Never Doubt Me: Judge Me Not #2(16)

But that was before everything changed.

The water stopped a while ago, but I make no move to stand. I don’t really care anymore if Will finds me out here in the hall, seated next to his open bag on the floor. I just can’t bring myself to put the sketch back where I found it. Not yet.

The bathroom door swings open and thick, hot steam wafts out. I don’t look up, but my brother’s bare feet step into my line of sight. He clears his throat, and that’s when I tilt back my head.

Will’s upper body is damp and bare, but his lower half is covered in basketball shorts that look familiar. “Those mine?” I ask with a quick jerk of my head indicating the shorts.

“Yeah, they were clean. Is that okay?”

I shrug.

Will glances down at the sketch in my hand, but his eyes dart away when he notices me watching him.

He sighs, loudly. I fully expect him to start yelling and calling me every name in the book. I deserve as much for so blatantly invading his privacy.

But Will does none of these things. Instead, he sits down next to me and leans his head back against the wall.

“So you were going through my shit, huh?” He motions lazily to his open bag.

He doesn’t sound angry, just resigned.

I clear my throat. “Yeah, I was going through your stuff. Sorry, bro.”

“I don’t have any drugs, if that’s what you were looking for.”

“I know, Will. And yeah, drugs were exactly what I was looking for.”

He doesn’t say anything in return; he just accepts. My brother closes his eyes and rakes his hand through his wet hair. Yeah, I have the same quirk. I also notice Will’s hair wet like this is the exact same shade as mine, the strands more of a light brown color instead of his usual dark-blond shade.

Will may resemble Mom the most, but like me, he’s got a lot of Dad in him, too. It’s becoming more obvious now that he’s maturing.

With his eyes still closed, Will mutters, “I’m sorry, Chase.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For lying to you about the money I borrowed.”

Exhaling loudly, I say, “Yeah, that wasn’t too cool, bro.”

“I know.” Will opens his eyes and shoots me a sidelong glance. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“You still smoking?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Not since Mom found my stash.”

I nudge his shoulder with mine. “Hey, you know why I worry about that shit, yeah?”

“I know, I know,” Will replies. “You and drugs. Mom and gambling.”

I sigh. He sighs. Sometimes there’s nothing left to say.

But then Will gestures to the drawing still in my hand. “I see you found the sketch,” he says softly.

After a beat, I ask, “Why’d you tell me it was gone?”

Will turns away and doesn’t respond.

I can’t see his face, but I see him swallowing hard. “Will?”

When he turns back to me, his eyes are brimming with tears. “Fuck, Chase, I don’t know.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “What’s it matter, anyway? It’s just a stupid sketch, right?”

It’s not, but he sounds so distraught that I agree. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

I start refolding the sketch, with every intention of putting it away, but Will smacks my hand. “Don’t,” he croaks. “Just…let it go.”

Talk about a loaded statement.

Despite Will’s protests, I finish folding the paper. He hits my hand again—hard. So hard that the sharp report slices though the silence in the hall.

I release the sketch and let it drop into the bag. “Happy?” I snap.

Will smacks my hand again, harder still. But I let him. He chokes back a sob. I know he’s upset; this shit isn’t about some old sketch.

“Hit me if it makes you feel better,” I tell him.

I mean it. This one time, I’ll let my little brother raise his hand to me. He can beat the f*ck out of me if it makes him feel better. Just this once, I won’t fight back.

But instead of hitting me again, Will grabs up my hand and clutches at it desperately. That shit just about guts me.

“Shit, bro,” Will sobs, chokes on his words. “This is so f*cking dumb. I’m such a f*cking *.” My brother’s tears don’t stop, despite him grinding his fist into his eyes. “Chase…”

“Fuck, Will.”

I gather my brother in my arms. He resists at first, but I work to soothe him.

When he keeps trying to push me away, though, I say sternly, “Stop fighting me, goddammit. Just let go, okay? Let it out, Will. You’re safe with me.”

With a strangled sob, my brother gives in. He wraps his arms around me and lets his heart pour.

“I feel so alone all the time, Chase. I pretend like I’m okay, but I’m not. Most of the time, I’m just winging it. Really, I honestly don’t know what I’m doing half the f*cking time.”

“Will.” His words break my heart.

He chokes back another sob that reverberates in my own chest. “I mean, Mom… She tries.” Will loosens his hold but still clings to me. “I know her intentions are there, but she’s just… I don’t know. She’s just Mom, you know?”