Julian 

"Julian!” Mom calls from the kitchen. “Can you help your sister carry the remainder of the boxes upstairs, please.”

I’m currently sprawled out on the couch, my head over the edge with my eyes shut. I had been dealing with the itch to draw all day and it caused an exhaustion that made it hard to the do tasks asked of me today.

I had only been gone for five minutes, but that was enough for her to be alerted to my absence. After all, she was always hyperaware when it came to me. I open my eyes at the sound of her voice.

“Sure!” I call back, hoping she hears me. It is at that moment Raina emerges from the garage. She juggles two boxes while continuously having to adjust herself. Raina had the skill of appearing whenever she was needed. If she wasn’t already aspiring to be a teacher, I would recommend the magician career.

Her head poked out from behind the boxes she held. Dominant brown eyes and brunette hair captured her features. “Well come on, then,” she said. “These boxes can’t carry themselves.”

I shake my head in amusement before pushing myself off the couch and coming to help her. I take the box from the top and see her relax with some of the weight gone. We leave the loungeroom and head past the kitchen where mom can be seen sorting the pots into the pantry.

She stops what she is doing- mid-task-  her gaze trailing after me as we pass and head to the second floor. Only when I am out of her sight does she go back to what she was doing. The second floor of the house consisted of bedrooms and two bathrooms. Raina and my room were opposite the stairs, while hers was further down the hall. Although she would never admit it out loud, being close to my bedroom was what influenced deciding on this house.

“Just place it on my bed,” she instructs, doing the same. I drop the box on her bed and catch a glimpse of what’s inside. I jab a thumb at it.

“These are all books, aren’t they?” I tease.

“No,” she says, clearly not believing her own lie.  

I do my famous brother move. I drill her with my gaze and don’t relent until she gives in. First comes the shuffling of her feet against the carpet. Then the avoiding of her eyes. And finally… she caves.

“Okay,” she blurts, a sheepish smile on her lips. “Maybe they are. But, more importantly, has anyone told you that  your stare is too intense. What would have lasted days of a lie with my friends only lasted two minutes with you.”

“Or,” I drawl, poking a finger to her forehead, “maybe you're just not a good liar.”

“Or,” she counters, “maybe you're just too observant.” She pokes my forehead with her finger this time. Before I can reply, Mom calls me again.

“Julian! When you’re finished up there, I need you back down here.”

She was trying to keep me busy, clearly picking up on my off day. While I understood the sentiment, a deeper part of me- an irritated part of me- just wanted to seclude myself in my room for the rest of the day.

“Just be patient with her.” Something must have shown on my face for her to say that. “You know why she’s doing this.” She gives me a comforting smile. I return a tight smile. Half of what I could give yesterday. Still, it's an improvement.

“I know,” I say softly. “And I’m forever grateful.”

 And I really mean it. 

******

Today is one of the harder nights to fall asleep. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly if it was the new room or because I knew what nightmares awaited me when I slept. And I didn’t care to think deeply on it. 

A quick glimpse at my clock told me it was 10:30pm. I wonder if Raina is asleep. Again. On cue. Raine stands outside my door, and I can see her through the gap I left ajar for her. She snuggles a pillow close to her chest wearing snoopy pyjamas. In silent permission, I raise my blanket up indicating she can slip in.

The door creaks as she enters the room and slips under the covers. When she makes herself comfortable, I let the blanket fall and cover her. ‘I knew you’d have trouble sleeping again,” she whispers. We both stare up at the ceiling;  the color of a rainy sky.

“Yeah. Today… especially.”

There's a silence between us before her head shifts in my direction. I don't need to see her face in the dark to know she's intensely studying mine, the secret question on the tip of her lips. Instead, she settles for, "Well, I'm here now, brother. You can sleep comfortably. I'll watch over you." Her words have become a mantra since the beginning she visited my room in the middle of the night a month ago. And, just like every time, they wrapped me up in comfort and ease. I really believed now that I'd be able to sleep with her next to me. 

We shuffle once more until her back is against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, my eyes suddenly feeling heavy. Before I know it, we’re fast asleep. 

****

I flick my eyes open at the creak of my bedroom door. My mother emerges and creeps towards my dresser table. The room is dark, and so she doesn't notice that I am staring at her from my bed.

Finding the draw-where she knows I store my pills- she grabs the container, unscrews the cap, and checks inside. A heavy breath escapes her lips as her chest rises and falls. I notice her head swing in my direction just in time to quickly shut my eyes. The floor creaks signaling her movement. I feel her small hand brush my fringe from my face before she whispers, "Te Amo, my boy."

I wait till she rises from kneeling beside my bed. I wait until she returns my pills. I wait. Until the door shuts behind her and my body begins to quiver as I let out muffled sobs as I cover my mouth with my hand. 

****

We pull into the parking lot. I peak out the window and see the school ahead. I’d only seen photos and heard things from my mom. She had already decided on the school before my discharge after being stuck in the hospital for two weeks.  The buildings were made up of brick and the parking space was medium size. I looked around to see if there were any signs of security personal near the entrance, but it was void.

The whole place screamed ‘middle-class’ compared to Daymont. I knew it would take a while to adjust, but I was also brightening up to the idea that this was the perfect place to stay low until I graduate. I had a feeling the students here did not put reputation at the top of the pedestal.

“-I’ll only be coming with you to greet the principle. Tomorrow it’s all up to you.” Mom has rattled on this whole car trip about today. The car was heavy with nervous energy. “This will be a great place to make some friends and finish the rest of your studies,” she said as we got out of the car. I think it was to convince herself more than me.  

I nod absentmindedly still distracted with observing my surroundings as we made into the building and headed to the administration office. This school was three times smaller than Daymont. At Daymont the schools were so spread out it would take time to reach them. Whereas, all the classrooms were squished close together within the hallways. I could already imagine the war that would ensue to reach my locker. The school was plain. Walls either coated in dark green or mud brown.

I must have wandered further on my own as mom was no longer by my side. I looked behind me to see her planted to her spot with crossed arms, about a foot behind me. It seemed she had waited for me to notice before she wanted to move. She approaches me and grabs hold of my shoulders, adjusting me so I’m face to face with her. Eye to eye. I did not get my father’s genes when it came to the height department.

Mom is someone that speaks with her eyes and she needs that eye contact when she has something series to say. “It's how my grandmother raised me and it’s how I’ll raise you,’” she would always tell us.

She places a hand on my cheek. Her voice takes on a softness as she says, “you let me know if this is too much for you. I want this to work for the both of us.” A cloud of guilt settles in my chest. Mom was more nervous than I thought, and I should have been taking this more seriously for her. She practically left everything behind for me.

I nod, my throat dry. “I-I’m sorry,” I get out. “Me too.” I want this to work for the both of us.

Her expression lightens and I can finally relax.

“Hi principle, Bowens.” A teacher speaks into his phone as he passes us. “No. Quinton Kingsley still hasn’t arrived.” He rubs his hand over his face. “Yes, I did make sure to tell him today. And, very thoroughly at that,” he makes sure to add.

We continue our way to the administration office. We approach the receptionist, and Mom alerts her to our expected meeting after she gets off the phone. We are instructed to wait in the lobby area. Her voice blends into the numerous conversations as teachers pass through the area. Most of them shift curious glances my way.

My skin crawls at every new set of eyes on me and slowly it feels as if a hot rock is being pressed into my backside. I’m shifting in my seat and my mind constantly flashes the image of my headphones and drawing pad laid on the table back in my room.

I lean into mom who sits beside me. “I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back later.”

“We’re nearly inside- “she catches my expression and notices the issue instantly. “Go.” She gently pats my leg. “Take your time. I can always talk to him myself.”

I nod and waste no time asking directions for the toilet before I'm speed walking out of there. Only when I'm fully out of the room and away from prying eyes do I feel the tension exit my body. The breath I'd been holding finally slips out of my lips.