She figured it must have started with a phone call. One simple ring of her apartment phone startled her away from her television and that one ringing noise must have started this nightmare.
"What?"
She hadn't been happy. It had been after ten and most people knew better than to call her at anytime after eight. Perhaps if she had answered the phone with a simple, 'hello,' like normal people…perhaps then she wouldn't be here. But she didn't, and so she was here.
"Do you have a happy setting?"
"Not when talking to you. What do you want? Do you even know what time it is?"
She remembered he had scoffed at her. She had been angry at him and he didn't even care. Maybe if she had been more patient with him. Even as a child she remembered that she had never much cared to have him around her.
"I'm in town. I wondered if I could stop by…or maybe take you to go see a movie. I don't know. I haven't seen you in a while."
"It's ten-thirty. I have college early in the morning."
That had been a lie, and they had both known it. There had been a tone in her voice, though, and he hadn't argued. Perhaps if he had…maybe if he had insisted on acting like they were still on speaking terms. Maybe if she had just let it go. No one was perfect, and he had been no different. Possibly if she had given him the benefit of the doubt…
"Alright, Megan. Sorry to have bothered you."
She closed her eyes against the response she had given him, but it didn't take away the fact the she had said it at all.
"You should be."
If she hadn't hung up on him, if she had let him come over to her apartment to hang out for even just a few moments, perhaps then she wouldn't be crying. She didn't like crying and she wished that he hadn't have called that night. She wished she hadn't been so hateful to him. She wished she hadn't said half of everything she had.
She wished she had really hated him as much as she always led on. She wanted to not care about this, even though she knew that there could never possibly be a way that would happen. She really had loved him too much, and that's why she had never shown him her caring side.
How could she?
He was the only continuous male figure in her life, since the day she had been born, even if she could never depend on him. He followed her all the way to Los Angeles, but he put her on the wrong flight
that got her there. He would protect her from boys, not from disappointment. The only time he had ever made her smile was when he suffered from her pranks. He only cared about himself, and she only cared about making him miserable. They were both selfish to a fault and that was why they had never gotten along. Unless their goals were common ground, he wanted to stay on her good side and she wanted to teach him that there was no such thing.
She ran her hand over his pale skin, wondering why she cared so much, because she shouldn't. She shouldn't. He wasn't that important. He never really had been.
He had left practically the second he graduated to follow his music career, and he had barely hugged her goodbye. He never made it to her graduation—his tour dates had conflicted horribly, and he couldn't afford going against him manager again—but he had tried to make up for it by paying for a plane ticket for her summer vacation. He was her older brother, close to superstar, and too busy to eat dinner, and definitely too busy to call every once in a while. He wasn't her best friend. He was Drake, which was better than her father, but certainly not perfect.
She had always felt that he was useless…he had no point in her life, and for the last five years there were days she had fooled herself into believing he wasn't part in her life.
Yet somehow, one phone call had changed that. That stupid ringing phone that she just couldn't ignore because she just couldn't pass up the chance of yelling at anyone.
"What do you want now, Drake?! I told you I have…"
"Miss Parker? This is Anita Mason from the St. John's Hospital. I'm sorry to tell you, but your brother has been in an accident."
He had to have been the most useless boob in the history of boobdom. She swore daily to that testament.
For the life of her though, she couldn't figure out why she was crying.
Perhaps if he woke up, she would show him what a simple ringing phone could do to a person.
Perhaps…
A/N: …
That covers it.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Drake and Josh. I barely own the food I eat.
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InnocentGuilt