You're 8 when you suddenly get a brother, not that there hadn't been 9 months to prepare, but it still felt sudden to you. It's not too bad, the crying at night's not much fun, but your dad bought you that action man you'd wanted forever, and when you hold him, your little brother, you think he's kinda cool.
You're
nearly 11 when he stops being cool and starts being annoying. 3
years old and doing math in his head that you can't do on paper, so
he's smart, it's annoying.
It's
2 days later when you realize it's math that your dad takes a long
time to do on paper and you finally get what the big deal is. So
maybe, you think, maybe Charlie does need the tutor, but you still
think it's unfair that the interviews mean dad can't take you go-
karting like he'd promised.
You're
14 and you just started high school. It's good, you're playing
baseball, classes are going okay and the girls seem to like you.
You
don't see much of Charlie now, he's at home when you are sure,
but he spends most of his time working in his room, playing with his
numbers, if he's not skulking away when you catch sight of him,
trying to pretend he hasn't been watching your every move.
But
this weekend had been nice, you'd let him tag along on a bike ride
with your friends, and he hadn't horribly embarrassed you, had even
managed to keep up, mostly. And hey, Shelly thought you were 'sweet'
hanging with your little brother, so maybe he is good for something.
You're
16, you've just entered your junior year and so has your brother.
Your little brother, at your school.
He's
everywhere you turn now, in the corridors, in 3 of your classes, in
the gym, which is the only place you know you can do better than him.
Shelly
doesn't think it's sweet anymore, but that doesn't matter, it's
not like your wanted her to go to the movies with you really. And
the guys still think you're cool, you're still playing baseball
and that's good even if it does mean you have to put up with
Charlie spouting weird equations at you. Some crap he's done to
the statistics that is supposed to help your game, make you like him
more, like that's ever going to happen.
And
the tense twisting feeling in your gut every time you stand by and do
nothing as some kid pushed him over, or one of your friends calls him
names, or as blood drips from the cut on his, eyebrow, chin, arm,
knee, from the fist he didn't dodge quite quick enough, well it
doesn't mean anything really.
You're
18 and getting ready for your senior prom, your bother sat on your
bed watching excitedly, math for once seemingly forgotten. It's
when you finally get your bow tie on right and he announces how
'cool' you look that you realize just how much Charlie is missing
out on.
He's
not coming to prom obviously, he's 10 years old, but unlike the
younger brothers of your classmates he's not sat there imaging how
he's going to look just this cool when its his turn, this is his
prom and he's not going.
You
reach out and ruffle his hair, making him laugh and bat at your hands
ineffectually with his own. And you find yourself, for maybe the
first time since he joined your school, genuinely remorseful for all
the times you'd wished he was normal, stupid, dead.
You're
still 18 but today you graduated. Today you got that piece of paper
that means you can get out of here. Go off to college where nobody
knows you as that math genius's brother, where Charlie won't be
following you around, because your university is on the east coast
and Charlie, he's going to CalSci, just round the corner from home.Today
was a good day though. Charlie looked really cute in his cap and
gown, like a little kid for the first time in weeks, for the first
time since prom. If he wasn't so excited about CalSci you'd
think he was scared. No, you now he is scared, he's been far to
quiet recently, far to into his math and the panic attacks he gets
sometimes have been happening a lot. Not today though, today he was
smiling, clutching tight to your hand as you went up to get your
diplomas together, as your parents took photograph after photograph
of the two of you.
You're
proud of him; you realized that in the last month or so. Really
proud, he'll turn 11 in 3 weeks and he's already graduated high
school, is on his way to college and he still thinks you're the
best thing since sliced bread, still doesn't understand the fuss
people make over him sometimes.
You
watched today as the press took his picture and asked him questions,
watched as you felt that familiar feel of jealousy grow for just a
second before you noticed that he didn't seem to like the attention
either, noticed that he still hadn't let go of your hand, noticed
the excitement in his eyes being replace by a growing spark of panic.
You
stepped in then, said a few words and led Charlie away, watched the
panic fade into gratitude, gratitude for such a small act, something
you should have been doing for years and that feeling in your stomach
was back, but this time, this time you could admit what it was.
