Just a quick little one-shot, nothing special, inspired by a late night episode. Dedicated to Emily P. you know who you are.
Nathan was only in two of my classes this year, which sucked, because that was two more than any other year. So far the school system had been relatively nice, allowing at least somewhat of a distance between the 'brothers'. But this year, I was stuck in both Physics and Calculus, staring at the back of my 'little brother's' head.
The worst was when we had a substitute and they read roll call. You know.
"Rainsford?"
"Here."
"Sanders?"
"Here."
"Scott."
"Here."
"...Scott?"
"Yea, here."
And you know, Scott was a relatively common name, so it's not like the substitute picked up on the fact that we were half brothers in the same grade, but it was more that the entire class was once again reminded. And not only reminded that the small, shy kid was related to super jock, but that super jock's dad had picked him over the dork. And that was always fun to deal with.
-o-
Always, in the back of my mind I pictured my graduation day. My mom, of course, would be thrilled beyond belief, and there'd be the sappy picture taking and crying. But I know that after they say 'Lucas Scott." there will immediately follow a "Nathan Scott." and then the cheers will be louder, and my mom will once again be reminded that our family is only and will always be second best.
-o-
We used to have a lockers right next to each other. The school, um, did them alphabetically, so obviously 'Scott' would be right next to 'Scott'.
I remember the weekend before school started, Freshman year, I had gone that Saturday to set up my locker. Nothing frilly or anything, just clean it up a bit, some basketball stickers, and a shelf.
Yea, but, it was then that I saw Nathan and his friends drawing on my locker, evidently they had found out that the locker belonged to me cause' once they were gone I walked up to find a nice locker sporting the words. Accident Child. Second Best. Unloved Bastard Child. My first taste of how much being a Scott in high school truly would suck.
-o-
I did always have Keith, the one thing Nathan didn't have. Because Nathan might've had the bigger house, and cooler friends, and hotter girlfriends. But I had a sweatshirt from Keith's Motor-Works. But...that still couldn't compete with having a dad.
When I was, younger I used to pretend that I just didn't have a dad. That he had died in s super secret FBI mission while my mom was pregnant and then they had to make up Dan as an alias to protect me and my mom from the thing that killed my real dad.
But, when me and Nathan started meeting up more, through pee-wee and stuff, I couldn't really pretend anymore. Because..event though I didn't try, I could always see the similarities between us. Our...ears, kind of stuck out like Dan's. And our eye's were kind of shaped the same way. And, well, neither of us were super tall, but we were both always on the back row of team photos.
And when I was about 7 I finally gave up my cool FBI dad dream, because the truth was, my dad was still alive. And he wished I wasn't.
-o-
The thing, I think, that hurt the most growing up was around Christmas time. Cause' I could always here Nathan talking about all the cool things he got or did.
You know, one year it was all about "My dad got me an autographed Michael Jordan basketball."
That year I got an old Michael Jackson CD.
Or maybe "My dad took my skiing this winter, it was so cool, he even taught me to jump!"
And I worked during the break so I could buy my mom a crappy plant for Christmas.
Until I was about 5 I was pretty sure Dan would send me a present, I mean he gave one son something, why wouldn't he give the other son?
But every Christmas I got nothing and the luckier Scott son got everything. .Ho,
-o-
Despite contrary belief, I didn't start playing basketball just to compete with Nathan. That was an added bonus, but not the reason I started. I started because, those few seconds your in the air after a jump shot almost make up for that empty spot in my life.
The missing brother and dad, who I can always see but never have.
In those 2 seconds and 34 milliseconds I can hear a brother screaming encouragement and a dad yelling from a stands, and I feel a kind of fulfillment I've never experienced anywhere else.
But as soon as my worn sneakers hit the concrete floor, and the chain net clangs instead of swooshes, and the only cheers come from a few of my friends since Elementary, reality sets in. And I'm just the seconds best child, again.
-o-
But, this year, things would be different. Because I was on the basketball team, and I wasn't just the small, shy kid who sat behind Nathan Scott in school.
This year my brother would recognize my existence and his competition. This year my dad will acknowledge that I am alive, to everyone's eyes, including his own.
This year I will be Lucas Eugene Scott, the oldest Scott Son and equal child to Dan. Even if it kills me.
Thanks y'all. I own nothing.-iVans
