Michael didn't like coming home from school. He didn't like turning his key in the lock, holding his breath as he pushed forward the door, wondering if only silence would greet him.
The room was empty, like most days. Michael sighed as his bag slid to the floor. He shouldn't be disappointed, he told himself, he didn't have reason to expect much anymore.
Lincoln had changed over the past year. He had decided that Michael was not a kid anymore, that he no longer needed to be coddled. Michael no longer needed constant supervision; he could be alone.
Michael told himself he didn't mind being treated like a young man. He felt he'd out grown being a kid anyway. But he missed Lincoln's attentiveness, his affection. Young men acted stand-offish toward one another. Young men didn't tell each other stories, didn't hold each other, in quiet moments before sleep. No, young men slept with their back to you, and were careful not to let a touch linger. It was as if they didn't even share a room anymore. Young men liked their privacy.
Michael knelt beside his bag and pulled a heavy sheet of paper from it. First Place in the Science Fair, it read. Michael had built a roller coaster out of old wood and recycled materials. The track hadn't been very long, but it worked. Lincoln had stared at him curiously when he'd seen him working on it. He'd asked what all that garbage had to do with school anyway. He wasn't mocking Michael though, just making it clear that he shouldn't waste his time explaining it; school was Michael's thing, not Linc's.
The door opened abruptly, and Michael staggered to his feet.
"Michael." Lincoln seemed surprised, glancing at his watch and then back at his brother.
"Hey," the younger replied, straightening himself.
Michael, he'd called him. Not Mikey. Occasionally he was Mike, especially around others. No, he hadn't been Mikey in quite some time. It had been so long, he'd started to think of himself as such. Michael.
"How's it goin'?" Linc said automatically as he brushed past into the room. Michael turned to face him, hiding the certificate in his hand.
"Oh, Ok." Michael's eyes bore into him, willing Linc to actually talk to him.
"Anything happen today?" Linc was looking at him, but his tone suggested that his question could have been for anyone.
Michael tightened his fist, balling the paper into nothingness. "No," he muttered, hoping to keep the sadness from his voice, "nothing happened today."
Lincoln finally looked away. "Well, Veronica's waiting." He paused. "See you later tonight."
And he crossed the room, leaving Michael alone.