Part Two

The Beginning of My Life; Getting There

Lunch came quicker than I thought it would. Classes were a little busier than yesterday, but it was still the first week and things weren't too heavy yet. Regardless, my first four periods were over and I found myself standing at my locker, my back pressed against it as I stared at the passing bodies, waiting for Blaine. It was horrible waiting, mostly because I kept picturing his face and about twenty scenarios of how this could go, all of which either ended with him sweeping me off my feet romantically or me breaking out in tears. A few times I saw him kicking the living shit out of me.

I looked to my left and watched as he made his way to me from the end of the hallway, my back straightening as I watched him. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows and his bag slung over his right shoulder. He high-fived some familiar faces in the hallway. He looked so cool.

"Nick, hey," he said, his words breathy as he walked up to me.

"Hi," I smiled.

"Are you still mad at me?" Was he actually asking me this?

I looked around to make sure the hallway was clear before I spoke. "Blaine, we're over."

He sighed and leaned against the locker next to mine. "Don't listen to the rumors, Nick."

"They're not rumors," I replied. "I don't think you got the hint…but you're birthday…do you not recall anything?"

He swallowed audibly and glanced down at the ground. "I said I was sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fix something like that."

"I thought that you'd understand…that I was drunk and…"

"Bee, what you did…ruined me, as a person. I'd be insane if I stayed with you after that."

"I know. I just…I love you, Nick…and what I did was stupid and fucked up and..." He stopped talking and shut his mouth, and I could have sworn I heard him sniffling. And then I realized: no matter what happened, no matter how pissed off I was at him, no matter how scared and heartbroken I was, I still loved Blaine. But it wasn't enough.

"We're over, Bee, okay?" I whispered as I pushed away from my locker. He nodded and walked away from me, heading to the loud roar of the cafeteria.

I was shocked when I didn't cry. I was shocked when the hatred I felt for him slowly disappeared. I was shocked that it was easy. Why was it so easy? There had to be something wrong. There had to be.

"What was that all about?" Jeff's voice asked. I turned my head and saw him standing there, an amused smile on his face with his hands stuck in his back pockets.

"I'm going to have to put a restraining order out on you, aren't I?"

"If you feel like it. But before you do, you should know that I suffer from Aspergers."

I felt my eyes widen. "Oh."

"Yeah, I was talking to the counselor and she said that I really need to steer clear of me and my mouth and talking to people. Well, not exactly in those words, but I'd like to think that that would be better for me." I had to tilt my right ear closer to him so I could catch the words he was saying. He was speaking so fast it was all almost turning into some type of mumble. "Basically, I'm sorry…and I'd really like it if you'd give me a second chance. I could really use a friend." His stared back at me with puppy-dog brown eyes and I sighed.

"Jeff, you seem like a sweet guy…but I'm not interested in having a friend right now."

"Why not?"

"My life is really…it's confusing right now and I just…" I just don't want to have another loose end to tie.

He sighed sadly and nodded. "I get it. Thanks, though, for forgiving me for being a total creeper."

"No problem. Um, I'm going to go eat now…" I said as I started to walk towards to cafeteria, not that that was where I planned to go. I didn't wait for him to respond as I treaded down the hall, the sound of my shoes flapping against the ground, echoing slightly in the quiet hall.

-:-

The first few weeks of school went by. Everyone now knew that Blaine and I were no longer an item, and I honestly had no idea how popular our relationship was. Some asked me personal questions about our sex life, about what he likes in someone. Others asked me if I was free on weekends, asked me what my favorite places were and told me how hot I was. I was flattered, but not interested. And Blaine…he was still single as far as I knew.

Jeff still pressed his friendship onto me, but not as crazily as he had the second day of school. I was less of a dick to him. I felt bad for the kid; he was new and socially awkward. He had no one and I often found him just walking the halls absentmindedly.

Like the last Friday of September. I was walking to the teacher's lounge to use the copy-machine for Mr. Abed, the Spanish teacher. He wanted me to make eight copies of a worksheet. I was twirling the hall pass around my neck; it was just simple laminated piece of paper hooked onto a shoelace—made into a necklace of some type. I was pulling it and tugging it, a soft whistle coming from my lips as I strutted down the hallway. It was empty and the only noise was that of my little song and the voices spilling out of the open classrooms.

Jeff suddenly appeared, bounding down a set of stairs. He looked over and saw me, paused on the last step, his hand went up and he gave me a gentle wave. I waved back, smiling and kept my eyes on him. Once I walked by him he jumped off the step and came up beside me.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"The teacher's lounge. I've gotta make copies. And you?"

He shrugged. "Just walking around."

"Don't you ever get in trouble for that?"

"No one really cares. Plus all they can do is tell me to get back to class and I pretend that I do but just go into a new hallway."

"I am jealous," I stated.

"You can do it anytime you'd like."

I sighed. "I wish. But classes are sort of important to me. I want to pass with flying colors."

"School's easy for me," he replied.

"Is that so?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Yup."

The teacher's lounge came into view and I waved him a goodbye as I entered it, looking behind me as I watched him go up another set of stairs. I went to the copy machine and did as I was asked to do before returning back to the classroom.

That was mostly what would happen between him and I; a run in, a short greeting, an awkward and swift goodbye. I had yet to give him a proper apology. I was feeling really guilty for the way I'd treated him when I first met him. I even wanted to make Thad tell him sorry, but that wasn't my place.

This weekend was dull. I found myself oddly hanging around my family, lingering over shoulders and sitting beside my father as he watched old westerns on the TV. In the kitchen I helped my brother make smoothies and we drank them together, laughing over stupid things as we called each other nasty nicknames. Our mother scolded us, of course, but once she was out of sight we continued our playful banter. It was two in the afternoon when I found myself in my bedroom cleaning, even sorting out clothes. I wasn't sure why I felt so antsy on this Sunday. I just wanted to stay active in a serene setting.

My father scrounged up some old boxes from the basement and let me have them so I could put my clothes in them. I marked one box with "donate" and the other as "trash". I blasted my stereo and sang as I held clothes up and examined them, trying to figure out what meaning they had once had in my life.

Mitchell walked past my open door, looking in casually as he made his way to his room. He turned around and stood at the entrance of my room, his hands holding his laptop.

"What are you doing?" he asked before he walked in and sat on my bed, nearly getting swallowed up by the pile of clothes.

"Going through my things. I'm such a pack-rat." I held up a small t-shirt of Spiderman. "Did you know that I've had this since fourth grade?"

"You wouldn't even be able to fit an arm into that thing. Why do you still have it?"

"I'm one of those people that don't like to let things go."

He nodded slowly. "You're one of those people that would end up on Hoarders."

I felt my eyes grow wide as I tossed the old shirt into the donate box. "Please kill me if I get that bad."

"Oh, I will. But if you hoard animals I will simply let you live with your poor life decision."

"You're so kind. I'm glad that I have a brother that cares so much."

"Shut up," he replied, opening his laptop and leaning against my pillows.

"Why aren't you out with your friends?" I asked him after a few minutes.

"Why aren't you out with yours?" he retorted, his tone snappy.

"Touché," I mumbled as I sorted through clothes.

A few minutes passed and I decided to take a break. I left Mitchell on my bed and went downstairs. I found myself in the kitchen, the fridge wide open as I bent over and searched for something delicious to eat. I spotted the silver of a yogurt lid and I reached for it. I pulled it out and kicked the door shut with my foot as I reached for a spoon from the utensil drawer. I was just taking a lick of the label when the doorbell rang.

I made my way out of the kitchen to it, expecting it to be a neighbor. Instead there stood Blaine, his hair dripping and his clothes spotted with dampness. I looked over his shoulder and noticed that it was raining. It bothered me that I hadn't noticed it.

"Hey," he said, a little breathless.

"What are you doing here?" I hated to be so blunt but it was called for.

"Can I come in? It's cold and I'm wet and ya know…its cold…"

He made an attempt to step inside but I only blocked the entry way and crossed my arms. He took a step back and frowned.

"I guess that I have a hard time making myself clear when I speak to you," I started, a sad sigh coming from me. I looked up at him and met his hazel eyes, watching them stare back at me with naivety. "I don't want anything to do with you. I don't want to see you. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want you to exist."

"You hate me, don't you?"

"Yes. No. I'm not sure how I feel about you. I just know that you're bad for me…and I don't want that in my life. Ever."

He nodded and looked down at my feet. They suddenly itched but I kept them still.

"You should—" I was about to suggest that he leave but my brother found us.

"Hey, man!" He walked over to us and stood by my side, his mouth wide with a smile. It pained me to see this. Blaine was Mitchell's hero, his idol…his best friend, in a sense.

"Mitch, hey, buddy," Blaine greeted back.

Mitchell suddenly looked at me, glaring. "Why are you making him stand outside? He's not an animal." He looked back to Blaine and motioned for him to enter.

Blaine glanced up at me to see if it was okay and I simple shook my head.

"I actually have to go. But I'll see you guys around." He waved and stepped off into the rain, which was falling down harder than it had before. I shut the door and headed back to the kitchen, Mitchell making a pissed off noise behind me.

"What was that about? Why were you such an ass to him?"

I picked up my yogurt and began to eat it. "He and I are no longer together."

"So!" he shouted. "It doesn't mean you can't be friends with him. Weren't you two super close before you started going out?"

"I know that you have some type of crush on him, but you're going to have to get over it. Blaine and I are through with everything and anything," I stated back, my tone harsh.

"I just…I don't get it, Nick. You two were in love and perfect and…and…and."

I looked up when it was obvious he had nothing else to say. I licked white yogurt off my spoon and noticed his red rimmed eyes.

"You're seriously not about to cry are you?" I asked him then, the guilt wasting no time to find me.

"No!" he screamed, turning around and fleeing from the kitchen.

"Mitchell!" I called after him, making my way up the stairs, my yogurt unfinished and on the counter.

I found him in my room, where he was softly crying into my pillows. I climbed over a mountain of clothes to get to him, my body finding its way next to his. I put my hand on his back and rubbed it, searching for something to say. Nothing came, so I just continued to comfort him wordlessly. His crying eventually stopped and his breathing slowed. I watched the rise and fall of his chest from the sides. He was asleep. Before I knew it my eyes were shutting and I was joining him.

He woke me up an hour later as he made his way out of my bed, laptop in hand. I watched him leave through tired eyes. I continued to lie in bed, sleep not crossing my mind as an option. I just stared at my window. The blinds were pulled up and I followed countless raindrops as they slid off the glass to the ground below. How could I have not noticed that it had been raining? It was bizarre. Rain was my favorite type of weather. I loved the darkness and coolness; I loved the smell and the sounds. I even knew it was going to rain from watching the weather early this morning, yet I forgot and never detected it. It shouldn't be bothering me the way it is. Nothing should be wrong about this. And yet, I could feel deep in my bones and in my core that something was awfully wrong with me.

The following day wasn't one I would have suspected. Eyes looked at me; my name ran off their lips. Occasionally I heard Blaine's name, and I could have sworn I even heard Jeff's. People were talking about me. No one knew me yet they talked as if they did. They had no idea what had happened between me and Blaine, yet the rumors were flying around and smacking me each time I thought they were gone. The morning remained as hushed whispers and stares, but by gym class people were starting to be more courageous.

I stood in the back of the gym, stretching my muscles out as we were told to do us. A senior named Ian made his way to me, his eyes harsh and catlike.

"Can I ask you a question?" He didn't sound realistically interested.

I nodded and tried to touch my toes with my fingers without bending too much.

"Is it true that Anderson dumped you because you gave him AIDS?"

I felt my eyes snap to him and a narrow. "No. Who told you that?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Nothing, it's just something I overheard. So you didn't get AIDS from a forty-year old pedophile?"

"Of course not," I said.

"I really don't want to come off as nosey or anything," he began, slowly getting down on his knees as he moved closer to me. I turned my head to face the front of me, noticing the countless eyes on us. I felt his breath hit my ear and the smell of Axe wafting from him.

"The entire school is convinced that you forcefully had sex with Anderson and gave him AIDS. And that new weird kid is your next guy. It's said that you two are blood-brothers, so to speak."

"What!" I hissed, standing up and nearly knocking him over. "Who said this?"

Ian got back up on his feet and wiped his hands on his black shorts. "Anderson, apparently. But you didn't hear it from me." I watched as he walked back to his part of the gym, his friends surrounding him.

I was fuming. How could I not be? Blaine had no right to make these rumors. None. He'd already done so much damage and now he was doing this? I did my best to track him down, but classes got in the way. As soon as I was in my final period I took the hall pass and left the Spanish classroom—it's not like I had anything better to do.

I stomped down the hallway, glancing into the open classrooms and searching for his familiar, stupid face. Teachers got hissy at me and I heard people call me things as soon as they recognized me. In spite of all that, I continued on my search.

Finally I found him out on the Lacrosse field. He was sitting on the bleachers with Thad and two of his other friends, all of them laughing carelessly. Obviously they must have decided to skip the final school period, which was stupid. Plus, why linger? They could just leave. I made my way over to them. Thad spotted me and slapped Blaine's knee with the back of his hand and pointed towards me. Blaine looked over his shoulder and rose to his feet.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I snarled, not waiting for me to get to the group.

"I have no idea who started the rumors," he quickly defended.

"That's bullshit. It was you! You got pissed because I ended things. If anyone has the right to be pissed it's me."

"I know—"

"I don't think you do. But maybe we should get someone else's opinion on this."

Blaine's eyes grew wide and he ran to me, his arms clutching my shoulders.

"Please don't. Please, I'm begging. You'll ruin everything."

"I'll ruin everything?" I felt the tears start then.

"Yes, you will. And I'm sorry but you really need to just play along." He clenched his jaw and looked over his shoulder. His friends were curious. Why wouldn't they be?

"This isn't fair, Blaine. I don't want this."

He looked back at me. "Me either, but this is what's gotta happen."

"Make it stop," I hissed.

"I'm trying…really, but the more I deny it the more…pity I get, like everyone thinks I'm in denial or something."

"And everyone thinks I'm some rapist giving everyone STD's!" I countered.

"Hey!" a voice suddenly boomed. Blaine's eyes flashed past me and his friends stood up and scattered. "What the hell? You should all be in class!" I recognized the voice of Coach Kirk.

I felt Blaine's arms go around me and I felt the need to push him away, but I didn't. "We'll talk later, I promise." He kissed my forehead and disappeared, leaving me alone in the bleachers with a red faced man who chose physical anything over emotional beings.

"Duval, get your ass back to class. Now."

I listened to his voice and walked past him to my Spanish class, resisting the urge to cry.

-:-

Blaine was true to his word. I sat in my car, his body next to me in the passenger seat. It was raining again.

"I didn't think things would get so out of control," he said in the shelter of the vehicle.

"What? The rumors you obviously started but deny?" I replied.

"No," he sighed. "Us. You and me. How did things go from fairy-tale to…"

"Horror story?" I finished.

"…yeah…"

He had said it so sadly and quietly that I had to look at him, trying to figure out where this was coming from and what it meant.

"Why did you do it?" I suddenly asked.

He looked up at me. "What?"

"You know what," I laughed without humor.

"I told you, things happened and I had to make some choices. I'm trying to fix things, but it's hard."

"Who started the rumors?"

"I'm not sure. Anyone, I guess. During the first week people were wondering if we'd broken up or not, and I couldn't really answer because I didn't know. And then Thad asked me about it and then you said we were."

"You honestly didn't start them?" My voice felt small and I shrunk into my seat. I was feeling guilty again.

"No. I even tried not to answer everyone's questions after you dumped my ass." He smiled and laugh, and I couldn't help but do the same.

"I guess I forgive you then."

"Does this mean we can be friends again?"

I laughed, this time with humor. "You're kidding me, right?" He dropped his head down to his chest and moved his knees closer together. He nearly resembled a child. "I told you I was done with you. This is the last time I ever want to have to speak to you again, let alone look at you."

"Do I really disgust you that much?" he asked monotone.

I nodded my head. He must have seen it because he sighed and reached for his back-pack by his feet.

"Well, I still love you. I always will. And my heart's broken."

I bit my lip and nodded once more. "Mine too."

He turned his head to look at me. He smiled softly. "I love you."

Blaine didn't wait for me to respond. He simply opened up my car door and stepped out into the rain, disappearing into his own car.

-:-

It was October 26th and it was my birthday. In school I got a few "happy birthdays", but that was mostly from teachers and the few students who didn't catch up with the rumor mill. Jeff was most excited for it, and I found myself smiling very widely at my locker after lunch. He'd decorated it with wrapping paper with color cut-out letters that announced what today was. When I opened my locker, confetti spilled out onto the ground and balloons attacked me. I was laughing nervously as my locker neighbor watched me with amusement when Jeff appeared.

"Happy birthday!" he exclaimed, pulling me into a one-sided hug.

"Thanks, Jeff. But how did you get into my locker?"

He shrugged. "I know people."

"You're insane," I muttered as I reached for some text books while trying to keep the balloons inside. I reached into the back of my locker, my hands feeling around. I felt something that was hard and a few inches up higher than most the books. It came with something stringy. I pulled back immediately and looked at Jeff. "You got me a present?"

His head lolled to the side. "Yeah, but I'm not giving it to you till your party."

"Then what's this?" I ask merrily, pulling out the present that was wrapped in sparkly pink paper. I held it up to him and he simply shrugged.

"I have no clue how that got in there," he said. He sounded genuine. "Does it say who it's from?"

I flipped it around in my hands. With a shake of my head I pulled the lid off, starring sadly at what was there for me.

"What is it?" Jeff asked, looking into it. He pulled back and grabbed it from me. "It's your birthday. You don't need this." I watched as he walked away to the nearest trash can.

"What was it?" a voice asked. I turned around to my locker neighbor (Sebastian, I think his name was) and sighed.

"A dildo with AIDS written all over it, along with a note that says 'property of Nicholas Duval', who is me."

"That's morbid," he responded. "Don't let them get the best of you, especially on your birthday."

I felt myself smile. "Easier said than done. But thanks."

I grabbed the books I needed and shut my locker, a few balloons escaping. I nearly slipped on the confetti but I kept my cool as I walked to my Chemistry class. As I took a familiar seat in the back, Jeff stepped into the classroom.

"Why is everyone so fucked up?" he asked. The teacher cleared her throat but Jeff didn't pay her no mind. "It's your birthday."

"It doesn't bother me," I said to him, setting my text book in front of me. The bell wouldn't be ringing for another ten minutes. Ten minutes of Jeff. I groaned audibly.

"It does. How could it not? That would bother me." He walked over to me and sat atop the table, his body pushing the text book near the edge. "You need to stick up for yourself, Nick."

"There's no point. It's high school. People will get bored."

"You said that last month. It's only gotten worse."

I shook my head. "I really don't care."

"Well, I do," he reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. "You're my friend and I'm not going to sit around and watch you get bullied."

"I really appreciate that, Jeff. But let it go. Trust me, in a few months people will have forgotten about me." My stomach ached at how true the words were.

"I won't. I'm sorry, but Sterling's don't back down. Nor do they take it lying down." He slid of the table and gave me a large smile with a nod. "I'll see you later, birthday boy."

With that he walked out of the classroom, leaving me alone to get questioning stares from Ms. Reynolds.

I figured my day couldn't get much worse, and in a way…it didn't.

In choir practice we all found ourselves working hard on some choreography when our class was interrupted by a freshman named Phillip.

"May I help you?" Wes, one of the council members, asked.

"Uh," he pulled out a bouquet of roses from behind his back. "Special delivery for Nicholas Duval."

Everyone snapped their eyes to me and I swallowed. I didn't wait for him to come to me. I sped-walked over to where he was and he held out the roses for me.

"Blaine Anderson wishes you a happy birthday."

"These are from Blaine?" I questioned, taking the bouquet from him. I didn't remember bringing them up to my nose to sniff, but I did.

"Yes. He asked me to bring them to you. He said you would understand."

I didn't, but I pretended that I did with a nod.

"Uh. Bye." He walked out of the choir room and I turned back to face the Warblers, all of them murmuring to each other as I they watched me cautiously. I felt like laughing at their faces.

Ha, I wanted to say. You all think that I'm so evil human being who ruined Blaine's life. These roses say differently, don't they?

Saturday there was a party. It was supposed to be small. Just me and Jeff and Mitchell and perhaps my parents.

No, it was much bigger.

Boys who called me nasty names showed up and acted like we'd always been friends. Man-sluts who tried to get in my pants…well, they tried to get in my pants. Blaine even showed up, though he stayed clear away from me. My parents had somehow vanished, leaving just Mitchell and my grandfather to keep some control. And booze. Lots of it. But I guess it would be best if I started from the morning and up.

In stories they have climaxes. This would be mine.

This is the beginning of my end.

"I've been secretly falling apart." I say it to my grandfather. He's far too out of his mind to realize I'm there or to comprehend what I'm saying, but it's nice to get it off my chest. "I don't know what to do about it. But I feel it. I'm sad, Grandpa." He blinks just once but continues to stare at the empty plate in front of him. "It's a weird sad, though. It's a type of sad that sort of just consumes you. I'm not crying sad or heartbroken sad. I'm just…sad…always." I close my mouth and lean against my chair.

No one's quite sure what my grandfather's deal is. The doctors say PTSD, which seems logical. Mentally he's there, but he's just shut us all out. He joins us for meals and the rare family occasion, even road trips, but beyond those he stays down in the basement and keeps to himself. He no longer talks to any of us—he no longer reacts to us. We wonder if he's gone deaf, but no one knows, not even the doctors. His hair is white and his blue eyes seem almost gray. He's old; maybe around eighty years old. I miss him. He has no choice but to live with us, mostly because years ago he said he'd rather be dead then live in a home—which I don't blame him.

I heard my mother's voice and I looked away from him. My mother came to the table with a stack of pancakes. My brother and father rushed in from outside, their shirts stained with sweat from an early game of basketball.

"I love birthday breakfasts," my brother said as he grabbed a piece of sausage and shoved it into his mouth.

"Yo también," my father said in Spanish, agreeing with Mitchell.

We all stacked our plates with delicious objects of our morning desires. Mitchell and my dad goofed off, which was nice to see. Usually a fourteen year old didn't click so well with his father. I sort of wished me and my mother were closer, but I was kind of glad she didn't give a shit about my life. It made keeping secrets easier.

"So what are your birthday plans?" she asked me as she ungratefully took a bite of bacon.

I shrugged. "Staying in, I guess."

"That's so lame!" Mitchell butted in. "You're seventeen now. You need to do something fun!"

"I'm fine with being lame," I replied.

My dad smiled at me. "You should throw a party."

I stared at my dad in shock, and when I saw my mom nod her head in agreement, my mouth dropped.

"That's okay, guys, really. Why don't we all just go out to dinner instead?"

My mom shook her head. "I can't, sweetie. I have to work graveyard tonight, and your father is going out with the boys."

My dad was into bowling, almost at the point where he was starting to look ridiculous with the handle-bar mustache. His team was called "Wii Bowl", which is the declaration that they first started off playing bowling on the Wii and graduated to actual bowling. I guess things that are usually marked as a waste of time can turn into actual lifestyles.

"We can invite some people over, Nick," Mitchell said, brown eyes wide with excitement. "Just a few, though." He added the last bit to calm my mother, who looked like she was second guessing her decision to allow a get together.

"It sounds good to me," my dad added.

My mom smiled at me and nodded. "A party is fine. Just small. And no booze."

We wrapped up breakfast, all of us eating more than we should have. Mitchell and I stood in the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. He talked about who we could invite and what type of music we could play and I did my best to zone him out, at least until a name slipped out of his lips.

"Doesn't Blaine's older brother DJ?"

"No," I abruptly said.

Mitchell started the dishwasher and pressed his lips together before he spoke. "I'm pretty sure he does. Isn't his name like, Cooper or something?"

"We're not inviting Blaine," I clarified.

"We have to invite him."

I stared at him. "No, we don't. It's my party. No Blaine."

"I don't see why we shouldn't invite him."

"You're nearly just as thick headed as he is," I stated. "I'm going to say this once. Me plus Blaine equals not in this lifetime. Our relationship is over. Our friendship is over. I don't even want to look at him. All right?"

Mitchell frowned. "What did he do that was so awful, anyway? All the rumors say this is all on you."

"And since when did you start listening to rumors?" I asked him, my tone getting ruder by the second.

He muttered something and I sighed. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Just," he started, searching for words as he stared aimlessly at his laptop screen. "Who the hell are we inviting to this? Who are your friends and who aren't? I mean, I know we're on socially different levels in school and I'm not sure who you're buddies with."

I rolled my eyes at my brother. He was a freshman, and he was right; we were on different levels of the social pyramid. He was near the top, and with his budding I-play-every-sport-like-I'm-a-pro attitude, he'd be at the top before senior year. I resigned near the bottom, almost at the point where I wasn't even part of anything. Though, with the Blaine situation, I had risen to the top, but not because I was great but because I was despised. They put me up high to bring me down lower.

"I don't want a party," I said to him as he scrolled through social network sites.

"Tough titty," he retorted.

"I'm serious!"

He turned around in his chair and looked at me, eyeing the laptop in front of me.

"I get it. You're pulling away from people. And as your brother, I refuse to watch you turn into a pariah. So people are talking shit about you. You know what you do?" He paused to see if I would answer. When I didn't, he continued, "You get over it and you give them something else to talk about."

"Like what?"

"That's not up to me. It's your life; either you can let them control it or you can move the fuck on."

I groaned and let my head fall back against the headboard of my bed. "They're not controlling my life, Mitch! I seriously don't care what they say or do. I just want to be left in peace."

"Sorry, bro, but that's not how things work. Now if you may give me permission, I'll take care of this party. All you have to do is show up, look hot and make something of yourself."

"I hate you."

He smiled at me and turned back to his laptop. "Prepare yourself, brother dear. Tonight is going to be one hell of a night."