Note; I've been gone for a while. Sorry! But don't worry, I haven't given up on this story. I'm definitely planning on finishing this story as well as a few others on my ff page. I've been busy with uni and I've had a few roadblocks in writing this story, but I spent a little while thinking and I've pretty much set up a very basic basis of what the next few chapters are going to be like, and all that's left is to write them and see how they pan out. And things are going to get crazy. Intense drama's just about to start, and I hope you stay until the bitter (or sweet) end!
Chapter VI: The Bitter
The only thing shittier than being stuck in the back of a car for an entire hour is being stuck in the back of a car for an entire hour while a tired older brother uses whatever's in reach as a pillow.
Adam grumbled to himself as he tried to shake his sleeping brother off of himself, but the older boy wouldn't budge. Smacking his brother's head didn't do anything but solicit him a warning glare from his mother and pushing him towards the window was impossible. He wondered if Drew's brain was made of lead, because whatever made it heavy was definitely going to ruin all feeling in his right arm. Groaning, he tapped his brother's head with his forefinger.
"Seriously, Drew. Get off me. Your face is like a thousand pounds."
His brother snorted in response, not budging from his uncomfortable position on Adam's shoulder. Irritated, Adam resigned to his fate and leaned his head against the seat, praying that the ride was almost over.
It was a long, three hour drive every time they went to visit Grandpa Torres but Adam couldn't help but be excited every time. His grandfather was surprisingly very accepting of his gender identity, telling his mother that he always knew she was bound to have two sons. He said he had a sixth sense for that kind of thing, and judging by the warm smile he always wore, Adam was sure that he meant every word.
Mr. Torres pulled over on the curb, parking as close as he could to the sidewalk, before whistling loudly to wake up the still drowsy Drew.
"Are we finally here?" Drew asked sleepily.
"We're here." Mr. Torres nodded, stepping out of the car.
The family made their way into the nicely furnished house. Grandpa Torres lived separate from Grandma Torres, in an older house in the farther part of the forest surrounded areas. He was nuts, Mrs. Torres always insisted, but Adam and Drew admired the way he fended for himself, immersing himself in hunting and building in his little neck of the woods.
"Hey, Dad." Mrs. Torres said, grabbing Grandpa Torres in a hug as they approached the smiling man.
"Hi, baby." He grinned before turning to the boys. "Now how are my boys doing?"
"Good, gramps! I missed you." Adam smiled, grabbing his grandfather in an open embrace.
"Of course you did. Now you two little tykes come over here and help an old man finish a project."
Adam heaved the axe over his shoulder and approached the mighty oak. It was devoid of branches thanks to a solid hour of stripping the tree with his brother. Long ropes tied the tree down to prevent any accidental falling of the tree towards them and Grandpa Torres was off in the back, preparing another tree with Drew. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead already, but he wiped them with the back of his hand and rooted his feet on the ground, balancing himself before throwing his arms forward at the tree. He had a job to do.
Thunk..Thunk. Thunk.
The sounds of the axe hitting the tree increased in speed as he drowned his mind out and went with the sound, and before long, the tree stood shakily. Adam stood back as Drew walked over to him and gave the barely standing tree a heavy-footed kick. As it fell towards the ground, Adam passed the axe to Drew. Wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, Adam pulled on work gloves and grabbed the fallen tree with both hands. The sound of his phone ringing caught his attention, and excusing himself, he picked up the call.
"Hello?"
"I'm so bored. Come back."
"A hello would've been nice." Grinning, Adam held the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he pulled off his work gloves.
"No. I don't do nice." Bianca's voice brought a wide grin to Adam's face, and stuffing the gloves in his back pocket, Adam tried not to laugh.
"So you miss me, huh?" Adam teased.
"More like I'm bored to death without somebody to bully. Entertain me."
"Go party."
"Don't feel like it."
"Hit up your friends?"
"Hate them."
"Spend time with your aunt."
"Look, I'm bored, not suicidal." Bianca scoffed.
She was lying on her bed, staring at the spinning ceiling fan and trying to suppress the irritatingly impulsive part of her that wanted to run out to wherever Adam was. Adam's voice was light with humor and the sound of it itself alleviated some of the tension she was feeling since she woke up that morning.
"Aw, come on, spending time with family isn't bad. I love chilling back with my grandpa, even though I do miss you."
"You're the sweetest grandson a grandpa could ask for, aren't you?"
"Don't you mean the sweetest everything?" Bianca smiled, closing her eyes at the sound of Adam's soft laughter.
"Don't get full of yourself, idiot."
"Wouldn't even dream of it." He laughed.
"So, you miss me, huh?"
"And I'm the one getting too full of myself?"
"Oh, you poor, misinformed boy. That's how this works, Adam. That's how our dynamic works. I insult you and you take it like a man."
"Well, that's not fair."
"Hey, I don't write the rules." Bianca shrugged, laughing again at Adam's groan.
"Ah, shit!"
Drew tripped over the loose pile of wood by the door, slamming into a table resting on the side of the cabin. A black container tumbled off the workstation, a slightly yellow but mostly clear substance spilling out of it. It spread on the cabin floor as Adam ran to his brother to help pick him up off the ground. A slightly nauseous scent filled up the small room but Adam ignored it, rushing to help his fallen brother up.
"God, I didn't see that." Drew moaned, holding his head with one hand.
"Well, obviously you didn't." Adam retorted, leading his brother out of the cabin and towards his grandfather's house. "Hey, Bianca, I promise I'll call you back later, alright? My idiot brother injured himself."
"Not surprising. I'll hold you to that promise." Bianca responded, sharing one more laugh with the younger Torres before hanging up.
"Let's get you some ice for that nasty bruise you're going to be sporting soon." Adam said, focusing his attention to his brother.
"How about that thing we spilled?" Drew asked, barely processing the walk to the house. "I should go clean it."
"Oh, I'll worry about that later. Leave it to me. Gramps is cool about that stuff so he won't mind me doing it later."
"Ouch, ouch." Drew winced, trying his best to ignore the pain radiating from his head.
Adam ran inside, letting his brother sit down on a chair outside. Running past his parents, he rushed to the freezer and pulled out a pack of ice, ignoring the curious expressions on his parents' faces and heading to his brother. Closing the screen door behind him, he tossed the ice to his brother.
"Here. That should prevent any swelling and hopefully minimize bruising." Adam said, sitting down next to Drew.
"Thanks. Don't know what I'd do without you." Drew groaned, flinching as the cold pack came in contact with his skin.
"Well, lucky for you, I'm around." Adam grinned.
"Ha. Ha." Drew suddenly turned to his brother, "So you were in the middle of a call with Bianca of all people?"
"Oh, forget about that." Adam responded, scratching his head, "She's a really good friend. We're close."
"A little too close, I think." Drew grumbled, "She's not good news, dude."
"She's different, Drew. You know that I would've been the last person who would want to give her a chance after the shit she pulled, but I did, and she's really awesome. There's a lot going on in that head of hers."
"Yeah, probably evil plans to embarrass you or something." Drew sighed, "You're my brother and I care about you. I don't want that girl to ruin a good thing. She's manipulative and selfish."
"She's not manipulative and selfish! Or, at least, not anymore." Adam retorted, crossing his arms, "And who the hell are you to talk?"
"Adam, I don't want to start an argument, okay?" Drew said, readjusting the ice on his head.
"Neither do I, so get off my back about this, alright? I'll do what I think feels right." Adam mumbled.
"Fine, fine, okay. How are you and Fiona, then?" Drew smiled.
"Fiona? Oh, yeah, Fiona, yeah. She's still… pretty." Adam grinned, uncrossing his arms and leaning back, "Don't know if I like her, though."
"Oh, come on, you totally have the biggest crush on her." Drew teased.
"Yeah, yeah, say what you will." Adam laughed.
"I always say what's on my mind." Drew said, "And what's currently on my mind is how freaking hungry I am."
"Are my boys hungry?" Grandpa Torres's head poked out from inside the house.
"Holy shit, Gramps, you're a mind reader." Adam laughed.
"Perfect, because I'm starving," Grandpa Torres said, "And my hardworking boys deserve a little homestyle veal."
Grandpa Torres slid open the screen door all the way and stepped outside, stretching and pulling on his boots.
"Damn, Gramps! Getting ready to work!" Drew cheered.
"Where are you going?" Mrs. Torres asked, following her father outside.
"The cabin." Grandpa Torres whistled, picking up the basket of raw meat slabs. "I keep my grill there because of the abundance of bears around these parts. I'll be back with dinner! Now I'm going to assume you want your meat rare, because I'd be damned if you want it well-done, because real men know that well-done stands for well-you're-done-eating-meat-because-you-don't-appreciate-it-properly."
"Preach!" Adam hollered, laughing with his brother at his grandfather's humorous rant.
"Go set the table." Grandpa Torres grinned, "Grilling is a labor of love, you know."
The two brothers headed inside, making a beeline for the dining room. The tables were already set by Mrs. Torres, so with a shrug, they took their seats, engaging in small talk to pass the time. Thirty minutes in, Mr. Torres frowned and sniffed the air.
"Something's burning."
"Grandpa's grilling it charred?" Drew wondered aloud, frowning.
"What's that sound?" Adam asked, slightly panicked.
Drew arched his head and moved the ice, listening carefully. He could make out crackling and sizzling, almost like the fireplace in his grandfather's living room, but stronger, almost like –
"The fucking – the fucking shit we spilled!" Drew gasped, standing up from his seat at the table, "Adam, that was gasoline!"
Adam was already out the door with his parents and Drew close behind him.
"Grandpa!" Adam screamed, running towards the burning cabin. He reached the burning door, and with all his strength, he pulled at it, but the door wouldn't budge.
"Adam, no!"
He felt the heavy weight of his brother's arms slamming his chest as his brother wrapped his arms around him and pulled him away. The gray plumes of smoke that covered his vision blurred into a dark curtain that surrounded him, his hands still grasping towards the cabin. His brother was walking backwards with him in his arms, the sound of his brother's own muted gasps and the warmth of his brother's tears freezing up his mind.
"Let go! Let go, Drew! Let go! What are you doing?" Adam screamed, clawing at the arms around him.
"You can't go in there!" Drew cried, his tears hitting his brother's shoulders, "God, Adam, you can't go in there! It's gonna-"
Just then, the roof of the cabin collapsed, the flames engulfing the rest of the cabin. Sirens in the distance drew Adam into a trance, his eyes unmoving from the erratic flickering of the fire before him. His heart felt stuck in time, the flames dancing before him, teasing him, mocking him.
"I'm sorry, but…" The fireman shrugged, flicking his hand to point at the other firemen, "They've located the body but unfortunately, he's beyond recognition and beyond, well, living."
"He's… he's passed?" Mr. Torres asked, voice trembling.
"I'm afraid so, yes. We suspect he was somehow knocked unconscious before the fire began, so at least he did not pass in pain." The fireman mentioned, trying to alleviate some of the pain radiating from the family.
"Oh my God." Mrs. Torres cried, burying her head into her husband's shoulder.
Mr. Torres embraced his wife, hands shaking as he tried to erase the thought of the burning cabin in his mind. He turned to his sons, hoping they were better off than he, but he looked away when he saw Adam on his knees, staring straight ahead at the remnants of the cabin and Drew besides him.
"Please, Adam, speak to me, please!" Drew cried, leaning into his brother.
"He…" Adam whispered, body shaking, "He's… And we… and I…"
It was surreal how in one moment, his grandfather was cracking jokes and cutting wood and in all sense of the word, here and just a few moments later, not. It was crazy, insane even, how quickly he disappeared, how long forever sounded like knowing that visiting Gramps wasn't going to happen again, not until forever passed by. It was frightening to even consider the possibility, but with another shiver, he looked down at his hands.
They were slightly burned from him pulling at the door, an unhealthy white staining them. His brother noticed and got up, running for the firemen to get help for his brother, but he stayed in place, staring at his hands.
Guilt filtered was his vision and all he saw was his hands stained red with the blood of his grandfather.
Bianca stared at the ceiling for what felt like the hundredth hour in a row. With a frown, she glanced sideways at her phone on her bedside table, willing it to ring. She felt dismayed at the lack of a call, a bit irritated that it was almost midnight without even a single text message from Adam. She didn't know why it bothered her so much; all she knew was that he promised and his not keeping it was keeping her up.
She debated calling the boy and giving him a piece of his mind, but a strange feeling in her gut told her not to. Adam wasn't the type of guy to break a promise and she was certain he had a legitimate reason for not calling back. She was about to hit herself in the face; this dependence she had growing for the younger boy was beginning to irk her.
With a groan, she rolled over to her side, closing her eyes and attempting to fall asleep.
"Adam, please, could we talk?"
Drew sat down next to his brother, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. His brother hadn't said a word since they drove back home after the horrific evening that transpired the day before. Although he himself was shaken up about the event, Drew put on a brave face. His brother needed him and he had to stay strong for his family.
He took a glance around the room; Fiona's bedroom was simple in contrast to how fashionable she dressed. He sighed; perhaps it wasn't the best idea to come over, but Fiona, Clare, and Eli were the first to find out and they insisted on them coming over for support. He thought maybe having Adam near his closest friends would help.
"Adam, look, I know how you're feeling right now. Fuck, I feel it too. I feel like beating myself over that stupid spill. Christ, if I could go back in time…"
"I could've cleaned it." Adam murmured, eyes dazed, "It wouldn't have taken more than five minutes to clean."
"But I was hurt and you were trying to take care of me." Drew winced, his head still sore, "Please Adam, Gramps wouldn't want us to blame ourselves."
"I'd rather Grandpa blame us and be around." Adam said, staring at his hands.
"Adam…"
"Drew, why did you bring me here?"
"Come on, Adam, we needed something and-"
"Why did you bring me to a fucking pity party?"
"It's not a pity party! Adam, these are your best friends we're talking about. They just want us to know that they're here for us."
"Damn it, Drew, don't you get it? Grandpa's dead. He's gone." Adam yelled, standing, "What kind of delusion are you under? He's gone! He's gone and he'd still be around if we didn't spill that gasoline – you know it and I know it. Stop fucking fooling yourself!"
"Adam, you're being irrational. Come on!"
"Get out of my room, Drew. Please." Adam's voice stilled to a whisper, "I just need some time, alright? I just… please?"
Drew sighed, nodding before stepping out of the room. The door slammed behind him and he stood still in the living room, ignoring the worried expressions on the others.
"Is Adam going to be okay?" Fiona asked, frowning at the closed door.
"He's just messed up about this whole thing." Drew sighed, collapsing on the couch.
"I wish we could help more." Clare muttered, tears staining her cheeks.
"I really don't know what to say to him." Eli agreed, stress lining his face.
"I know that despite what he says, he really appreciates you guys inviting us over." Drew said, with a sullen grin,
"And I think I should head home soon. I think I haven't really been giving myself time to sit down and really absorb what happened."
"Adam can stay over." Fiona said with a sad smile, "I don't think he'd want to be interrupted."
"Yeah, that makes sense." Drew nodded, getting up from the couch.
"I'm heading home too." Eli sighed, "But give me a call if Adam needs me, alright? I'll be over in a heartbeat. I'll give you a ride home, Clare."
A few minutes later, Fiona's apartment was empty. Sitting alone on her couch, Fiona closed her eyes and listened to the thumps of fist hitting wall, and she hoped with all her might that Adam would be okay. She knew he was a strong boy but she was terrified at the thought of this being the final straw to break the boy's back. Drawing in a shaky breath, Fiona walked over to her room and knocked.
"Adam? This is Fiona. I'm going to come inside, alright?"
With a baited breath, she waited for a response, but none came. The thumping came to a stop and taking that as permission to enter, she nudged the door open and stepped inside. The younger boy was kneeling in front of a wall, hands dropped to his side and head resting against the wall. Rushing next to him, she examined the boy's hands, wincing when she saw how bruised they would be in the morning.
"Sorry about the wall." Adam whispered.
Glancing up, she noticed a few bumps along the wall but she brushed it off, instead hurrying to help him to his feet and to the bed.
"Don't even worry about that, Adam." Fiona replied, setting him up against the headboard of the bed.
She frowned, fingers nervously running across his swollen knuckles. The look on her crush's face was disheartening, a mixture of immense depression and guilt, and she could not help but feel empathetic. She remembered a time when she felt so incredibly lost and powerless, and she could only imagine how badly he hurt inside.
Her mind ran into overdrive as she struggled to think of a way to make him feel better. There was an idea brewing in the back of her mind, and something in her told her not to, but she was sure it would work for him. It worked for her. Why wouldn't it work for him?
Rushing out the bedroom and into the kitchen, she grabbed a handle of vodka and two cups. Returning to the room, she poured the vodka into the cups, making sure not to spill, before handing him one.
"This might help." She whispered, encouraging him.
"Alcohol?" He asked, looking up at her with a dead expression.
"It… it helps me." Fiona admitted, staring down into her own cup, "I don't like seeing you like this."
His eyes lowered as he debated in his head, the same, sullen look stuck on his face. He grimaced as another wave of anxiety bubbled in the bottom of his stomach, and before he could think any further, he raised the cup and took a swig. Sputtering at the sting, he coughed until the cold throb faded.
"I don't feel any better." He muttered, turning to Fiona.
"You will." She said, carefully taking a sip of her own cup.
He took another long gulp of the alcohol, shutting his eyes and forcing it down.
"God, that… that stings."
"It does." Fiona agreed, pulling out the handle and pouring him another cup.
Fiona hesitated while screwing the top back on the vodka. Adam was frowning at the vodka, the expression on his face unchanged. Was this a bad idea? All she wanted was to make him happy again. She was afraid the broken look on the boy she adored would become permanent.
"Adam, maybe this was a stupid idea." Fiona sighed, feeling the buzz from the vodka hit her, "I have a lot of stupid ideas. I'm sorry."
"Don't… don't be." Adam slurred.
The corners of his lips turned up into a small smile and she felt a smile of her own coming on.
"I feel a… a… a bit b- better." He continued slurring, taking another sip of his drink.
"That's all that matters." Fiona said with a small slur, putting down her cup and wrapping her arms around him, "I just want you to feel better."
"Yeah… I think I'm…" Adam replied, sinking into Fiona's warm embrace.
"You think you're what?" Fiona asked, releasing the boy and watching as he faced her with a small grin.
"Good."
He smiled for her, his teeth showing and his eyes creasing. Despite how he slightly teetered from side to side, Fiona's entire attention was focused on him. His nose was crinkled in that cute way she liked so much and she wanted physical contact but his hands, burned from the fire and bruised from the wall, were far too damaged to touch. She was too buzzed from the vodka to think twice as her hands shot up, holding his cheeks.
Leaning forward, she captured his lips in hers, an excited tingle running down her body. He stayed stock still, confused at first, but reciprocated the action in a drunken haze. With his weight on her, she leaned back, the boy tumbling down after her. He landed above her, their lips locked and tongues fighting a battle for dominance. This felt like a dream; the boy she wanted so much was on her, his arms holding him above her as he hungrily took her by the mouth.
"Be my boyfriend." She breathed, breaking the kiss and resting her forehead against his.
"Yeah." He replied in a haze, his eyes half-lidded and his arms shaking.
With another gasp, she grabbed him and pulled him down, capturing him in another kiss. Everything felt surreal. Everything felt like the romantic movies she loved so much, where the boy and the girl finally fall for each other. Everything felt so real that she forgot it wasn't.
It was only in the morning when the vodka handle rolled off the bed and made itself known that she remembered they were drinking.
