Alive

By: Aviantei

6 mph


"…so, yeah, I think all my classes are going good." I hum into the phone as Nathan finishes explaining his current college curriculum. He's studying engineering, though he hasn't said whether or not he's trying to work for an IGPX team or not. As an older sister who skipped over secondary education, I have enough pride in my brother to overtake the rest of the seven deadly sins. "What about you, Sis? What new and exciting things have you gotten into lately? Break any bones again?"

"Hey now," I chide with a grimace. A hot desert's breeze blows across the balcony, setting off the delicate tinkle of my wind chimes. Being on the top floor, my seat has a fantastic view of the city and even the wastelands beyond it. "I haven't been up to too much. Nothing wild."

Nathan snorts into the phone. "Sorry, static." Little shit. Ever since he found out phones decades ago had signal trouble… "But let's get real here," he continues, "you have never sat still in your life. What kind of trouble are you really up to? Are you not telling me because Dad would flip his shit if he found out? Come on, I can keep a secret."

"Whoa there, easy boy." Nathan and I are very much cut from our mother's cloth: too much energy to have anything reasonable to do with it. I lean back in my deck chair, enjoying the kiss of sun on my skin. I used to be so tan; all being lazy has left me with is a complexion whiter than plain yogurt. "I've been making plans. I've made a new friend recently, and I'm going to have a great time teaching the definition of 'fun.'" I grin just thinking about it.

"Huh. So you can make friends." Mariya would be offended. I roll my eyes and squint into the sky. Shoulda brought my sunglasses out. "Don't go too hard on her, okay? You don't want so scare someone off that'll actually hang around you."

Clouds drift across the open sky. "Don't you worry," I assure. "This guy can handle a little rush. If he's scared off so easily, it's not my fault." Wait, if I scare him, would that mean he loses, I lose, or it's a draw? I'll have to check.

Nathan is silent for far longer than a polite pause would allow. I listen hard. There's no one else talking on the other side, either. I count the seconds, and after seventeen Nathan clears his throat.

"So," he says, "you're seeing a guy."

If I had been taking a drink, I would have choked on it. Even still, I make an undignified sound in my throat, which spirals into a coughing fit. I haul myself up to my feet and retreat inside the condo's air conditioning for a bottle of water.

"Are you stupid?" I wheeze out. I thump my chest, salvaging my voice. Nathan snickers. "I don't date, Nathan, and you know that. Besides, Dad would have a conniption even if I did." I wonder how Cunningham would take it if I suggested it, though? Probably get your ass arrested, is what. Eyes on the prize.

"Come on." Nathan's still very much snickering. Instead of reaching for an insult, I chug through a bottle, water ice cold from the fridge. "If a guy could keep up with your thrill-seeking nonsense, you can't tell me it wouldn't be a good match."

"Yeah, and have him throw a fit when I don't let him 'thrill seek' in me? Been there, done that, never trying it again." Not that Cunningham seems like he would be so petty, but plenty of guys out there are. "I'm happy staying single if that's what it takes."

I crumble up my bottle and toss it in recycling. "Alright," Nathan relents. "But this new 'friend' of yours have a name?"

There's a split second where I debate between lie and truth. The former wins. "Cunningham Hume." Nathan stammers, but I press forward. "How's Caleb's driving coming along? Dad ready to tear out his hair yet?"

"You mean what little hair he has left?" Nathan teases. We share a laugh at the expense of our father. I'll get it for not continuing the conversation next time I head home, but that's okay. "Well, Kir, after having to make sure you didn't get pulled over every five-hundred feet, I'd say Caleb's a welcome relief." Part of me feels bad for being such a stress for Dad; the other has too many fond memories to regret it for long. "I drove with him when I went back for my last break. He's doing well."

"That's good." Back outside, I head up to the railing and lean against it, smiling into the next passing wind. I may not have been the best role model, but I'm glad my baby bros are doing well. "And Dad…?"

Nathan's next hesitation is enough to drop my mood and my smile. I feel a ridge forming between my eyebrows. Nathan inhales and exhales—some deep breathing technique he uses to calm down. "He's carrying on," Nate says. For the first time our conversation, he sounds like my little brother again and not the confident young man he's grown to be. "The doctors' say his condition isn't worsening, so that's a plus. But he hasn't slowed down at work like they say he should."

I sigh. If there's anyone who can out stubborn me, it's Dad. It's a wonder I turned out the way I did. "As long as he's stable, it's okay for now." But how long can he stay stable? What if he pushes too far again? What if—Nathan can't see it, but I smile, hoping it'll help the tone of my voice. As the oldest, I need to stay strong when my family needs it, and boy do we need it. "If you or Caleb notices him getting exhausted, you can call an ambulance for him. Or if you don't want to, tell me, and I'll call an ambulance for him." Far out on the horizon, I catch sight of storm clouds in the distance. Good thing we're heading out of town today. "Don't worry, Nate. Tailors are strong. Dad'll make it through this, no trouble at all."

Nathan breathes again, and his next words sound a bit more cheerful. "You're right. Thanks, Kir." My smile feels a bit more real, despite myself. What a good kid. "Hey, you are coming back home for my birthday, right? You promised, you promised."

"Of course I'll be there." It'll take a day away from the 'Get Cunningham not to Out Me to the Police' initiative, but it'll be worth it. He might even have practice that day. I'll compare notes. "I'll bring you something awesome, too, so don't fuss. Just take care of yourself 'til then, alright?"

"You, too. Ah, whoops." Something clatters from Nathan's end. "I gotta meet up with a group to discuss a project for lunch, so I gotta go."

I nod, then remember my brother can't see it. "No prob. I've got somewhere to be soon, too, so I'll let you go."

The racket of Nathan collecting his gear pauses. "Somewhere with Cunningham Hume?" he tries.

"Aren't you going to be late, brother dear?"

Nathan curses and hangs up the phone.


It's just an hour's flight to the California coastline. It's almost a bit excessive to have taken first class, but there's nothing wrong with traveling in style. Cunningham sits in the deluxe seat across from me, looking mighty uncomfortable. How is a mystery, because this seat is almost as glorious as his couch. I munch on my breakfast snack, a delightful and crunchy biscotti. The coffee is to die for, too. Cunningham hasn't touched his plate.

"I can't believe you're taking me to the beach," he deadpans.

"Scuba diving," I remind him, between sips of coffee. I'm starting to get a little pumped, and I don't care if it's just from the caffeine. "There's a great view of a sunken ship at where we're going. Of course, if that doesn't interest you, we can always go surfing." I shrug. A stewardess passes by and takes my by now empty plate. "Oceans are great, and I haven't been to one in over a year, so it's a good opportunity."

Cunningham asks for a water to pair with his coffee and waits for the stewardess to retreat further down the aisle. "Shipwreck, huh?" He's no good at hiding the interest in his voice. "You've been this way before?"

I swirl coffee in its mug, letting some of the heat out. "Nah. Last time I went scuba diving I went to this place that had octopi. Cool stuff." So many legs, too. "That place is in the same area if you're interested, but I'd rather have a new experience for the both of us."

"I'm not the one with something at stake here," Cunningham says, raising his coffee to his lips. Touché. His amusement trades out for seriousness. I've seen it handful of times and I already hate the expression. "We are coming back this evening, right? I do have practice tomorrow, you know."

Yes, I know all about your silly schedule. I put on a smile as the stewardess returns with Cunningham's requested water. She pauses a bit and studies the man, as if trying to decide if he's who she thinks he is. I don't blame her; without his racing gear, he looks rather plain. I smirk a little and raise my voice just enough. "Man, you guys sure don't know the definition of off season, do you? You'd think after all the racing you'd at least get a vacation."

The stewardess catches onto my words, missing the low glare Cunningham shoots at me. I keep my expression casual. "Well," I continue, "I guess all that work's why you guys do so well, huh, Cunningham?"

The stewardess's eyes go wider than the plate she served our biscotti on. A guy in the seat behind Cunningham cranes his neck a bit to try and sneak a peek behind him. A few offhand mutters go through the cabin. "Um," the stewardess says, starting to blush, "I'm sorry, sir, but if you don't mind—"

Cunningham's already converting his napkin into a quick autograph opportunity. I prop my chin on my hands and watch. His brow's furrowed a bit, even if he smooths out his expression when looking up to the woman. "Here, Grace," he says, handing her the napkin. I didn't even notice her nametag. "Thanks for all your great service today. You mind keeping this hush-hush? I'm taking a mini vacation, so I don't want much trouble."

"Yes, of course!" Grace clutches the napkin to her chest before tucking it into her vest pocket. I've seen druggies mid-high who look less blissful. "Ah, I'm sorry, I need to attend to the rest of the flight. Thank you very much!" She scurries to her cart again, pencil skirt straining as she rolls away. Cunningham checks that the passengers across from us are still immersed in their work before staring me down.

"Do you get off on causing trouble for others or what?"

I snicker into my hand. "Oh, lighten up. I was just curious how you'd handle it." As expected, his smile had been weak, his tone near bored save for the slightest traces of courtesy. It's a mechanical action, one he hates. "Besides, you've probably made that girls' week. No harm no foul." I decide not to mention the man behind him standing up a bit, phone at the ready to take a picture. I smile and wave for the camera, and Cunningham whirls around just as the digital shutter clicks.

Another apology and autograph session later (this one in the man's business planner), Cunningham downs both his coffee and water in short succession.

"You are getting very close to being much more trouble than you are worth," he grumbles.

I pull out my phone and snap a photo of my own, capturing Cunningham's disgruntled glare in memory.


[Author's Notes]

This week, we get some glimpses at Kirsten's family, as well as her trouble-making tendencies. Both of these are important, so keep your eyes peeled! I'm a fan of Nathan myself, so I'm excited for when I get to show off more of him to you guys.

This past week for me has been hectic, but then again I feel that all weeks are sometimes. I'm having some complications with finding the right work/budget/life balance, but you can rest assured that updates will continue to come strong! There's still a good month and then some of updates lined up, so know that chapter seven will arrive next Saturday. Please look forward to it!

-Avi

[04.09.2018]