Later that night, I went to get a glass of water. I saw someone sitting in the living room.

"Mom?"

She looked up, startled. "Jake--hey, sweetheart."

"Hey." I sat down next to her. "What are you doing?"

She gestured to the photo album in her lap. "Looking through some old pictures." I noticed her eyes were red-rimmed and there was a bunch of used tissues nearby on the couch and floor.

"Oh." I glanced down to see a picture of Suze at age six, smiling widely at the camera. She was missing her two front teeth and had her hair in pigtails. I smiled. "Cute picture. I'm surprised she didn't burn it."

Mom smiled too, tearfully. "I had to hide them from her for years. I couldn't sleep, so..."

"Yeah, that seems to be running around a bit," I said, looking straight ahead. I felt her gently stroking my hair.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "This has to be terrible for you."

I felt myself relax slightly. Like, just for a moment, I didn't have to be strong. "Yeah," I whispered. "It is."

I saw her nod. "When was the last time you ate?" I asked, looking at her. "You're too skinny."

A corner of her mouth crooked up. "Isn't that my line?"

I stood up and dragged her off the couch. "Come on. Let's go find some leftovers."

~*~

"Can I join you?"

Mom and I looked up from our bowls of reheated spaghetti. David was standing there in his pajamas with tousled hair.

Mom smiled. "Of course, sweetie."

He nodded and poured himself a bowl of Cheerios. He took out the milk, opened it, and frowned. "How long have we had this milk?"

"A while now," Mom said.

He sniffed it gingerly and wrinkled his nose. "It's spoiled."

"We really need to buy some groceries," Mom said softly. "I'll go tomorrow--"

"I can do it," I offered.

"Really?"

"Sure," I said, shrugging. "Just give me a list and I'll take care of it."

Mom smiled and then kissed me on the cheek. "Thanks, sweetheart."

"No problem," I said. And for some reason, when she kissed me, I didn't feel the least bit embarrassed.

~*~

"Jake, what are you doing here?"

I looked up to see Dana West, a girl in my psych class, walking towards me with a basket full of groceries.

"Hey, Dana," I said. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Where have you been for the past few days?" Dana asked curiously. "You haven't been to any of your classes and no one's seen you around campus."

I raised an eyebrow. "You've been checking up on me?"

She blushed and stared down at the ground. "I was kind of worried," she mumbled.

"There's a family emergency I have to deal with," I told her. That's one way of putting it...

"Oh." Her blue eyes looked up into mine. "Can--can I ask what it is?"

I took a deep breath and stared mindlessly at the shelves of peanut butter in front of me. "My sister went into a coma. I've been spending most of my time at the hospital with my family."

I heard a soft intake of breath. "Oh my God, Jake, I'm so sorry." Her hand was on my arm, and normally I would have been trying to get up the nerve to ask her out. She was pretty, nice, and liked to surf--

But these weren't normal circumstances.

I forced myself to smile. "It's all right." No, it's not all right. Nothing right now is. "Listen, I've got to get out of here." I turned and started walking away quickly.

"Jake, wait--"

I didn't look back.

~*~

As I opened the door, my arms full of groceries, I called, "Anybody here!"

Brad came down the stairs. "Everyone's at the hospital," he informed me.

I raised an eyebrow. "And you're not there because..."

"I didn't want to be," he said defiantly.

I glared at him. "You haven't been to the hospital ever since Suze got in there."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" I demanded.

"Well, excuse me, Saint Jake," Brad said, sarcasm tainting his voice. "If you could move out of the way, I've got to go."

"Oh, what are you going to do?" I asked derisively. "Go surfing?"

His eyes flashed. "Get the hell out of my way."

"Gladly," I snarled, and stomped off to the kitchen.

Jackass, I fumed. The asshole...what the hell's wrong with him?

Just then, the phone rang.

"Hello?" I snapped.

"Jake? It's me, Cee Cee."

"Oh, hey, Cee Cee," I said, forcing myself to sound calmer. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just--wanted to see how you were. How's everything going?"

"Other than realizing my brother's an uncaring bastard, not much."

There was a long pause on the other line. "You mean Brad."

"Who else?" I sighed. "What is wrong with him? It's not like this is the first--" I stopped abruptly.

"It's got to be hard for him," Cee Cee said softly.

"You think it's easy for me?" I asked angrily. "Or David or my dad--it's not. It sucks. I hate going to that hospital and seeing her there but we still go, because she's family and because if it was the other way around she'd be visiting us and--" I stopped. "He shouldn't be acting like nothing's changed, because everything's changed and..." I sighed again.

"Have you told him this?" Cee Cee asked.

"How can I? He's never around!"

"I think you should talk to him. Somebody needs to talk to him. To be honest, people at school are starting to talk about it--they're wondering why and--I don't know. It just sounds like someone needs to talk to him."

"What do I say?" I asked. "I'm not good with--words and stuff. I don't--I'll screw it up--I won't know the right thing to say--"

"Jake, all you need to say is what you just told me. I think he'll listen."

"Why are you so confident about this?" I asked. "How can you be so sure about him? He's my brother, but even I'll admit he's not exactly a saint."

I heard a soft chuckle. "Jake, no one will ever accuse your brother of sainthood any time soon. But--he's not completely horrible either. When I was in sixth grade, there was this bully, Bertha Watkins. She made it her personal mission to make my life a living hell, and she succeeded by the way. One day, I was walking to my locker after school, and Bertha was waiting for me. She knocked my books out of my arms and snatched my glasses off my face and then broke them. Well, I burst into tears and she walked off, laughing. Then Brad came up to me. And then he went and helped me pick up my books and papers. Handed me a tissue to mop up my face."

"My brother?" I asked, stunned. "You sure you're not confusing him with someone else?"

Cee Cee laughed. "No, I'm sure.  And--I don't know. Every time I see your brother I think about that. He's not--completely horrible. Yeah, he's a jerk most of the time--but--just talk to him, okay?"

"Okay," I said. "I will. Thanks."

"No problem. See you later, Jake."

"Bye, Cee Cee."

I heard a click, and hung up.

Yeah, he's a jerk most of the time--but--just talk to him okay?

Tomorrow, I thought to myself. I'll talk to Brad tomorrow.

A/N: Yes, I realize Brad has been nothing but a huge jerk throughout this story. There are reasons for that which will be explained in the next chapter. I pretty much had to make him act like that so that certain things later on could play out. Basically, all I'm saying is that yes, there is more to Brad than meets the eye. And David will come into this later.