AN: This chapter contains... somewhat graphic content. Nothing over the top, but graphic all the same. Please proceed with that caution in mind.

o o o o o o

It's funny, but sometimes everything in your world just seems to get completely out of hand. Everything's going to hell, and you just can't take it anymore, and you feel like any day now it's all going to crash and burn. You always expect something earth-shattering to happen, but it never does. Instead, life does what it always does. It goes on. Life is brilliantly anti-climactic like that.

And so just when it seemed like my life had run off the tracks, everything went back into motion again, rhythmic and predictable as always. My dysfunctional family and I slipped into a routine that was as close to normal as we could manage. Everything was still fucked up beneath the surface, but there was at least that shell of normality. Warmer weather was in full swing, and somehow that seemed to lighten the mood of our heavy house. I was still miserable, Sean was still angry, and Ellie and I were still dealing with the awkwardness of our brush with lust, but we kept at the grind. Work, school, TV, cereal, light conversation, arguments over bathroom time. We tried to keep life as uncomplicated and uninteresting as possible.

It was a Saturday in April when I woke up to the sounds of slow, rumbling thunder and a continuous drizzle of heavy rain. Bleak, ethreal green light filtered through the blinds into my dark room. I flopped over onto my side and stared at the alarm clock that read 3:16. I'd worked a double the day before, and my long sleep had been a welcomed and beautiful thing. It was painful to crawl out of the comfort of the disheveled sheets; I could have stayed there all day. But I had to piss, and I was craving breakfast, and try as I might, I never could sleep through a storm.

The house felt somehow more inviting than usual as it resonated with the sounds of rain. It was the kind of gray, sleepy day that blanketed you in a pleasant stupor. As I sauntered into the kitchen I caught a glimpse of Ellie lying on the couch in cotton shorts and a black tank top, scarfing Sean's M&M stash as she watched cartoons. Watching her red hair pour over the side of the couch as she placed tiny candies between her lips, I suddenly realized that chocolate candy at three in the afternoon was the ideal breakfast.

"Shove over and pass the candy," I said, nudging her leg with my bare foot. She lifted her head of unruly hair and looked at me with a pair of weary brown eyes.

"I'm comfortable," she whined.

"Yeah, well, I'm hungry," I countered. "And I pay the rent. So scoot."

With a soft groan of irritation, she pulled in her extended legs and made room for me to sit down. Once I'd settled in, she stretched them back out again and rested them casually across my lap. As if we were that intimate of friends, that we could just lay on each other and be completely nonchalant about it. As if the last time we were this close, we weren't tearing into each other like hungry dogs. As if we were both mature enough to ignore that spark between us. I sighed, but said nothing as I reached my hand into the giant bag of M&Ms. We watched cartoons together in comfortable, contented silence as the volume of candy in the bag gradually decreased. Ellie continually glanced back at the clock on the microwave, and after awhile her fidgeting started to bug me.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Pizza guy running late?"

Ellie shook her head distractedly. "I'm worried."

"Worried about what?"

"Sean hasn't come home yet."

I shrugged as I poured another handful of multi-colored candy balls into my mouth. "Yeah? How long's he been out?"

"Since last night. Someone called here for him, and then he said he had to go take care of something. He never came home." She began to nervously chip away the purple nail polish on her fingers.

I chewed contemplatively and exhaled as I absorbed this knowledge. I wasn't too unsettled by it; Sean and I were so rarely home at the same time that his absence wasn't overhwhelming to me. "Sean's a big kid," I decided. "I'm sure he's got it under control."

Ellie lifted her legs off of me and pulled them to her chest. She brushed her hair out of her face and nestled her chin between her knees. "Yeah. Sure."

The rest of my afternoon was just as blissfully uneventful. Ellie wandered off after awhile and started doing things around the house, leaving me free reign of the couch and the remote. I watched mindless Grade F television and finished off Sean's candy while the storm barreled on unceasingly. I was content to waste the day away on the couch in my boxers, hiding from the storm-worn world outside. Ellie did chores all day, pacing around the house with a kind of subtle nervousness, but I never once got up. I didn't even think twice about Sean.

Sometime later Ellie waltzed into the living room, plopped a grilled cheese sandwich on a paper plate into my lap, and crawled onto the couch beside me. She put two cold cans of Coca Cola on the coffee table and ripped open a bag of potato chips without explanation. Grateful but slightly bewildered, I took a bite of my sandwich.

"I'm feeling the Suzy Homemaker vibe today," I teased, popping open my soda. "But, honey, no umbrellas for the drinks?"

"Funny, Tracker," she said through bites of sandwich. "I can't even make a sandwich without having you rag on me. You really get kick out of torturing me, don't you?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

She fought a smile and rolled her eyes and we continued to eat. Ellie licked the salt from her fingers every time she put a chip into her mouth, and with every other chew, it seemed, she glanced back at the clock again. Lick, chew, glance. Lick. Chew. Glance. She was unsettled, and that unsettled me.

"Ellie, chill," I commanded. "You're killing me here."

She dropped her eyes and licked her fingers once more. "Sorry. I was just thinking." She looked at the clock again.

I sighed and scratched the back of my head. "And would you stop looking at the clock? Jesus. It hasn't changed in the past thirty seconds. Just stop worrying about Sean, all right? I don't know where the fuck he is but I'm sure he's fine. The dude's gone for a few hours and you're freaking out. Since when do you even give a shit, anyway?"

She narrowed her eyes at me and drew her legs closer to her body. "He is my boyfriend, you know. And he's your brother. You don't find it even the slightest bit alarming that he was out all night and never called?"

"No. No I don't, because Sean's a dude, and a teenager, and a Cameron, and having been all those things myself, I'm not surprised at all that we don't know where the fuck he is. It happens. You know, you don't know Sean as well as you think you do." It was happening again. She was getting under my skin again. I sighed and reached for my pack of cigarettes from the coffee table.

Ellie's eyes flared with hurt as she pouted angrily at me. "Oh, really? You don't think so? How would you even know, Tracker? You haven't even been here the past year."

And thank God for that, I thought to myself. How could I ever have dealt with an entire year of Ellie? I took a few a drags of my cigarette and shook my head at her. "No. No, I haven't. You know why? Because Sean can take care of himself. All that time I was in Alberta, I knew Sean was gonna be okay. And you know, the really funny part is..." I paused and took a long drag, and then continued, waving my cigarette unintentionally in her face, "I knew he had a girlfriend, and I knew how crazy he was about you, and I thought, well that's great, she'll make sure he does all right. But now that I've met you, I can't believe Sean didn't go fucking crazy on his own. You are... the most unbelievable person I have ever met."

She took a few quick, sharp, angry breaths, staring me down with all Hell burning in her eyes. She pursed her lips a few times to speak before finally squinting bitterly and shaking her head. "Yeah?" she said. "Well... fuck you."

She gave the orange rubber band around her wrist a few good pops and chugged a gulp of her Coke. I exhaled and stared before shrugging and taking another bite of my sandwich. I mean, I couldn't very well argue with that.

She let out a troubled groan, tugging her fingers through her hair. "Is there a reason you hate me so much?" she asked. "I mean, just out of curiosity. What did I ever do to you?"

I stopped midchew and sighed tiredly. I looked at her as she waited expectantly for my response, and shook my head. I swallowed. "It's not that I hate you. Really. It's just... I don't know, Ellie. You get on my nerves. I just get the feeling that everything that comes out of your mouth is bull shit. And that's annoying."

Her brow furled and she slid closer to me, tilting her head in a pleading kind of way. She spoke softly. "But that's not true. It's really not. I mean, fuck, everybody lies, Tracker. I'm not a bad person. I do the best I can. Why don't you ever believe that I'm trying?"

She was so close to me, eyes gleaming with innocence. Bull shit gently pouring from her lips as usual. Why did she keep doing this to me? Why did I have to deal with this? I wanted to look away but I couldn't. I cracked a hard smile. "Because you don't try, Ellie. You know you don't. And you don't have to put on this little show in front of me, because I've seen your kind a hundred times before and I know what you're about." I did know, all too well, and that's why I was trying so desperately hard not to fall into this trap. "You're a selfish little bitch and you pretend to care about Sean but the only thing you give a flying fuck about is you."

She swallowed and trembled a little bit. Maybe she wanted to cry, but I couldn't tell. Maybe she was faking. Everything about Ellie was misleading. She just shook her head, looking at me with hard eyes. "That's not true."

"Isn't it, though? Sean doesn't even know about half the things you do. You're hiding everything from him. You cheated on him, for Christ's sake. And what about that one day, Ellie? What about me and you? You don't think that was wrong? Sean doesn't mean shit to you."

She exhaled. "Sean means everything to me, okay? It's just that..." She closed her eyes and popped her rubber band. She opened them up again and glared at me. She was breaking. "You know what? Fuck you. I make mistakes. I'm not going to deny that. I think you're hot, and that day, you were lonely, and I saw an opportunity, okay? I just wanted to fucking touch you. I'm a bad person. Is that what you want to hear? It's true. I'm a bad person. I made a mistake. But I'm over it now. It's not going to happen again." She turned away.

In the depths of my conscience, I needed her to say that. I needed her to condemn those moments we'd touched each other, so that I could move on and ignore it. But on a shallow, more potent level, I was aching. I didn't want her to be over it. I wanted her to be just as consumed by it as I was. I wanted her to be haunted, the way I'd been haunted for weeks, by that kiss and that skin and that loss of all control. I wanted her to say it, so that I wouldn't have to be the one to admit to how bad I wanted it.

I reached forward, pushing the mask of red and black hair out of her face. She looked at me. I put my hand on her bare shoulder, realizing suddenly this was one of the few times I'd ever seen her without her signature long sleeves. The scars on her arms, some barely there and others fresh and new, stared up at me. I stroked her shoulder softly, our gaze unbroken. We had one of those silent conversations with our eyes, breathing a little faster than usual and not moving at all. Now, this is just my interpretation, but I think it went something like:

Hey, Tracker, why the fuck are you touching me?

Iunno.

Oh, really? NOW who's being a selfish bitch?

Yeah, yeah, I know. So fucking sue me. You said I was hot.

I know. Please don't kiss me.

Why not?

Because I'm going to let you.

I slid my fingers through her hair, twisting the red strands and pulling her closer to me. "Damn it, Ellie," I said, slowly meeting her lips. I could feel her shaky breathing as her lips moved hungrily against mine. When she opened her mouth I knew it was over, gone to hell, completely out of control. We weren't going to be able to stop it. It was kind of like... like you come into the kitchen and you find this fucking amazing chocolate cake just sitting there. And you might have just eaten like, a really big meal or something and you're not even hungry, but damn it, you're going to eat a piece of that cake. Because it's there. And it's cake. It tastes good. Ellie tasted good. And she was there. It was there, between us. We were hungry. We had to have it.

So much for normal.

She was feathers in my arms as I held her, kissing the supple skin of her shoulder. I moved down, down, across her chest, down to neckline of her tank top, down into the nook between her breasts. She sighed as I cupped them in my hands, moving my lips across her tender skin. I kissed her on the mouth again as my hands wandered beneath the thin cotton of her clothes, building up my anticipation and sinking into the ecstasy of the freedom I had at last. That's the real appeal of sex, you know. The freedom. All boundaries are erased. I could ignore the stipulations of reality, the reality that told me I wasn't allowed to touch Ellie. I could break the rules and touch her anywhere I wanted to, explore every corner of her skin. Sex was freedom, and I was tired of standing outside Ellie's walls. I began to peel the clothing off her body.

She closed her eyes and panted softly as I undressed her, her body going limp and handing over all control. I waited for her to say stop, or for my brain to say stop, but for some reason that moment never came. Piece by piece the layers that covered her were removed, showing me the flesh I'd fantasized about, however unwillingly, since the night I'd seen her stroll slutfully into the convenient store with Spinner. She looked somewhat ghostly, stretched out across that puke green couch, naked and staring at me with those eerie hazel eyes. She watched as I took off my own clothes, her face strangely emotionless. You would expect her to be tough, fiesty. The kind of girl who'd take off your pants, claw at your skin, bite your tongue. But she wasn't. Without her clothes, that smart-mouthed, self-assured persona was rubbed away. I realized immediately she wasn't the kind of girl who took control, the kind of girl I'd assumed she was for a long time. A naked, thin, delicate girl was sprawled out in front of me, legs open and dangling over the side of the couch, staring with a pair of eyes that said simply, "Go."

I guess guilty sex is the best kind. I tried not to think too much, but it was impossible. Everytime I looked down at her sweaty face, mouth open and red hair strewn across it, I remembered that this was Ellie. Ellie that I hated. Ellie that was my little brother's girlfriend. Ellie that was only sixteen years old. Sean might walk in at any minute, I thought. Her drunken mother might walk in at any minute. My drunken mother might walk in at any minute. The whole fucking world might just walk in and see this, see our crime, see her young legs wrapped so tightly around me, hear her scream, watch me shove my tongue down her throat and squeeze her all over with no remorse. And those thoughts just made me want it more. She fit so perfectly in my embrace, whispering my name again and again as we throbbed rhythmically against the decayed couch. We fell into each other so fearlessly. We'd both wanted it for too long to be timid. We took everything we could, while we could. The rain sang endlessly outside, slamming against every wall of my cheap house. It tasted so wrong I never wanted it to be over.

"Tracker," she breathed, clutching my shoulders and gently sucking on my neck. "Tracker, god..."

I pushed into her harder, watching her inhale sharply, and hated myself inside. You are a bad person, I said to myself. But that didn't stop it from feeling so good.

When it was over, and we were spent, there was nothing to say. We laid close to one another, breathing heavily, speaking with our eyes again. I wish we hadn't let that happen, I told her. She nodded with apologetic eyes and grabbed me by the hair, pulling me towards her to kiss her. Kissing Ellie was like a rush of oxygen-heavy blood to my head. It was a jolt-start to my brain, tasting the forbidden, inciting my hunger. Just like fucking cake, man, I swear. It's bad for you, but it tastes better than all the rest.

In the afterglow that followed, she laid across the couch, legs spread over my lap, the same way we'd watched TV all morning. Only, you know, naked. I trailed my fingers down her side and to her hips, petting her gently. I smoked a cigarette with my free hand. We listened to the rain and the creaking ceiling fan. We didn't look at each other. I wondered what she was thinking. I wondered what I was thinking. The full extent of my actions had not yet settled into my brain, and for that I was grateful. All I could be at that moment was bewildered. How fucking weird was this? And at the same time, how fucking typical of me. I was always taking a few steps too far over the line that separated "okay" and "fucked up."

And all at once, fear consumed me. I heard Sean's key in the door.

Fuck.

Things had never moved so fast in all my life. A lightning streak of naked Ellie rolled off of me and zipped into her bedroom. I searched desperately for my boxers and t-shirt and threw myself into them as fast as I could, accidently grazing my own arm with my cigarette in the process. Sean pushed open the door just as I had finished pulling my shirt over my head and plopped into a relaxed position on the couch. He trudged into the house, slowly shutting the door behind him. His clothes were soaked, and his eyes were tired. He walked into the living room and stopped in front of the couch.

"Hey," he said, scratching the back of his wet head. His voice was coated with exhaustion.

"Hey," I answered. I can't remember a more surreal moment in my entire life than that moment right there.

He blinked tiredly and collapsed next to me on the couch. "What's up?" he asked. He reached for the empty bag of M&Ms on the table, and frowned as he peaked inside. "You ate my candy."

I took a puff of my cigarette and looked at him with as much indifference as I could possibly fake. He had no idea. "Yeah. Sorry about that, bro. Blame Ellie, she's the one who got them out." Yes, for the love of God. Blame Ellie.

Sean nodded vaguely, as if he had far too much on his mind to give a shit about a bag of candy. He sighed, and gazed at me with guilty eyes. "I'm sorry, Tracker."

I exhaled a stream of smoke and stared at him, completely confused. "Sorry about what?"

He pulled off his soaked black hoodie and tossed it to the floor. Thank god we were all such horrible slobs and left shit on the floor all the time; Sean hadn't even noticed Ellie's scattered clothing. "I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time when Phil had to stay here for a few days. I shouldn't have been such an ass about it." He sighed again. "Last night there was this... problem. Ashley called me... Craig had some kind of tantrum or something and he hurt her... she didn't want to call the police. We took him to the hospital, and it's just been this huge, long ordeal..." He rubbed his tired eyes and paused to yawn. "What I'm saying is, Craig's my friend, and I didn't like what he was doing, but I understood that he needed help. And I had to be there for him. And when you wanted to help Phil, I didn't get it before. But now I do. And I just wanted to say I'm sorry for the things I said to you."

Too stunned to speak, I slowly reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. A hand that, only a few minutes earlier, had touched his naked girlfriend. I nodded to him. "Don't worry about it, man. It's cool."

Sean bit his lip and nodded. "Cool. Well... I'm beat. I didn't exactly get any sleep last night. I'm gonna hit the sack." He got off the couch and headed towards his bedroom, kicking his shoes off carelessly as he did so. He stopped when he reached his door. "And you totally owe me a bag of M&Ms, man."

I forced a laugh. "Whatever you say, Seany." He chuckled and went into his bedroom.

I exhaled and sunk deeper into the couch, feeling a metric ton of guilt press down on me. Sean had just apologized to me, for something that was completely insignificant to me at this point. And I had just fucked his girlfriend.

I am a shitty person.