Page 34 of Final Serenade

“What the hell were you thinking?” I asked as we neared the car. My blood boiled with resentment and frustration.

“Cassy,” my mother said from behind me.

“No, Mom.” Tense, I spun to face her, my gaze darting between her and Ashton. “When are you going to stop babying him? He’s almost eighteen, for God’s sake. I had a job at sixteen!”

“Yeah, like you’re so perfect!” Ashton mumbled, reaching for the passenger door of my Honda.

“No one’s perfect,” I countered, grabbing the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “And you’re sitting in the back, buddy. No DJ privileges for you in my car.” Everything about my brother’s behavior was wrong. I had no words. Or, at least, they weren’t coming out the way I wanted them to.

He jerked his arm away irritably. “Get off.”

I nudged him in the direction of the back seat. “What on earth were you thinking? Getting drunk in a public place on a school night?”

“It’s okay.” My mother tried to be a referee, but I wasn’t going to let her win this one. She’d been forgiving my not-so-little delinquent brother for everything, and at some point, it had to stop. Preferably before he ended up in jail for longer than eight hours.

“Don’t touch me,” Ashton grumbled. “Mom? Tell her. This is child abuse.”

“If you drink, you’re not a child anymore,” I snapped, motioning at the door. “Get in or I’ll go get the officer and tell him you’re creating a public disturbance.”

Rolling his eyes, my brother got into the back seat.

We drove home in grim silence. No words, no music. A freaking machete couldn’t have cut the tension inside the car. I was too wound up to talk and didn’t want to say something I’d later regret.

By the time we got to Mom’s, I’d started receiving emails from folks on the East Coast. People across the continent were awake, rested, and ready to seize the day. I was a miserable bundle of nerves wrapped into a whole lot of mixed feelings who hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep and who needed to finish three articles before lunch.

Ashton headed straight to his room. Mom didn’t care to give him a lecture. Instead, she hid in the bathroom. It was typical behavior in our family during a time of distress. We chose denial over facing our fears. I tried to refocus my energy on something else, something less vile. Then I heard her crying.

“Mom?” I knocked on the bathroom door several times.

She didn’t answer.

“Mom. Come on. Can I talk to you for a second?”

The lock snapped and her head peeped through the crack, eyes red and swollen. “I don’t know what to do with him anymore. He doesn’t listen to me at all.” She wrung her hands. “And now this.”

“Why don’t you get some sleep and I’ll see what I can do.”

Things needed to change around here, and since begging and yelling didn’t work, the situation called for a different, more holistic approach.

“We’re going to have a serious talk,” I stated as I let myself into my brother’s room.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” He sat on his bed cross-legged, chewing his lips, index finger exploring the newly formed hole in his jeans. For the first time in months, he wasn’t holding a game controller or staring at the TV screen.

I went straight for the Xbox.

“Don’t fucking touch anything!” There was genuine panic in his voice. Determined, he slid from the bed. I found it funny that the legal repercussions didn’t bother him as much as confiscated video games. My brother was so out of touch with reality, the notion scared me.

“Sit your ass down,” I said, ripping the tangled web of cables from the wall.

“Go to hell!”

Our furious gazes clashed like two volcanos. My brother clearly hated me. I had no idea why. I just knew he did from the blank look in his eyes.

“Sit down, Ashton.” I stood in the middle of his room, pissed, his Xbox in my hands. My mind was racing a thousand miles a second, trying to latch on to the right words.

“You don’t live here anymore. You can’t come into my room and take my shit!”

“I can. And I will. Because I’m the one who’ll end up paying for your citation. End of story. Now sit down. I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen.”

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