Page 13 of Past

"Answer your damn phone," I mutter to myself as Tristan doesn't answer my fourth call today. I said to Dad that I would check on him. I'm driving over to see him as it’s just easier. I know focusing on my brother is my way of forgetting what happened yesterday. Elliot’s demanding kiss is seared into my head, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve heard of people having chemistry, I’ve read about it lots in my smutty books, but I didn’t realise what it was really like to be kissed like that.

I grab my keys and walk to my car before making the long drive back to my old home.I love my new Hummer; its red, and my dad bought it for me after I crashed my last two cars. I really didn’t see the telephone pole the second time, and I’m lucky I didn’t get hurt. No one will ride with me anymore. I really don’t understand why. An asshole beeps at me while I’m driving nicely down an empty lane. I glance at my speed and see I’m going a little too fast. Ah well, I haven’t crashed this one in the last few months. My dad said it’s the safest car for me.

I pull up at my old home where Tristan lives alone now. I don’t know why he doesn’t move, he has the same inheritance I have, and it’s enough to buy a few apartments or houses around here. The cottage is very old with its grey stone and thatched roof. It has two levels and a newer garage built near it. It looks homely from the outside but, honestly, it never felt like home to me. I notice a black jeep, which I don't recognise, in the driveway next to Tristan’s car. Maybe he has a friend over and that’s why he hasn’t been answering me.

I unlock the door with my key, wondering why it's locked if he has someone over. I quickly walk into the lounge and scream at the sight of Lily fucking my brother on the couch.

"Oh my fucking god, I wish I didn't see that. My mind will never recover. I need something fucking strong to drink. Holy cows, the image is burning me," I say loudly and walk into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water to stop myself from being sick. There are images you never want in your head, and this is one of them.

"Sorry, Al. I wasn't expecting you to come home," my brother, Tristan, says as he comes into the kitchen and pulls a top on. A moment later, Lily comes in, sitting by him in a red dress that shows too much.

"How long has this been going on?" I ask, glaring at Lily, who shrugs, wrapping an arm around my brother.

"A while. Look, it's serious, and I was going to tell you," Tristan says with a grin.

Holy cow, he looks so happy that I don't want to say this. "So when I interrupted you trying to sleep with Elliot last night, you were serious with my brother?" I ask Lily, who turns redder than her dress.

"What? You said you would never go back to him. Fucking hell, Lily, we have been dating for a year,"Tristan shouts and moves away from her. She grabs onto his arm, shaking her head.

"While she was dating Elliot? Are you crazy, Tris?" I shout at him. He pulls his arm away from Lily, giving his back to her.

"Get out, Lily,"Tris says, looking at me. I want to tell him how much of an idiot he is being, but I don’t when I see how upset he is. I know how close he was to Lily, but I never thought it was anything other than friendship. I should have known better.

"No, I love you. Last night, I was just drunk," Lily says, throwing herself at Tristan’s back and trying to turn him.

"She wasn't,” I tell Tris. I’m not having this shit anymore.

“My brother asked you to leave, Lily." I walk over to her, pushing my brother behind me.

"It's always you ruining everything. First me and Elliot, now my relationship with Tristan. Why can't you go away?" she shouts at me.

She comes to stand right in front of me and I brace myself as she slaps me, knocking my head to the side. I taste blood in my mouth, and I grab her hand the second time she tries to hit me and push her away.

"Don’t try that again, Lily. What happened was your fault, not mine. We used to be friends, and I don’t know what the hell happened to you,"I tell her as she starts crying. The part of me that used to be friends with her wants to hug her, and the other part wants to hit her over the head for hurting Tris. There might even be a tiny bit of me that wants to hate her for what she did to Elliot. I don’t know much about their relationship, but no one should be cheated on. That was uncalled for.

"Get out," Tristan says, coming to stand next to me. I see the tears in his eyes, and I grab his hand, which tightens around mine.

"Fine, your loss," she mutters, throwing her hair over her shoulder and slamming the door on the way out.

"I'm sorry," I say, glancing over at my brother as he opens one of the kitchen cupboards and brings out a bottle of Jack Daniels. I watch as he pours himself a large drink before downing it in one go.

My brother’s black hair is curly and very much unlike my own blond hair. He is covered in tattoos, which peek out from beneath his clothes, and he is a lot taller than me. His right eyebrow and lip are pierced also. He plays rugby for the local team, and it’s good for his anger, I think. The one thing we have in common are our blue eyes; both our parents have blue eyes, but mine and Tris’ look more like our mother’s. Well, from the few times I’ve seen her over the years.

"Want one?" he asks, and I nod at him. I know I can't leave him alone tonight, so I might as well join him.I could use one to forget yesterday and today. Fuck, Elliot King is messing with my head like he always has.

We don’t talk as he drinks more and more until I’m sure he has drank half the bottle. I’m still drinking my second drink, and I can’t drink more because I’m worried about him.

"Hey, little brother, let's get you up to bed," I say, noticing how he can’t hold his head up.

"You’re not my mum; in fact, you’re nothing like her. Maybe you are, maybe you will leave me too. Like everyone fucking does," he says, and I flinch at his words.

We don't speak about our mother, ever, since she left us with the last nanny at ten, and our dad will even walk out if I mention her. The last we spoke, I was thirteen and she was in Paris. There wasn't much chatting other than her telling me about the new shoes she bought the other day. I don’t know what happened to her, and why she won't come here. I found pictures of us as kids with Mum, and she was smiling. The pictures stopped when we were seven, and I can’t remember why.

"That's a good thing, and I’m not going anywhere, Tris," I say, trying to pull him up, but my brother is huge. I end up on the sofa next to him as he takes another drink.

"Everything good is bad in this family. The girl I've loved since I was twelve is a whore, and Dad is in a load of crap, which I don't want anything to do with,"he mumbles, but I hear every word.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, pushing his curly, black hair out of his face.

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