The Little Of Oz Series

#Chapter7-02

#Chapter7-02

He claimed that he was a picture of perfection and it was all good. A roll of the eyes had been my response. Physically, Isaac was right. He was fit as a fiddle, having been involved in a lot of school sport, and he and Blake had some religious little gym routine. It meant that he had the kind of body that I had to use a pen to draw on abs, and filters to even come close to having, but just because he looked good, didn't mean that the stuff wasn't rotting his insides.

After fixing up a healthy snack of Barney Bears with a whipped cream crown, I made my way back to the table, slowly munching away, alternating between sipping on my monkey smoothie. I was nearly done when my mom made her way into the kitchen. Hair scraped back into a loose bun, and still in her pyjamas, despite it being noon, I knew that she hadn't gotten as much sleep as she needed, having gotten in off a night shift. The postman had woken her up, knocking real loud because she had to sign for a package. Isaac had still been asleep, because he was lazy, and the door had scared me, so I had cowered and kept still, hoping that if I barely breathed, he would go away.

I had felt guilty afterwards. I had tried to make her a coffee afterwards to say sorry, and I had burnt my pinkie. Sometimes, I think life conspired against me to make everything difficult for me.

"Ozzy," she said with a heavy sigh as her tired eyes, the same bright blue that she had selfishly given to Isaac and not me, flicked over my handiwork. "You were supposed to cut the grass. Not destroy it."

I glanced behind me.

Destroy it? I had put soooo much effort into it!

"I did cut it."

"Not evenly. You've left patches and zigzags. You're supposed to go in lines."

I frowned. There were rules for cutting grass? "You never told me that."

"I shouldn't have to," she said, pulling a chair out at the opposite end of the table. "You're not a child anymore."

"I did my best," I said in a small voice, hating that I had still managed to let her down, even though I had tried super hard. Sunlight met her face, momentarily eclipsing the tiredness, highlighting the sweet beauty that was hidden beneath. "I hurt my knee and my elly-bows." I lifted my arm so that she could see the scuffed patch of skin.

"What am I going to do with you?"

Unsure if that was a rhetorical question or not, I stayed silent. It must have been because she didn't follow it on, getting up to fix herself a coffee before she made her way back to where she had been sitting.

"Do you have any plans this summer, Ozzy?"

"I was gonna make a new Sim's family so I gots lottsa cool neighbours," I admitted.

If the expression that had her eyes rolling was anything to go by, that was not the answer that she wanted. "You're nearly eighteen, Oz."

"So?" I asked. Every year I was nearly a different age. It changed every year, so I suppose that kept it interesting, but it had never really been important to her before what age I 'nearly was'.

"So, it's time to start thinking about your future. I know you struggle to talk to new people, and I know you find a lot of things scary, but you need to stop letting it hold you back. Isaac is eighteen. He's going away today for a training course because he's thinking about his future and what he wants to do with it now that he's graduated. I need you to start doing the same."

"But I still have a year left until I have to worry," I responded. Her words caused the Barney bear I had just eaten threaten to regurgitate. Isaac's course was just some stupid extra credit crap that would look good on a CV, but it was a two-week thing, which meant that I had to suffer all by myself whilst he was gone. He had told me a few weeks back, but I had forgotten.

Or refused to accept it. I wasn't sure I would have been able to cope without him.

"A year passes fast, Oz. Before you know it, it will be this time again, and you'll be just as lost as you are now. Just maybe think about joining some clubs, or getting a job."

"Clubs?"

She nodded. "You need friends, sweetie. I'm so grateful for how close you and Isaac are but you depend on him far too much. He can't always be around. He's not going around much longer. He's growing up. He's going to want his own house. He's got a girlfriend. What if one day they decide they want kids? That won't leave a lot of time for you, baby."

I made a face. I didn't like Isaac's girlfriend, Delilah. Not just because she stole my brother's attention— which actually played a big part in it— but because she seemed mean. She smiled nice, but it had always seemed fake.

"Isaac said he would always be there for me," I mumbled. When it came to his promises to me, even if he broke them to mom and dad all the time, he always kept them. Him not being around when I needed him had never even been an entertained thought.

"Hey, I'm not saying that to upset you, Oz. I'm just trying to prepare you, okay?" She stood, placing a lingering kiss on my forehead. "It's time to start thinking about you, Ozzy, and what you want for your future."

My future?

The scary part was, beyond what my life was now, I had never given it any thought. And with the sudden dawning that Isaac may not be a full-time occupation in it, the future suddenly seemed even more daunting than it had before.

...

Twice the size of my room, Isaac's was also twice as messy. It was a dark, boyish pit of despair. The windows were covered by thick drapes that were rarely opened, and clothes littered the floor, clean and dirty alike, half spilling out of his drawers. The only visible carpet was around his bed, where I often ended up dragging in my blankets and pillow, sleeping there after a bad dream.

He was the best big brother like that. He didn't scream at me to get out of his room, or mock me and call me a baby. Instead, if he woke when I crept in, he would toss me an extra pillow, or check that I was okay.

It was just one of the things that made him awesome and irreplaceable.

"I wouldn't worry, Oz," Isaac said as he picked up one of the shirts off his floor, giving it a quick sniff before deeming it worthy, and shoving it into the duffle bag that sat next to me on his bedspread. His room was big enough to have a double bed, and it was so comfortable that even though I loved my room, sometimes I wished I had his. "I'll be back before you know it, and once I have a job, it will be pizza for dinner every day."

His grin was supposed to be reassuring, but it only made me sad. Two weeks without him? I think that would have been the longest we'd ever been apart.