Episode15
1017 Words
KATHLEEN'S P.O.V.
Marcus insists on picking me up the next afternoon, despite my protests.
"I can take the bus," I tell him over the phone, trying on a jacket. "It's really not that much of a big deal, honestly."
"Absolutely not," he replies, with the sound of a door slamming shut in the background, followed by the screeching of tyres. "I haven't seen my little sister in months. I'm not letting you take the bus when I have a perfectly functioning car."
I roll my eyes, smiling despite myself. "You always love exaggerating."
"And you always underestimate how much I worry about you," he shoots back.
True to his word, he pulls up outside my apartment about an hour later. I watch from my window as he leans casually against the driver's side with his arms crossed. The sight of him-taller than I remembered, broader too-makes something warm flutter in my chest. He was here.
Hurriedly, I look around one last time to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything and take one last look in the mirror before stepping out of my apartment.
"Wow," I mutter as I approach. "When did you get so huge?"
He grins, pulling me into a hug that nearly lifts me off my feet. "I know, right? It does pull the ladies." He winks, and I shoot him a disgusted look, my face scrunching.
"Oh please, don't give me that look. And besides, look at you." His eyes scan me from head to toe, an affectionate look in his eyes. "You look different, a good kind of different."
I smile softly but shyly, my palms slipping into the background pockets of my jeans as I look away, towards the streets. "Yeah, well, it's been a long time since we last saw each other.
From the corner of my eyes, I watch him nod, a sad smile pulling across his lips.
The air grows slightly tense, which makes me uncomfortable; needing to break the tension, I say, "You changed your cologne; I prefer the last one. This one smells horrible." I make a mock throw-up face, which causes him to smile.
"Rude," he says, in mock offence, playing along. "This is expensive cologne."
"Still smells horrible."
He chuckles, opening the passenger door for me. "Where to?"
"I don't know," I admit. "Somewhere nice and casual, nothing fancy."
He nods. "I know just the place."
We end up at a small diner tucked between a laundromat and a closed-down bookshop. It's quiet, warm and welcoming, smelling strongly of coffee whilst giving off a homely vibe.
Once we're seated, Marcus studies me as we look over the menu.
"What?" I ask, frowning.
"You've lost weight."
I stiffen. "I've been stressed."
"Too stressed; you look exhausted," he adds gently.
I sigh, folding my menu. "You didn't call for months, Marcus."
His jaw tightens. "I know."
"That hurt," I admit quietly. "I thought you were mad at me.... I thought you were done with me."
He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't, Kat, I promise. I was just... overwhelmed. Work's been hell. Dad's been on my case. I didn't want to dump all that on you."
"You don't get to decide that," I say softly. "I'm your sister."
"I know." He meets my eyes. "And I'm sorry."
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest ache. I nod, letting it go.
"So," he says, clearing his throat. "How's school?"
"It's fine," I reply. "You know, the usual. Busy, mortifyingly exhausting, and sometimes annoying."
He snorts. "Sounds about right."
"And you?" I ask. "Still pretending you have your life together?"
"Every day," he deadpans. "It's a full-time job."
Our food arrives, and for a while, we eat in comfortable silence.
Then he asks, "Are you okay, Kat? Like... really okay?"
I pause, fork hovering mid-air.
"I don't know," I admit. "Some days I feel fine, like I have everything under control. Other days, I feel like I'm constantly having to bear the weight of the world. It's tiring." I mutter, my words fading out as I stir my lemonade with the straw.
He frowns. "Is someone bothering you?" I detect his protective big brother tone.
"No," I say quickly. Too quickly. "Not really. I think I'm just... still trying to adjust."
He watches me closely but doesn't push. "You always were too nice for your own good." He was referring to my relationship with Landon.
"And you were always the dramatic, protective big brother," I counter.
"Damn right." He smirks.
After lunch, we walk aimlessly through the street, Marcus matching his pace to mine. He tells me about work, about a colleague he can't stand, and about how Dad's been pestering him to settle down.
"Settle down? With whom?" I tease. "The gym?" Marcus loved the gym.
"Hey," he protests. "The gym has been very loyal to me; we have a very special relationship, if you must know."
We stop at a small park, sitting on a bench beneath a tree shedding wilted leaves.
"I'm glad you called," I say quietly.
He nudges my shoulder. "I won't disappear on you again." He promises.
"You better not."
"I mean it." I believe him; Marcus always kept to his word.
When he drops me off later, he squeezes my hand before letting go. "Call me if you need anything, okay? Anything at all."
"I will," I promise.
As I head upstairs, I realise something strange.
For the first time in days, my chest doesn't feel tight. I don't have any fear; in fact, I had forgotten what had happened the past few days.
And yet, as comforting as today was, Marcus's presence had been nothing short of a welcome break from my chaotic life. As I prepared for bed, my mind wandered back to my problems, back to reality.
I shook the thoughts away; today has begun on a good note and would end that way. I could go back to worrying tomorrow.
But, even as sleep blanketed me, I found myself unable to stop thinking about the message in my phone from my very hot professor.
- Writer
