Chapter 9: Brothers
1210 Words
Owen had stopped thinking about the Parker house as somewhere he lived.
It was home.
He knew which cupboard held the cereal. He knew Mrs. Parker hated wet towels on the bathroom floor. He knew Ethan would leave his shoes in the middle of the hallway no matter how many times he was told not to.
And he knew Riley would steal food from his plate if he wasn’t paying attention.
That afternoon, she reached across the dining table.
Owen moved his plate away.
“No.”
Riley stared at him.
“Give me one.”
“You already have yours.”
“I want yours.”
“You always want mine.”
“Because yours tastes better.”
Ethan looked up from his homework.
“That’s because she thinks everything tastes better when it belongs to someone else.”
Riley kicked him under the table.
“Ow!”
Owen laughed.
“You deserved that.”
Ethan pointed at him.
“Whose side are you on?”
“Ours.”
Riley smiled.
Ethan shook his head.
“Both of you are impossible.”
Mrs. Parker walked in carrying folded laundry.
“What’s impossible?”
“Nothing,” all three answered.
She stopped.
“That’s usually when something is happening.”
Riley laughed.
Later that evening, Ethan and Owen were outside practicing football.
Riley sat on the porch steps, watching.
Ethan kicked the ball too hard.
It flew over the fence.
“Seriously?” Owen said.
Ethan groaned.
“I’ll get it.”
He climbed onto the low wall beside the fence.
“Ethan, don’t,” Owen warned.
“I’ve done this before.”
The moment he jumped down, his foot landed badly.
He stumbled.
Owen dropped the ball he was holding and ran over.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
Ethan tried to stand properly.
Then he winced.
Owen noticed.
“Your ankle.”
“It’s fine.”
“You’re limping.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Owen crouched.
“Get on.”
Ethan stared at him.
“What?”
“I’ll carry you.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Get on.”
Ethan hesitated.
Then he climbed onto Owen’s back.
Riley immediately jumped up.
“Wait! I’m coming too.”
“No,” Ethan said.
“Why?”
“Because you’ll make it worse.”
Riley followed them anyway.
When they reached the house, Mrs. Parker rushed over.
“What happened?”
“He fell,” Owen said.
“I didn’t fall,” Ethan argued. “I landed badly.”
Mrs. Parker looked at his ankle.
“You’re staying off that foot tonight.”
Ethan sighed.
Owen helped him to the couch.
Riley brought an ice pack.
For the next hour, Owen stayed beside Ethan, making sure he had everything he needed.
Ethan watched him quietly.
When their parents went into the kitchen, he spoke.
“You didn’t have to carry me.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?”
Owen shrugged.
“Because you’re my brother.”
Ethan looked at him.
Owen seemed almost surprised by his own words.
Brother.
He had heard it before.
Mrs. Parker called them her boys.
Mr. Parker called them his sons.
Teachers often referred to them as brothers.
But this was different.
Ethan smiled.
“You know you’re stuck with me, right?”
Owen laughed.
“Unfortunately.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
Ethan held out his fist.
Owen bumped it.
From the doorway, Riley watched them.
She smiled.
The three of them had grown up together.
But that evening, something between Ethan and Owen settled into place.
Not friendship.
Not obligation.
Something stronger.
They were brothers.
And neither of them needed the same blood to know it.
By Monday, Ethan’s ankle was better.
Not completely, but enough for him to complain about being treated like an invalid.
“I can walk.”
Mrs. Parker glanced at him over her coffee.
“You’re limping.”
“Barely.”
“You’re still not playing football.”
Ethan dropped his head onto the breakfast table.
“This family is against me.”
Riley smiled into her cereal.
“Maybe stop trying to climb fences.”
“I wasn’t climbing.”
“You were definitely climbing.”
Owen laughed.
Ethan looked at him.
“You’re enjoying this too much.”
“A little.”
They left for school together.
Ethan walked between Riley and Owen, his backpack hanging from one shoulder.
At the gate, a group of boys from their class called Owen over.
“Come on, Owen. We’re playing after school.”
Owen glanced at Ethan.
Ethan waved him off.
“Go.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Riley looked between them.
“You two are weird.”
“How?” Ethan asked.
“You always check with each other.”
Owen shrugged.
“We’re brothers.”
The word came naturally this time.
Ethan smiled.
Riley noticed.
She didn’t say anything.
After school, Ethan waited near the gate while Riley finished talking to her teacher.
A boy approached him.
“You’re Ethan, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Your sister’s Riley?”
Ethan’s expression changed slightly.
“Yeah. Why?”
The boy shrugged.
“She seems nice.”
“She is.”
“I was thinking of asking her to hang out sometime.”
Ethan stared at him.
“No.”
The boy frowned.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you answer?”
“Because she’s my sister.”
Owen, who had just walked up, heard the last part.
He looked at Ethan.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
The boy glanced at Owen.
“Whatever.”
He walked away.
Owen waited until he was gone.
“You’re going to have problems when Riley gets older.”
Ethan frowned.
“She doesn’t need boys bothering her.”
“She can decide that herself.”
Ethan looked at him.
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am.”
“Then agree with me.”
Owen shook his head.
“That isn’t how being on your side works.”
Ethan laughed.
“Since when did you become wise?”
“Since I met you.”
They both laughed.
Riley finally came out.
“What are you laughing about?”
“Nothing,” Ethan said.
She looked at Owen.
“You?”
“Nothing.”
Riley narrowed her eyes.
“You’re both terrible liars.”
They started walking home.
Halfway there, Ethan threw his arm around Owen’s shoulders.
“Come on, brother.”
Owen smiled.
Riley walked beside them, shaking her head.
“You two are ridiculous.”
Neither of them disagreed.
For Ethan and Owen, brotherhood wasn’t something they had to explain anymore.
It was in the way they looked out for each other.
The arguments.
The jokes.
The loyalty.
And the simple certainty that if one of them needed the other, he would show up.
Riley watched them from beside them.
She had spent her whole life believing Ethan and Owen were simply the two boys who were always there.
She didn’t yet understand that, somewhere along the way, they had become something much harder to separate.
Brothers.
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