Forest Through the Trees

Chapter 1 (Willow)

Music, if you can call it that, booms from the room next to mine, disturbing my inner “ZEN”. Nothing but a thin wall separates my brother's room from mine, and Slipknot is definitely not something you listen to when you are trying to unwind.

Don’t get me wrong, I can totally get behind the whole teenage angst scene. However, I usually take out my frustration on my poor, exhausted sketchbook, versus vandalism, screamo, and perpetual moodiness.

But to each their own.

Kaleb, on the other hand, is going through what my shrink would call the classic teen rebellious faze. Expressing his inner rage in typical teenage ways.

It's practically textbook.

Which is why I know it’s a load. He may be able to fool everyone else, but I know him too well to buy it.

I, however, am considered abnormal because I don’t want to start fires and break things to express my inner turmoil, and I refuse to pretend that I'm normal if it means acting like that.

In truth, Kaleb and I are pretty close. Closer than normal brothers and sisters are, or so I am told. We are just over nine months apart in age. What we are is called "Irish Twins" and we have always done everything together. This is why I know that his little angst display is just that.

A show.

And also why he is the one with the brains, and I’m the one with the therapist.

It helps that I am a fantastic sister. Understanding and tolerant...

Most of the time.

But today is not one of those days.

Reaching up, I pound on the wall behind the head of my bed and yell “TURN IT DOWN! Butthead”

Five seconds later, the volume increases.

Oh, it's on.

I toss my sketchbook to the side, not caring that the pages sprawl and crease, it’s only my doodle book anyway, and I cross the hall to his room.

The door is closed but not locked because we aren’t allowed to have locks on our doors. My mother says it's a "trust thing". “I trust that you’re not doing drugs and having s*x, and you trust that I’m not snooping through your things". Like that is totally mutually beneficial. And yet, she has a lock on her door. Because adults need their privacy, and children should be willing to share everything. The irony of her parenting is hilarious, especially considering how recently she has managed to turn her own life around.

Is she the worst parent in the world?

No.

Is she an absentee twiddle brain who gets lost in a “creative fever” and forgets her kids exist for days and sometimes weeks on end?

Yes.

The truth is she only recently started taking an interest in being a parent of any kind. Let me tell you, it's not easy being the child of a single parent. The trouble doubles when that parent also ends up being half mental. But we don’t call it that. For her, it’s just the quirks that come from being a creative genius. Because in her mind she is the undiscovered DaVinci of our time.

Yeah… and I’m the crazy one. Maybe it runs in the family.

But I am almost at the point where I miss the way she used to be. At least when she forgot we were alive she wasn't going all mother dearest and needing to know every detail of our lives. And the ability to come and go as I pleased was heaven. Not that I have anywhere to go now anyway, but my wings have been clipped nonetheless.

I swing Kaleb’s door open with an exaggerated thwack. It dings off the wall and nearly takes me out in the recoil, but he pretends not to notice. Eyes locked on a book. He is sprawled out on his bed across the room. One arm under his head and the other death gripping a well-loved copy of Moby d**k above his head.

LAME!

I walk over to his desk and unplug his speakers, silencing the noise.

That's right, I called it noise. Deal with it.

“Leave.” He says with a sigh, not bothering to look up from his book.

“Make me.”

With a huff, he turns over showing me his back. Not giving me the satisfaction of putting up a good fight which is exactly what I am looking for and he knows it.

Damn, that’s it? Where’s the fire? I’ll have to try harder.

One thing I do have is a good long game.

It takes an expert to annoy someone as much as my brother annoys me, but I am willing to put in the work.

I sit down at his desk, spinning a few circles in his chair before I begin to rifle through his things.

Everything is neat. Too neat. It is completely unnatural for a teenager to keep his room as clean as Kaleb keeps his. Everything has its place. Even the crap in his drawers is organized.

Yet another way we are exact opposites. He is a neat freak. And me? Well, let’s just say I have to hip-check the side of my desk when I want to open a drawer. It’s THAT crammed with s**t.

I am about to give up. There is nothing in this room that says anything about who my brother really is. Floor to ceiling, it’s just a boring old room. No posters, pictures, or art. I probably wouldn’t find so much as a nudie mag if I tore the whole place apart.

Nothing. Meaning no weapons for me to exploit and embarrass him with. Why does he have to make my job so difficult?

“If you are done messing with my stuff you can leave now.”

His cocky victorious tone makes me want to grind my teeth.

“I’m bored. Entertain me.” I pout, even pursing my lips because I know he hates it.

“Hello board, I’m busy. Now buzz off.”

What a tool.

My brother doesn’t swear. At least not normally. Because that would be another thing that normal teenagers do, and hence, why I find it my duty to make him swear as frequently as possible. What kind of sister would I be if I let my brother turn into a freak?

Besides, we have enough of those in our family already.

I am shooting daggers into his back as I flop down, throwing my weight onto the end of the bed hoping the bouncing will disturb him. But he just shifts farther away from me and his eyes still don’t leave the book.

When he flips the page, that is when I see it. There is a picture in the book he is reading. It looks like one of those small, square ones that you get from a photo booth. I can just see the corner sticking out from the top. He must be using it as a bookmark.

BINGO! The target is locked, I have found my ammo.

I wait till he turns the next page, figuring if his hands are busy he won't be able to stop me fast enough.

It works.

Like lightning, I snatch the picture and book it to the door. But he's faster. In an instant he has me. Snagging my wrist before I can even make it off the bed, griping tight as his other hand comes in to snatch the photo away from me.

“Damn it, Will, what is your problem?” He growls.

FINALLY! I inwardly smile, he clearly doesn’t want me to see this picture, so I really, REALLY need to see it. He could easily overpower me.

But I'm wily.

I grab the picture from my own hand with the other before he can snatch it back.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” I smirk over my shoulder at him.

What DO we have here? I blink at the picture.

It’s of Kaleb and some girl. She is sitting on my brother's lap and they are all cuddled up looking all cute and s**t.

BARF!

“Umm, Eww,” I remark as he nearly rips my arm off tearing the picture away from me.

I’m slightly disappointed. Not exactly something incriminating like I was hoping for, but it clearly pisses him off that I have seen it, so I’ll take what I can get.

He is in a huff now. Shoving the picture back into his book, he stalks over to the bookshelf, placing it as high up as his 5'11 stature can manage and well beyond my 5’4 reach.

He turns to me with just a hint of anger in his eyes, holding his arms out dramatically.

“What?” He shakes his head. “You have my attention now, so what do you want?”

I can’t hide a smile.

I win, I win ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

The thing with Kaleb is that he doesn’t get mad. Like ever. Not when he stubs his toe, not when he drops his coffee, not even when someone is treating him like s**t and he has every right to be mad.

Never.

He isn’t even really mad now. He just knows that it is the reaction I want, and he is choosing to give in to me.

I know that. But a win is a win, damn it!

My brother is Mr. Perfect. He gets the brains, self-control, mental health, and now, apparently, the girls as well.

I suppose having all the talent and beauty is enough of a cross for me to bear. I mean it would be cruel to leave him with nothing.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. She’s pretty cute. You are definitely dating up.”

He shakes his head and flops down in his desk chair dramatically. Spinning it until he is no longer facing me.

“Can you please just stop?” he sighs, leaning back in his seat.

“I am just going to keep bugging, so you might as well just spill already.”

He sighs again, looking deflated. “There is nothing to tell. Yes, she was my girlfriend... Kind of.”

Ugh, I like annoying my brother to the point of rage, but I hate the idea of someone hurting him that isn't me.

Or at the very least approved by me.

“She dumped you?"

“Wow! Of course, that is your first assumption. Jesus Willow!"

And clearly, it's a touchy subject.

"Well, OK then... Sorry". I put up my hands in fake surrender "Why did YOU break up with HER?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because it’s my job!" I feign being offended. "Who else is going to care enough to harass you about your love life? The Hippy?” The hippy is a term of endearment we use for our mother. It fits surprisingly well. "Not to mention I am currently living vicariously through you and NEED the drama like an addict needs a fix".

“Well, find yourself another source for entertainment because I am not talking about this with you. And have you ever considered how twisted it is that you are so interested in my personal life?”

“Wow. You are NOT that interesting, so don’t flatter yourself. I’m just saying if you want to get something off your chest you can talk to me. It is clearly bothering you. But whatever.” I shrug.

“Right. Because YOU can help ME. We moved here BECAUSE of you. We broke up because we moved. And just because you are crazy and have to see a psychologist doesn’t mean you can turn it around and act like you know ANYTHING about what is going on with me.”

My jaw falls open.

I have never heard Kaleb speak to anyone like that before. Especially me. It is just not in his nature. I didn’t realize that he felt that way or that he was hurting because of me. Inadvertently or not, I still never want to be the cause of his pain and I feel terrible.

I open my mouth to try and find something to say but I need to swallow past my shock first.

"God Will, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean... I mean I shouldn't have....” He fumbles over his words.

I give a small laugh. “Shouldn't have thrown how crazy I am back in my face?"

"You know I don't see you like that, no one does".

I can't help but laugh, but there is no humor behind it, "Right of course they don't. So, now I am crazy AND stupid?" I shake my head. "I hate the way people treat me. Like I am glass and going to shatter if you don’t tiptoe around me. This is the first time you have said anything real to me in months".

Kaleb says nothing. Just watches me like he is trying to figure me out.

Good luck. Even a trained professional can't do that.

I sigh. "Look, Kaleb... I know that the move was my fault. I shouldn't have sided with the hippy when she suggested coming here. I just..." I take a steadying breath. "I just needed to get away from there. It was just too much, and I jumped when I saw the chance to get away from... everyone. But if I am being honest, I didn’t even think about how it might affect you and what you would be leaving behind. I only saw what I wanted at the moment and, believe me, I regret it now. So... I'm sorry.”

He nods, looking down at his hands.

For a moment he says nothing and just takes in what I said, but slowly a smirk creeps to his lips.

"She was just..." he pauses and looks up with a devilish grin. "So HOT."

I roll my eyes.

"I mean I could have been with THAT all summer..." He gets up, dropping an arm around me. He knows how much I hate when he puts on the fuckboy act. "I could be getting lucky. Right. Now." It seriously makes me want to retch.

Kaleb ruffles my hair before I push him off and punch him as hard as I can in the arm.

"You are still you, remember? So I wouldn't be so sure of that."

"I'll have you know I was doing well with her."

"Riiight, well, clearly you need to cool off. Let's go down to the docks for some ice cream."

"One more time before hell starts tomorrow?"

"Ugh School, I had almost forgotten. In that case, I am going to need a double scoop."

That is definitely something I am dreading. Is there anything worse than starting a new school? Well, I guess walking into one where everyone thinks you are a nut job is worse, so I really can't complain too much.

"I am just going to grab my jacket and camera," I say, walking out. "Oh and don't forget your wallet. It's your treat."

"What else is new?" he mutters.