We started with full plates and left with full plates. Our stomach's growled, but it didn't seem to matter. Breakfast with Nick had gone okay. The night had been fun. No, the night had been amazing. When I looked at food I thought about what the other girls at the club must have though, over-weight, fat, obese. I knew I wasn't thin. But I wasn't supposed to be thinking things like that. Insecurities were for girls, women, and gays.

Nick pulled the Jaguar into my drive way. I looked up at the door, framed by ivory white pillars. The door, it looked so small, almost lonesome. I wanted to ask Nick to stay, but he needed his sleep. His friends would be calling in a couple hours, begging for him to make an appearance where ever they may be. There were always other things for Nick. Me, I had nothing but the empty house. Even Gretchen had the day off. There was nothing there for me.

"Can I come to your house?" I asked Nick, who was gazing out the driver's side window. There was nothing to see but grass, a few trees imported from China and off in the distance a stone wall. His attention was captured it seemed.

"My parents will be mad."

"But they won't be mad that you were out all night?"

"There's some things you don't know, Bry. I have to go home now," he told me. His voice was just as distant as the look in his eyes. Trying not to disturb him any further, I eased myself out of the car and shut the door softly, using both hands to lessen the impact. Before I could even wave, Nick drove away, speeding out of sight.

Once in the house, I headed toward the kitchen, thinking about some water and a nap. I chugged down one glass and went for another. My head pounded from exhaustion. My eyes were heavy and dry, making it uncomfortable to look at anything for too long.

"Ex or alcohol?" There was a familiar laugh from behind me. Spinning around on my heels I came to face my sister, Kiera. Her eyes seemed to be sparkling at me. Her face was freckled, weather, unlike it had been before. Her hair was tangled into dreadlocks and much lighter than I remembered. All the excess weight she had before she'd left was gone. She looked amazing. Nothing like the sister I'd known for so long, but beautiful. More beautiful than I would have thought.

"Look at you. I hated kids like you in school!" Kiera grabbed hold of me, squeezing me so tight. I didn't want her to let me go, even if I was gasping for air.

"Why are you here, Kiera?" I asked, burying my face in to her neck. She smelled of earth, sweet leaves, and smoke. Her skin was rough to the touch. I liked the way it felt.

"Its your birthday, kiddo. Why wouldn't I be here?" Her voice was full of so many sweet things I had seemed to have forgotten, such as how easy it was to smile.

"Because my birthday was yesterday." For a moment she looked confused. Her brow furrowed and she let go of me.

"Sorry. I have all my days mixed up. Do you think you can forgive me?" Her eyes were green. I wished I could have seen more of those eyes.

"Yes. You're here now. That's all that matters," I explained before letting her wrap her arms tight around me again. It was pleasant, unexpected, and one of the best presents I had received. As we collapsed onto the couch and snuggled under the blanket together she asked, "Where this time? Japan? Brazil?"

"Paris. At least that's where I told the school I was. They didn't leave a note this time," I told her, grabbing a book from the table. It was a 600 page hardcover text book on Napoleon.

"How are things going in general?" she asked, picking at the corner of the book.

"My extracurricular activities are pretty limited by my lack of friends," I explained to her. My sister was the one person I didn't feel like I had to hide from. She could understand me, no matter what I said or how I said it.

"I'm sure your intelligence makes it hard for other kids to relate to you," she told me, taking the book from me.

"Or hard for me to relate to them. 90 percent of the time I can't stand them for more than a moment. I'm an island." I groaned, not only out of frustration, but my head was still aching from lack of sleep.

"You don't have to be smart. Are the 'rents pushing you?" Kiera blamed my parents for everything. I blamed them for making her leave.

"I use unbridled intellectualism as a coping mechanism, Kiera," I explained to her. She laughed and pulled me against her chest, the text book jabbing into my stomach. The many hemp necklaces tied around her neck scrapped at my forehead. Despite the discomfort, I wanted to stay in that position forever.

"Why did you come home?" I asked, pushing my cheek against her shoulder, glazing up at her.

"It's your birthday. I told you," she told me, leaning over to mess up my hair.

"Yes, you said that, but really, why?"

"You're only sixteen once!" She was excited. Her sixteenth birthday must have been better than mine.

"I'm fifteen for three hundred and sixty-four more days." She let me go.

"You're ruining the point. So, where have you been?" The fragmented pieces of the night came back to me and I couldn't help smirking slightly.

"No where."

"No where? You're wearing girl's jeans. You smell like booze and smoke. You're pale and..." I cut her off, "I'm always pale."

"And there's a fake ID sticking out of your pocket. For someone with unbridled smarts, you're not very observant," she chuckled and stuck her feet under my legs.

"We went to the Mod Club," I explained to her.

"Ha! You went to a hipster bar?" She was doubled over laughing, clutching her sides.

"What?"

"God, kid. I hated hipsters in high school. I hated all those art fags and now my little brother is one of them. This is Karma, I tell ya," she reached over and straighted up my hair this time, winking at me. That was the end of our conversation. She talked for a little longer, but of nothing important. Slowly the conversation faded and both of us fell asleep. Her feet under my legs. My hand on hers. It was nice not to have an empty house. I wondered how long it would last.




I assumed Kiera's intentions were something other than just seeing her younger brother. I tried to, metaphorically speaking, push those thoughts from the frontal lobe to the occipital lobe. My brain had other plans, sending electric signals all over my body that she had a hidden agenda. Most of the time, I couldn't help what I was saying.

"Does mom and dad know you're here?" We were sitting on the dock, hanging our feet over, pointing our toes towards the ocean. The sun had set hours ago and everything was quiet around us, besides the sound of the water and wind.

"I don't tell them what I do," she laughed and spit another sunflower seed into the water. I watched it fall until the darkness ate it up.

"Why? Do you have something to hide?" It was starting. I wished I could take my words back, but I couldn't.

"Nope. I just..." My cell phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"Bryson, have you ever been to a party?" Nick asked me from the other end of the line. He was barely audiable. There was so much noise on his end. Music and people shouting over it.

"No."

"What?"

"No!"

"Then I'll come pick you up," Nick was shouting at me. I was angry at him for disturbing my time with my sister. Did he not know how precious those moments were to me?

"I'm not at home."

"Where are you? I'll come get you before I get too fucked up. Dude, it's awesome. So many hot people. This is where you need to be," Nick told me. Already he knew I was going to reject him. His coaxing wasn't about to work on me. Once my mind was made up, it wasn't often it switched. If I left my sister there for a party I would feel guilty, she would have a lowered opinion of her little brother and in the back of my mind I felt that if I left her for a moment she would be gone again. I knew how quick people could disappear; as if I had just blinked.

"I'm spending time with my sister. She's down for a couple days. I'll go out with you another time," I explained to him, hoping he would understand, but in the back of my head I knew he wouldn't. He loved his partying and wanted everyone to be a part of it. Well, that's how it seemed.

"You have a sister? Older or younger?"

"Six years my elder."

"Is she hot?"

"She's my sibling. I don't want to discuss this, Nick. I'll call you in a couple days," I told him, fighting the urge just to hang up. But I wouldn't. I wouldn't disappoint him.

"Alright, dude, but you're missing out on a party that could be the begining of a great social life for you." And with that he hung up. I slipped the phone back into my jacket pocket and pulled the shell of a sun flower seed open.

"You should have gone, Bry," Kiera told me, pushing the bag of seeds toward me.

"No I shouldn't have. I know what goes on at those parties," I told her, still bitter, but now for a different reason. I was missing out.

"Do you?"

"Yes. Yes, I Do."

"The way things are in real life is a lot different from movies and books, you know. They don't show the sober kids at parties. There's usually one sober kid at a party. And they don't show..." I cut her off, "Do you know why they don't show those kids? Because they don't matter. It wouldn't matter if they don't exist. Or, in this case, if they didn't go at all."

"I'm sorry I left, Bryson," Kiera sighed, staring off towards the dark horizon.

"It's not your fault. They made you leave."

"I left because I wanted to."

"Because they made it hell for you."

"Okay. I won't argue with you."

"I always win arguments," I laughed.

"That's very true. Even when you were very small. That's something I always envied about you," she fell against me and sighed loudly. I rested my head against her and she kissed it. Missing out on a party didn't seem like such a big deal.

"So who was it that just called you?" Kiera picked at the shells and let the seed fall onto her brown and yellow patch work skirt.

"Nick."

"Ooooh! And who is he?" She nudged me, playfully and winked. Slightly confused at her reaction, I replied, "A friend from school. We have English together. Although he's older than me by a year e always needs help on writing essays, but he's intelligent."

"But not as smart as you?"

"Well, no, but that's not relevant."

She smiled, "No, you're right. It's not." Already I was fearing her departure. I knew it was coming and the dread was starting to multiply, like tiny, single cell organisms. Early Prophase. Metaphase. Anaphase. Telophase. [Prepare. Duplicate. Distance self. Now, seperate.]

"What are you thinking right now?" I asked her, put in hand back into the bag. Behind us little men were closing down the ferris wheel, pulling covers over merry-go-round, shuffling about the dock in a hurry to get home.

"I'm thinking about home," she told me in a whisper.

"We can go back if you'd like."

"No. I mean my home; B.C. Canada. This isn't my home, Bry. This isn't my home." Her voice was sad, longing. It crushed me.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, little brother," Kiera leaned her head against mine, messing up my hair. I wanted her to stay forever. This moment wasn't allowed to end. She wasn't allowed to leave me alone. But she always did things on her own terms. It didn't matter what was allowed.

"Yeah." We sat there for a long time until our legs ached from dangling towards the ocean and our backs from sitting straight for so long.