Please Don't Go

“I swear to God, if you can’t or won’t answer this question I’m going to smack you upside the head.”
Though now that I’d warned him, I wouldn’t have the element of surprise, meaning he’d see it coming and duck. At least I was certain he wouldn’t try to hit me back, despite the venomous glare he was levelling me with that said otherwise.
“I think even I can tell you my name,” Tyson said irritably across the table from me. “Not that you don’t already know it.”
I scoffed at him, ignoring the lazy butterflies in my stomach that seemed to deploy whenever he was close by, and shifted in the rigid wooden chair I was occupying. You’d think that at a library they’d at least have comfy chairs to entice people with. But no, Clearview’s library budget only stretched as far as necessities, not luxuries. And they wondered why the majority of students avoided it like the plague. Though in all fairness a large part of that could be due to the head librarian, Ms. Evans. The old bat had a tendency to hover over you while you worked, practically breathing down your neck waiting for you to break one of her golden rules. She’d only just shuffled on from eyeing Tyson and I like a hawk after it’s prey, probably off to harass the trio of freshman girls who’d come in and headed straight for the magazine rack down the far end.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said sarcastically, watching as the old biddy veered right and walked out of my line of sight. “You appear to suffer selective amnesia whenever I pick up the list of questions.”
I shook said list with a flick of my wrist. The printed copy of questions had definitely seen better days. In my frustrated state I’d screwed it up, torn the edges to shreds, doodled over every spare inch of it. Heck, I’d done everything short of stomping on it, which I was bound to do next if he evaded such another simple question. We’d been stuck in a battle of the wills for two days now.
As promised, he’d stayed behind on Monday after school and followed me to the library, but I honestly didn’t know why he’d bothered. Or why he’d suggested we do it in the first place. I’d stupidly thought that because he’d taken the lead for once, he’d decided to open up and be helpful. Yeah, right. Naivety thy name be Noah.
We’d come in and made our way to the group study booths at the back of the library, to this same table actually, and sat down as we were sitting now with me facing one of the large windows overlooking the school field and him with his back to it. Then we’d passed the entire half hour in strained silence. He’d dragged out his chemistry homework while I’d endeavoured to identify the exact shade of blue the library walls were in a half-hearted attempt to satisfy my boredom. So far I’d narrowed it down to two possibilities: turquoise or cyan.
I had tried to get the ball rolling at the beginning, hoping to get all of the answers I needed in one go, to avoid repeating the experience. But when I’d asked him if he had any siblings, he’d scowled at me something fierce, barking, “Next Question.” Well, three “Next question” answers later, I’d taken the hint and shut my mouth, choosing instead to seethe quietly.
Half of me had been hoping he’d bail on today’s study session, but if I was learning anything, it was that he was true to his word. Even if he did regret opening his mouth in the first place.
So after World History last period he’d grudgingly followed me down to the library and here we were, no further along in our assignment but both of us closer to exploding in anger. Me at his unwillingness to share, him at my constant pestering.
Tyson gave me a disdainful glare before opening his mouth to answer, but I cut him off as a thought struck me.
“Full name,” I said again. “That includes any and all middle names.”
“No, really?” he asked, matching my earlier sarcasm with that of his own. “I never would have guessed.”
I rolled my eyes, wondering not for the fist time how I had gotten stuck with such a moody partner. No doubt God was up there in Heaven, sitting on his royal throne, on his royal a*s, head chucked back while he roared with laughter at the series of misfortunes that was my life. Still, I had determination if nothing else, and I wasn’t going to let Tyson get out of here without answering at least one question. Miss Clarke was becoming very unimpressed with the blank papers both Tyson and I were handing over for a review of progress we’d made on our case study’s. If we didn’t have anything solid soon, she was likely to sit us down and supervise our work like we were misbehaving five year olds.
“What’s your middle name?” Tyson said after a long pause. He rolled the sleeves of his tee up to his elbows.
I sighed in exasperation. “I’m asking the questions for now,” I said through clenched teeth. “You can ask yours when I’m done.”
Again silence. I rubbed my hands on the front of my shorts, praying for patience.
“Tyson Alexander Masters.”
I blinked, momentarily stunned that he’d actually answered it. Even though in terms of our case study questions it was as simple as you could get, I was still expecting more of a fight from him. Huh, maybe I was finally wearing him down. I scribbled his name down in my notebook, then scrambled to ask another question before he realised he had suddenly become accommodating.
“And your date of birth?” I asked, pen poised over paper.
His eyes narrowed. “Why do you need to know that?”
“Oh, for the love of God! Why can’t you just answer a question without asking one in return?” I hissed, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Ms. Evans had made another circuit and I could just make her out in my peripheral vision, pretending to reorganise a bookcase while eyeing us suspiciously. One of her golden rules was ‘No loud talking in the library’. If broken, the offender was asked to leave immediately and was also slapped with a three day ban from the library. One of ten ridiculous rules she’d come up with on her own, and the one that had the least severe consequence. It led me to believe that she considered dolling out punishments to be the best aspect of her job. The woman seriously needed to get a life.
Tyson considered me for a few long seconds, then shrugged. “Ask me again,” he said.
“What is your date of birth?” I repeated, this time like he was slow.
Annoyance flickered in his eyes as was my desired affect - hey, if he wasn’t going to play nice, the least I could do was enjoy baiting him. He rattled it off to me and then heaved a great sigh.
“Wow. Look outside and tell me if the sky is falling,” I said, amazed that I had gotten two small answers in one sitting.
“What?”
I cracked a grin. “You’ve given me two answers. I’m just wondering if the world is about to end because of it.”
“Oh, very funny,” he muttered, pulling a packet of smokes from his pocket to fidget with.
“I thought so,” I said, frowning as I looked down at my notebook. “You’ll be nineteen in a couple of months,” I stated, looking back up at him for confirmation.
‘Wow, she can count,” he said dryly, amusement quirking the edges of his mouth.
I ignored the jibe, too curious to care. “Why are you so old?”
Tyson raised his eyebrows at me. “You make it sound like I’m eighteen going on a hundred.”
“Did you get held back a year?” I asked, again ignoring him in the hopes of uncovering one of his many closely guarded secrets.
“Is that one of the required questions?”
“Oh, my God,” I snapped, scrunching the question sheet as I clenched my hands into fists. “Really? You’re not going to give anything up without a fight, are you?”
Tyson huffed in annoyance, throwing the pack of smokes onto the table in front of him. It skidded several inches, coming to a stop right in front of me.
“No,” he said, voice flat. “I didn’t get held back a year.” He cut me off where I sought to interrupt. “And no, I’m not a repeating senior, nor did I start school at the age of six.”
I frowned, confused. That didn’t leave many more possibilities. “Then why are you basically a year older than the rest of us?”
“Because I didn’t do my senior year last year when I was supposed to.”
“Why not?” My ever curious soul would just not let it go.
“Because I took a year off to work.”
“But wh-”
“I had my reasons,” he said, a note of finality in his voice. I scowled at him but reluctantly gave up my line of questioning.
“Back to what we’re here for. What’s your full name and date of birth?”
I shifted again, more out of agitation than discomfort. For some reason I really wanted to know the story behind why he’d taken a year off school. Sure he’d said it was to work, but I had a strong feeling there was a lot more to it than that.
I gave him my date of birth first, then hesitated. He raised his eyebrows, to which I raised my chin, almost defiantly.
“If you laugh at me, I’ll rip all out all of your hair.”
He smirked at me. “Oh, this should be good.”
Maybe for him, but I’d always despised my middle name, much the same way Riley despised his. Our parents must have been high when they decided to “bless” us with our grandparents names. Especially grandparents that had names like Eustace and Bernadette.
I cleared my throat, embarrassment already beginning to heat my cheeks. “My full name is Noah Bernadette Duke.”
Tyson blinked. Then blinked again. He whipped a hand up to cover his mouth and coughed to disguise the laughter he couldn‘t stop from escaping.
I glared at him. “Obviously you don’t like your hair,” I snapped, my fingers itching not with the urge to carry out the threat but rather to run themselves through it leisurely. I mentally slapped myself, and not for the first time today, or this week. My mind had been running rampant with all sorts of lusty thoughts about the boy in front of me. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop them from surfacing, could only stamp them down once they’d made their appearance. Stupid teenage hormones, why couldn‘t they save their happy dance for someone nicer? But Tyson is nice, my mind supplied happily. Nice eyes, nice lips, nice chest, nice - I shook the stray thoughts from my head sharply, forcing myself to concentrate on what he was saying rather than what he’d look like minus the fitting black v-neck t-shirt he was wearing.
“I’m not laughing,” he said, his hand still over his mouth.
“Yeah, whatever,” I grumbled, casting my eyes downward rather than looking at him. He wrote down the answers while I read through the list again, wondering what to ask next.
“What are your parents names?” I asked looking up at him, bracing myself for another explosion of anger. After all, he’d all but chewed my ears out the last time I’d tried to gain this particular piece of information. Tyson’s nostrils flared, and I saw the same flicker of emotion pass through his eyes now that was present when we were at Irvine’s. But just like then, it was gone before I could figure out exactly what it was, his usual stoic mask slipping into place. If I had to take a stab at it, I’d say it was something akin to fear, the same thing I’d thought when it happened last time. But why? And at what? If I was right, and not wildly off the margin, that meant he was afraid of revealing something about his family. But revealing it in general, or just revealing it to me? Either way, he had to get over it and tell me something, because I was not failing the assignment. Twenty percent of my overall grade was riding on this.
I groaned out loud, the sound a mix of pure frustration and mental exhaustion. “Seriously,” I said. “How am I going to pass the assignment if you’re not going to cooperate?”
“I don’t see you volunteering the info willingly either,” he retorted, leaning forward to snatch the packet of smokes up off the table. As he did so, a whiff of his tantalising scent swirled around my nose, making my heart sputter excitedly and my mouth water. I ignored it and leaned backwards, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.
“That’s because once I give you all the answers you need, you’ll bugger off and leave me high and dry. I’m not an idiot.” Which was only partially the reason as to why I was not forthcoming. The bigger part was that I didn’t want anyone knowing these carefully protected, private things about my life. I didn’t want to become anyone’s pity party when they found out I was an orphan. With Courtney it was different. I hadn’t received pity from her. Instead she’d mourned my loss right along with me. Of course I’d tell Tyson eventually, out of necessity, but I wouldn’t do it until he coughed up the info I needed first. After all, if he wasn’t going to play nice, I didn’t see why I had to make things easy for him.
He sighed, running a hand through his neat ponytail. “Next question.”
I glared at him, tired of his evasion tactics. Tired of his unwillingness and difficult personality. And more than a little pissed that I’d been at this stupid assignment for weeks now and had so little to show for it.
“Okay, fine,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “But you’ll answer the next one.” He knew it wasn’t a question, but nodded anyway.
“Why did you step in and save me from Aidan?” Not really one of the required questions for the case study, but maybe because it wasn’t he’d actually answer it. One could only hope. Because that question had been bugging the hell out of me lately, mostly thanks to Courtney and Ashleigh hounding me all week, determined to get me to believe that Tyson had only lost it because he had a soft spot for me. No amount of reasoning on my part would convince them otherwise. And they’d made such good arguments that I didn’t know what to think anymore. I figured the only way to know for sure was to go straight to the source and ask. And it’s not like I had anything to lose.
Tyson’s body jerked slightly like I’d slapped him. Obviously he hadn’t been prepared for this particular question.
He stared at me intently, licking his lips slowly. My eyes tracked the movement avidly and I barely caught myself before I mimicked the action. What luscious lips he had. Full and - I snapped myself out of my inappropriate thoughts and forced myself to concentrate on the matter at hand.
“Would you rather I hadn’t?” he asked quietly.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t grateful. I just wanted to know why?”
He shrugged, his piercing blue gaze never leaving mine. “I overheard two of his friends talking during lunch. Aidan was making plans to key my car. I wasn’t going to just sit by and let him do it.”
I gaped at him, not expecting such a blasé answer or a blasé attitude to go with it. “So you beat the crap out of him for something he hadn’t even done yet?”
“Do you know how much that car cost me?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice.
I rolled my eyes at him. Boys and their cars. “Must have been a hell of a lot for you to get so enraged over a potential car-keying.”
“Indeed.” He stared at me intently for several long minutes. Maybe I looked disappointed, which I was, or maybe I looked peeved - which I also was. Whatever it was, it prompted him to ask, “Why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?”
I hesitated. He obviously knew what I wanted to know, but wanted me to say it out loud. Well, two could play his little game of twenty questions.
“And what is it I really want to know?” I asked, going for an air of indifference. I mentally high fived myself at my uninterested tone.
“You want to know if I got involved because it was you he was hurting. You want to know if I would have lost it like that had it been some other chick he was pounding on.”
I licked my lips nervously, part of me wanting to know the answer, the other part wanting to remain cool and unaffected. The former won out. “And did you?” I asked. “Would you have?”
“What do you think?” he asked, his gaze boring into mine.
I huffed in aggravation. “I honestly don’t know what goes on inside that head of yours,” I snapped, disappointment giving my words a sharp edge. I’d really been hoping to get a straight answer. “Which is why I asked in the first place.”
Tyson smirked, pulling his phone out to check the time. “Well, while you ponder that, I have to get to work.” He swiped his notebook off the table and picked his bag up with his free hand. “Oh, and about the long weekend,” he said, drawing to a stop right beside me. I craned my head up to look at him and raised an eyebrow. “I applied for annual leave on Friday and found out yesterday that it was approved.”
“So?” I asked.
He gave me a droll stare. “So I’m free to come on your little trip.”
“Great. Courtney will be ecstatic.”
“And you? Aren’t you just ecstatic that I’m tagging along?” he asked dryly, the edges of his lips quirked.
I snorted, rolling my eyes at him. “Yes, I’m this close to exploding with happiness. Can’t you tell?” I said, throwing the sarcasm right back.
He cracked one his half smiles at me, his eyes glittering in amusement before heading toward the exit, brushing past Ms. Evans as he did so. Her beady eyes followed him until he left the building and then her head swivelled around to face me.
“If you’re friend has left and you’re studying alone, please move to one of the single study booths. That way you do not take up unnecessary space should a group come in looking for somewhere to study.”
I looked around at the eight other empty study booths. Yes, because we were in grave danger of running out of room. However I wasn’t stupid enough to say that out loud, so I just smiled tightly and gathered my things, heading for the exit instead of a single booth.

I almost snapped my neck letting myself into the house. As usual, Tank was sitting right in the middle of the entryway, his little tail waggling happy. A narrow sidestep was the only thing that saved him from a bloody death. He yapped at me when I gave him the evil eye, and I stepped over him so I could get into the house and shut the door. Unfortunately, when I moved, it caused him to scurry about in tight circles, and I just about did the splits in an attempt to avoid squashing him a second time. Let me just say, that I am not quite that flexible, something the now pulled muscle in my hamstring would happily attest to. I regained a standing position, rubbing the back of my leg vigorously, scowling down at the giant rat.
“One day, I’m going to walk into the house and look the other way on purpose. If you happen to be sitting under my shoe when it lands, it’ll be tough luck on your part. I’ll just leave you there and rename you Squishy.” He stopped mid circle to yap at me again and I sighed, limping forwards a few steps to dump my schoolbag on the hallway cabinet.
I frowned when I spotted three large black suitcases lined up beside it. Those were Riley’s travel bags. Usually he used two, the third one only making an appearance when he knew he’d be away for longer than a month. Given that he’d promised me there’d be no more travelling until the project in China went underway, I found the sight of them very disconcerting. Tank yapped some more but I ignored him. I pocketed my keys and stepped closer, dread consuming me as I noticed the tags. They’d been filled out, all of them written with Riley’s neat scrawl. Final destination: China. The information rattled around in my head, not really landing anywhere, not absorbing. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Maybe he’d been doing some spring cleaning and left the cases here in the meantime, the tags being from his last trip. I glanced at them again and this time an icy sensation speared my stomach. Nope, they were new tags, meaning a new trip.
Footsteps preceded my brother’s appearance at the bottom of the stairs. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and an ACDC concert shirt. Tank yapped excitedly and ran over to meet him. When Riley saw me, his steps faltered, drawing him to a stop at the kitchen doorway. I didn’t even need to ask. The look on his face said it all. He was leaving. And he wasn’t coming back for a while. Suddenly my heart ached fiercely, already anticipating the lonely nights to come, and I had to stop myself from reaching up to rub my chest. You’d think by now I would be used to Riley coming and going. And in some ways I was. But being used to it and not being affected by it were two totally different things. While he was here, my mind tricked me into forgetting the long stretches of loneliness and emptiness. Just like when he was gone, it tricked me into believing that I’d always been fine on my own. That I didn’t need anything or anyone else. It was a defensive mechanism my body had come up with to help me cope, after the first four or five times he’d gone away on trips. The only two moments I really felt anything out of the ordinary; anything real, was when he first came back from a trip and I had this insane hope that it would be the last time I’d welcome him home; that he’d stay for good - stay with me for good. The second was when he was about to leave. Like now.
I cleared my throat and forced a smile. “When are you heading out?” I asked.
I was surprised that my voice was steady when all I really wanted to do was break down and beg him not to leave me again. I was tired of being alone. I was tired of hearing my footsteps echo throughout an empty house. I wanted desperately to say as much, but held firm, not wanting to make this any harder than it had to be.
“I was just about to call a cab to take me to the airport. I got a call from China about midday,” he said, walking towards me slowly. “They want to move the production of the two branches forward and the Board have agreed. So they want me on the next flight out.” He came to a stop beside me and placed his carry on luggage on top of one of the cases.
“But you said it wouldn’t be for another month at least.” My protest was weak. We both knew it didn’t matter what he’d said. The Board had already made their decision and Riley had no choice but to go if he wanted to make sure things ran as smoothly as possible.
He reached forward and pulled me into a hug. The childish part of me wanted to resist, to stomp and scream and demand that he stay. But I didn’t. I let him fold me into his embrace, breathing long and deep to combat the sobs wanting to burst free. I wouldn’t cry. Not here, not in front of Riley.
“I know, Noah,” he said, his breath stirring the hair on the top of my head. “And I’m sorry. But they said if I’m not there in two days they’ll go ahead without me and have one of their own oversee. I can’t afford to let that happen.”
I nodded, a strange yet familiar numbness overtaking me. It was almost like clockwork, and I welcomed it. This was the second moment and how I dealt with my brother leaving. I’d gotten it down to a fine art, that’s how many times he’d walked out of my life. First came the dread and anticipation of lonely nights to come, causing my chest to ache. Second, was the numbness that overrode the ache, washing over me to protect me from the worst of it. Then, when I was certain Riley was safely on the plane, and I was tucked away in our big old house, the dam would break, the numbness would release me, and I’d cry for all I was worth, eventually tiring myself out and falling asleep. The next day I’d be good as new, and it would be like none of it ever happened. I just had to make it through the next few hours. And I would. I always did.
“So I won’t see you for a while then,” I said, pulling away from him.
He shook his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Not for twelve weeks at least. Hopefully by then there’ll be some sort of basic structure and I’ll be able to get away for a few days.”
I nodded, his words bouncing about my head. Twelve weeks. Three months. That was a long time to be lonely. But I’d worry about that later. Right now, I’d make the most of the precious time we had left.
“Wait, what about that?” I asked, suddenly remembering the dog.
Riley looked sheepish, then gave me his best attempt at an innocent smile.
“No. Way.”
“Come on, No,” he whined. He actually whined. “It’ll only be for two weeks.”
“That’s what you said last time,” I said, looking at Tank, who had settled down and was now sitting on the edge of Riley’s sneaker. “Izzy was supposed to have been back by now. Her baby is supposed to be back in her home, in it’s home, where it belongs. Not here, chewing up my t-shirts and leaving little doggie surprises all over the house.”
“But he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. Izzy needs two more weeks to get her mum settled.” Riley bent and picked up the little dog, holding it out to me, his face imploring. “Are you really willing to kick it out and have it live on the streets, with no home, no shelter, no food, or tender love and care?”
“Yes,” I said firmly, no hesitation at all.
“Cripes, Noah!” Riley said, yanking the dog backwards out of my reach. Like I wanted to touch it. “That’s just cruel.”
“So is you leaving me with your obligations.” I sighed heavily at the crestfallen look on my brother’s face, and against my better judgement said, “Fine. I’ll look after Tank. For two weeks. But if Izzy isn’t here to collect hi in exactly fourteen days, he’s out on his a*s, got it?”
Riley cracked a he grin, pulling me into another tight hug and dropping kisses all over my forehead and cheeks. Excited as usual, Tank wanted in on the action, licking my face and the corner of my mouth. This time I did gag, screeching and pushing at Riley.
“Oh, my god! I’m going to be sick,” I said when he released me, wiping my mouth frantically with the back of my hand.
“Well, at least he hadn’t just finished licking his butt,” Riley said, cracking up. I continued to gag, cursing him, cursing the dog, threatening to kill both of them.

It was several minutes and three lots of brushing my teeth later when I came back downstairs. Tank was nowhere in sight, but the kitchen door was closed, so he was most likely shut in there.
Riley was still in the hallway, rechecking the tags on his luggage.
“I’ll take you to the airport,” I said, reaching for one of his suitcases.
“It’s okay, No. I can take a cab.” He moved to take it from me but I yanked it out of his reach, almost dislocating my shoulder in the process. Cripes, it had to weigh more then me.
“Ry,” I said, opting to drag it rather than lift. “You do know they had enough of their own bricks in China to build the Great Wall with, right? There’s no need to smuggle some more in, especially when they finished building it a few centuries ago. Or are you planning to save on materials for the new branches by taking some with you?”
He cracked up laughing and picked up the other two fairly easily. I narrowed my eyes.
“Trust me to pick up the heavy one,” I muttered.
“They all weigh about the same,” he said, waiting for me to open the door. “You’re scrawny a*s just needs to get some muscles.”
“I’m not scrawny,” I retorted. I had b***s, and an a*s. You just had to look closely. Not that I was about to encourage anyone to do so. And I didn’t care what people said. Five foot five was considered average height for a woman. People only thought I was tiny because I was always standing next to Courtney, who was several inches taller and had ample curves in all of the right places.
I lugged the case out of the way and swung the door open, letting Riley overtake me and head out.
He dropped them near my truck and gave me an odd look. “No, I can take a cab. It’d save you hassle of taking me out there and then having to come all the way back home by yourself.”
“Come on, Ry. Why waste money on a cab when your sister is perfectly capable of driving you there, and is also offering?”
He gave me a droll stare. “You say that like we’re poor.”
I snorted at him, opening the back door of my truck. “The fact that we have the money is beside the point. And at least this way I can say goodbye to you at the gate.”
Try as I might, I could not heft the damn suitcase high enough to get it into the truck. It didn’t help that Riley just stood back and watched me struggle - laughing at me so hard he was almost bent double - until I shrieked at him under the case’s heavy weight to help me or I’d make sure Tank’s demise came sooner rather than later at the hands of an unfortunate accident. That had him moving. Izzy would never speak to him again if he let anything befall her precious doggie.
Once we’d gotten all of his bags in - Riley on heavy lifting duty, me merely supervising, we piled into the truck and headed out.
Riley drove, simply because airports tended to be very busy places, with little in the way of parking. And given my stellar parking record it was understandable that he wanted to avoid another insurance claim. With the late afternoon traffic it took us almost an hour to get there. We passed the time listening to the radio and chatting. He’d asked Mel to stop by the house every now and then to check on me, and told me I had to go in to work at least once a week to see her. He’d also organised with Courtney and her mother that I stay over at their house at least twice a week. I’d protested and told him I didn’t need to be mollycoddled just because one idiot ex boyfriend had had a go at me. I’d then received an earful about teenage girls and how they could never be too safe no matter how independent they thought they might be. That lecture alone had taken up ten minutes of our journey. He parked in the short term parking lot about a mile from the entrance, and it was only halfway there I discovered the suitcase had wheels. Of course, Riley found this highly amusing.
“Yes, ha, ha, very funny brother dearest,” I puffed. Lugging a sixty odd pound suitcase was a real mission, one that had caused me to work up quite a sweat. When I’d first hopped out of the truck, the early evening chill had begun caressing my bare arms and legs, making me wish I’d brought a jumper along. Now I didn’t need it, being so overheated from the haul.
“Did you know it had wheels?” I asked loudly to be heard over his full blown laughter.
“Yep,” he said several feet ahead of me, still chortling. “I just wanted to see how long it took you to figure it out.”
I dropped the handle, the suitcase landing with a loud thwack on the pavement, and ran at him. Riley yelped in surprise as I jumped on his back, dropping his own luggage before cracking up all over again. He wrapped his arms around my legs to stop me from falling. “You’re such a dork,” he said, still snickering.
“Really?” I asked, and began tickling him furiously, his snickers growing into a howling laughter.
“I’m sorry!” he cried as I wrapped my legs tight around his waist and continued relentlessly.
“Yeah, so you should be,” I said, ignoring the passers by, some of whom were watching with amused interest, others who were giving us disparaging glares before moving on. I kept up my ticking assault until we were both gasping for air, then slid off his back to retrieve the discarded suitcase.
“You’re a demon child,” Riley said around a huge smile when I fell into step beside him. I was pleased to note he was still slightly out of breath. “A demon sister, I swear.”
“Says the demon brother who enjoyed seeing his sister struggle.”
He shrugged as he led the way through the glass doors and into the departure terminal, his cheeky grin still in place.
“I was going to tell you it had wheels,” he said, heading for the long queue of people waiting to check their luggage. I had a retort on the tip of my tongue but it died as angst set in. Closed in spaces with lots of people made me uncomfortable. And although the departure building had a curved, high ceiling made of glass panels giving it a dome effect, it didn’t make me feel any less suffocated. The people nearest me were walking in all directions at fast, clipped paces, and I almost rammed someone with Riley’s suitcase. The man sidestepped at the last second and paused in his conversation on the phone to snarl an insult at me. I narrowed my eyes at him as he continued to pass and was just about to let him have it when a hand clamped over my mouth.
“Please,” Riley said next to me, amusement glittering in his eyes. “Lets just get through this without you burning the ears off the rude people.”
So I fumed silently, watching as the bottom of the jerk’s trench coat swished out of sight and he disappeared into the thick crowd.
“He insulted me because he was too busy chit chatting to pay any attention to where he was going,” I snapped at Riley. We stopped at the back of a line, behind a family of four. “I should have kept walking and taken him out. Heck, there’s enough weight behind this baby to at least break his legs.” I patted the suitcase affectionately.
“God, I’d hate to see someone really piss you off,” he said.

I linked my arm through his as we waited in line, leaning my head on his shoulder and breathing in his familiar Calvin Klein scent. It helped smooth out my anxiety, so that by the time we’d checked his luggage over an hour later, I felt marginally better. No longer bogged down by his heavy bags, we traversed the pale orange floors, dodging people who were ambling right towards us, and found the escalators leading to the second floor. Riley towed me to the left, where there was a large food court and a games arcade sitting next to it. For a moment, I thought he was going to lead us into the food court, where the lines for McDonalds and KFC were so long people were milling about the entrance. Thankfully this wasn’t his plan, instead leading me into the arcade. Some kind of rock music bleared from unseen speakers, the rambunctious sound bordering on ear-splitting. Kids of all ages occupied the front area which was visible to any parents who would choose to sit outside in the rows of chairs near the boarding gate rather than being buffeted by the music and hundreds of brats on a sugar high.
We made our way to the back, where the older people spent their time before their flights. To the right, groups of kids about my age milled about the arcade games, shooting zombies or racing cars. The sheer numbers suggested that not all of them were waiting for a flight or saying goodbye to a loved one. More likely this was a regular hangout, where they came to blow off steam or pass the time away.
A dozen pool tables took up the left side, all of them occupied. I was surprised to see a few businessmen in their mid to late twenties playing at one of the tables, wearing what appeared to be very expensive Armani suits. I guess I just figured arcades were haunted by less sophisticated people. Patrons that had pocketfuls of pennies, not pocketfuls of limitless credit cards. Which was hypocritical really, considering my brother and I weren’t your average penny carrying citizens.
After a ten minute wait we managed to snag a pool table and played for about an hour and a half, Riley beating me every nine times out of ten. It made me wonder if he did this before every trip he took. Came up to the arcade to pay a bit of pool. I certainly had no idea. This was the first time I’d actually accompanied him to the airport. Usually I just said my goodbye’s from the front door and watched as the cab pulled away.
Tired of losing, I dragged him over to one of the car games where I promptly kicked his butt as well as the butts of the two teenage boys sitting on my right. Three races later the disgruntled teens switched machines, not at all happy about losing to a girl.
I laughed, scrambling out of the seat to follow Riley back out of the arcade.
“You’re just lucky those car games don’t require you to park up you car somewhere,” he teased, making for the rows of chairs by the boarding gate. “Otherwise it would have been a total disaster. I don’t think they have insurance.”
I offered him a wide grin, not at all humble about kicking his butt. After all, he’d taunted me for over an hour at the pool table. “Now, now, brother dearest. There’s no need to be such a sore loser. I only kicked your butt epically!” I cackled with laughter, dancing out of his reach when he tried to grab me.
We sat in a row of chairs facing the huge electronic board that listed all of the flights. So far Riley’s wasn’t boarding yet.
“When are you supposed to board again?” I asked, snuggling into him. I was definitely going to miss him when he left. But that would come later. For now, I was still cloaked in that numb feeling, and would need it for what came next.
Riley checked his watch, then wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “It’s just after nine now. The boarding pass said ten.”
So in other words, he’d be leaving pretty soon. Not wanting to think too hard about it, lest I lose my cheery, calm demeanour and start bawling, I scuffed my shoes back and forth on the dark blue, thin carpet, watching other people say goodbye to their loved ones.
A middle-aged man in a pair of faded jeans and a white t-shirt hugged his wife goodbye, who was blubbering noisily into his shoulder.
“I’ll be back in two weeks,” he said, pulling away from her with an amused smile on his face.
“I know,” she sniffled, but when she opened her mouth to say something else, words failed her and she blubbered all over again.
I shook my head, amused but also touched that someone would get that upset over a two week separation. They must have loved each other deeply.
“That’s not half as bad as some of the things that happen around here,” Riley said, nodding at the overemotional couple. I raised my eyebrows at him in question. “When I was here last time, a boy and a girl not much older than you are were saying goodbye, and their goodbye peck turned into a goodbye snog, which then turned into a goodbye embrace and snog, and before I knew it they were pretty much dry humping at the gate entrance. I wasn’t the only one afraid they were going to lose their clothes next and turn us all into voyeurs.”
I gaped at the horrid look on his face as he remembered his ordeal, then cracked up laughing. “What broke them apart?” I asked, regaining my breath.
“Security.” He shuddered. “It wasn’t pretty, that was for sure.”
He continued to tell me about other instances where people had put on quite a show. One was a man who decided he didn’t want to say goodbye to his girlfriend and tried to get through the gate without a boarding pass. Apparently Hollywood movies had it wrong, as the man found out. There was no accommodating lady at the gate who was a sucker for romance and who let the guy pass so he could reclaim his lover. Instead, there was a tall, beefy guy with arms as thick as tree trunks who physically reprimanded the guy when he tried to dash past, wrapping one of his tree trunk arms around the poor guy’s neck before bringing him to the floor with a knee in his back for good measure. I laughed so hard at his recounting of events I almost wet myself. Half a dozen stories later a female voice spoke over the intercom, alerting us that Riley’s flight was now boarding.
My stoic facade threatened to crumble as we stood and hugged each other fiercely.
Don’t go, don’t leave me alone. The words were on the tip of my tongue when I bit down hard, swallowing back down. He kissed me several times on the cheek before we pulled away, and his smile was sad.
“I’ll see you in twelve weeks,” he said, ruffling my hair.
No, please don’t go. Stay.
“Yep,” I said instead. “Twelve weeks.”
“I’ll miss you, No.”
Don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone anymore.
“I’ll miss you too,” I said, and hoped I was smiling.
He picked up his carry on bag, then leaned forward to plant one last kiss on my forhead.
“Be good. Stay out of trouble.”
I’ll be good if you stay. I promise.
“Of course. You don’t wave to worry about me,” I said.
He began walking backwards to the gate. “I’ll call as soon as I get settled in, so leave your cell on.”
I nodded, my fake smile threatening to crack my face.
Stop walking away. Come back.
“I love you,” he said, less than three feet from the man taking tickets.
“Love you too, bro.”
He turned and handed his ticket over, then faced me one last time, a sad smile on his face.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said.
I nodded, my throat too constricted to speak. He gave a small wave before disappearing from sight. I stood motionless for a long time, staring at the spot I’d last seen him.
“Come back,” I whispered, but of course he never heard me.

“Excuse me dear,” a lady said to me, the barest hint of concern in her eyes. I snapped myself out of my daze and blinked at her. She appeared to be in her early thirties and was wearing a thick black coat that came down to the middle of her calves.
“I’m sorry,” I said, wondering how long she’d been standing over me. “Can I help you?”
Her smile was warm, and as I took a deep breath, I could smell her fruity perfume. “Actually, I was hoping I could help you. Me and my husband have been wondering about for an hour now and noticed you haven’t moved. We were wondering if you were lost? If you’re waiting for someone to arrive, the arrival terminal is the next building over.”
I looked over her shoulder to see a man of roughly the same age holding a woman’s purse in one hand, a Starbucks coffee in the other. He was looking at the board of outgoing flights, and must have been the lady‘s husband. Apart from the purse, he was wearing a matching coat.
I offered the lady a smile. “Thank you, but I’m fine. I’ve just said goodbye to my brother and thought I’d rest a while before going home.”
Her concern eased, and she patted me on the arm gently before saying goodbye and moving back to her husband. I watched her go, nodding at the husband politely as he looked my way. Her returned the gesture before they both walked on.
I stretched in my seat, the bones in my back clicking rather painfully. Then something the woman said stabbed at my brain. She’d first noticed me an hour ago? I fished my phone out of my shorts pocket and gaped at the display. It was one in the morning. I’d been sitting here for three hours!?
I stood abruptly, though I’m not sure why. It’s not like I had anywhere to go, or anyone to miss me. Still, I made my way to the escalator and headed down, pleased to note that with the early hour of the morning came less people on the bottom level. The lines weren’t half as long as when Riley and I had first come in, and the pedestrian traffic pacing the floors had thinned considerably also.
I stepped out the sliding glass doors and was assaulted by the early morning chill, goose bumps skittering up my bare legs and bare arms. I folded them tightly against my chest, cursing myself for not bringing a jumper with me. I jogged towards my truck, hoping to warm my exposed limbs a little. It didn’t really help, but once I was parked behind the wheel I started her up and turned on the heater.

The roads were all but empty as I headed home. I hit play on the CD player and cranked it up to an ear-splitting volume. Maroon 5 crooned at me, and I sang along as I cruised down the freeway. My house came into view half an hour later but instead of turning into the drive I continued on past it. I wasn’t ready to go back just yet, keen to put it off as long as possible. Tank would probably be most upset at being left alone for so long but that was tough bickies. I hadn’t volunteered to look after the little critter, nor had I wanted to be stuck with him in Riley’s absence. And if he did any doggie doo-doos in the house before Izzy came to collect him in two weeks I’d just sweep them all into Riley’s room and close the door.
I kept driving until I found myself at Irvine’s All Day Breakfast Bar, and as I had no place else in mind to go to, and didn’t know of anything else that was open twenty four hours, I pulled into the almost empty lot. Seeing as it was nearly two in the morning and the lot was almost empty, I double parked my truck, not even trying to manoeuvre it into one of the two spots.
Grabbing my wallet from the compartment under the dash, I slid from the cab. Once again, the early morning chill assaulted me, sending shivers up my spine and goose bumps skittering along my exposed flesh. I hurried to the heavy glass door and pulled it open, but the air inside seemed to be the same temperature as outside. Oh, well. I’d rather be cold and here than warm and at home, I thought, shuffling further inside. The place was brightly lit, leaving nothing in shadows. All but one red vinyl bar stool was occupied, a big bald man in a fluorescent orange vest sipping a cup of steaming coffee. He looked over briefly as the door chimed shut behind me, then went back to his drink. Not wanting to risk any strangers coming in and sitting next to me, I walked around to where the red vinyl booths were and slid into the one in the middle, where I could see the main counter. Despite the lack of cooking going on in the kitchen, the place still held the aroma of bacon and pancakes, now with the scent of coffee tainting the air as well. A woman was stationed behind the counter, wiping down the countertop with a chequered cloth. She saw me sit and came bustling over instantly, whipping out a notepad and pen. Her lemon yellow uniform glowed in the bright light, the colour washing out her pale complexion and clashing with her yellow-blonde hair.
“Hi, sugar,” she said cheerily, then looked me up and down. Her name tag read Meredith. “It’s awful cold out tonight. Didn’t you bring a jacket?”
I smiled up at her, resisting the urge to rub my hands up and down my arms. “Um, no, I forgot it.”
She clucked her tongue at me, much like a mother would when she was about to scold her child. “Well, I wouldn’t stay here too long, or you’ll catch cold.” She leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially in my ear. “Mike, the owner, is a bit of a tight a*s, so he won’t crank the heaters up unless it’s below freezing. Says if we’re cold we should put on more layers.”
I nodded my head, and placed my order of double chocolate ice cream and fries, which Meredith raised her eyebrows at, but wrote down then went away to fetch it.
Five minutes later I was wading my spoon through the thick goop, not really interested in eating it. A small part of my brain as well as my stomach were trying to remind me that I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, but I ignored them, continuing to move my spoon about lazily. The plate of fries sat to my right, cooling down fast in the frigid air. I pushed a couple around the plate, staring absently out the window. But the light from the breakfast bar cast a harsh glow on the glass, making it a reflective surface, so all I could see was my face staring back at me. And what a sad face it was.

I cracked an eye open, blinking it against the bright light, and briefly wondered where I was. The sound of dishes clanking in the background accompanied by the stronger smell of coffee brought with it the realisation that I was still at Irvine’s. I must have dozed off. At least the cold wasn’t bothering me anymore. On the contrary, I felt toasty warm. Maybe stingy Mike had felt sorry for me and put on the heater. I moved my head slightly, sniffed, and then frowned. My nose was clogged, the arm supporting my head wet, along with both of my cheeks. Confused, I sat up enough to get my hands under my face and swiped them under my eyes. Oh, crap. I’d been crying in my sleep. Was still crying if the silent tears streaming down my face were anything to go by. I sniffed again and sat up fully, rubbing my eyes vigorously. As I did so, something slipped from my shoulders, taking the warmth with it.
“Well, well, sleeping beauty finally wakes up. Or should I say, drooling monster?”
I jerked in surprise at the familiar voice and pulled my hands away from my face, glaring at the one person I didn’t want to see me like this.
“Ugh, what are you doing here?” I said to Tyson, trying to rub my wet cheeks on my shoulder. Forget a jumper to combat the cold, right now I only wanted it so I could be more discreet about the fact that I’d been crying.
I opened my mouth to tell him to go away but stopped short when I got a good look at him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, like he’d just finished a long workout, and his eyes were half lidded, but what had my mouth hanging open - and possibly drool leaking from it, was the fact that his hair was loose. My fingers once again itched with the urge to run through it, the luscious locks ending just below his shoulders. I freely admit he was good looking with his hair tied back, but to see him with it framing his angular face was another thing entirely. It had my heart beating a frantic, irregular rhythm, and butterflies battering my otherwise empty stomach.
“I just finished work,” he said, running one of his hands through his hair. I tracked the movement, and clenched my hands into fists in my lap to stop myself from leaning forward to do it myself.
“Huh?” I asked dumbly.
He gave me an odd look. “You asked what I was doing here.”
I shook my head, trying to clear it of my not-so-innocent thoughts. “Oh, right. Yeah. Work. Great.”
Gee Noah, I berated myself. Try a full sentence next time.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyeing me intently.
“I don’t know,” I blurted before I could think better of it. I sniffed again, touching my now dry cheeks to double check that I’d stopped crying. My eyes were itchy and sore, meaning I’d probably been at it for a while. The question was, how long had Tyson been sitting there watching me cry.
I cleared my throat nervously. “How long have you been here?”
He looked at the clock hanging behind the counter and shrugged. “About fifteen minutes. The waitress said you’d only just conked out so I thought I’d leave you to it for a while longer.”
I nodded absently, hen snapped my head his way as something he’d first said registered in my brain. “I wasn’t drooling.” Even so, I swiped the back of my hand across my chin to double check.
“So you deny drooling, but not that you’re a monster? Interesting.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled, still wondering how the hell he’d ended up here.
I shifted in the booth and something brushed my leg. Looking down, I discovered it was a black jersey, and the reason I’d woken up toasty warm. I pulled it into view, raising my eyebrow at Tyson.
“This yours?”
He nodded, amusement quirking the edges of his mouth. “I’ve never seen someone shiver in their sleep before. And you might want to put it back on since you’ve started again.”
Sure enough, the hand holding the jacket was shaking slightly, as was the rest of the upper half of my body. At least he hasn’t said anything about my waterworks, I thought. Yet.
“You know I still owe you a shirt, right?” I said, but shoved my arms through the sleeves anyway and pulled it close around me. The thick material was soothing against my skin, and his tantalising, masculine scent enveloped me. I breathed deep, savouring it, and caught the underlying fragrance of jasmine.
Tyson snorted at me from across the table. “Just don’t puke all over it and we’ll call it even. It’s one of my favourites.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “Deal.”
Having just spotted Tyson, Meredith strolled over to our table, whipping out her notepad and pen. A frown dominated her face. The woman was not happy.
“Son,” she said, addressing Tyson. “I hope you know it’s ill manners to keep a girl waiting for over half an hour, especially in the middle of the night.”
I gaped at her. Obviously she was reading the situation wrong. “If it was me, I wouldn’t have waited at all, no matter how pretty you are.”
“Um, no,” I rushed to correct her. “He -”
“You’re absolutely right,” he said, a serious look on his face. “And I will definitely make it up to her.” When he looked at me, a twinkle in his eyes, my ever malfunctioning heart skipped a beat before going into palpitation mode. And that hair! Again, my fingers itched, but I clamped them together in my lap.
Meredith’s face softened and she gave us an indulgent smile. “Ah, young love. You two kids make the most of it. Now what can I get you?”
My mouth flapped open and shut several times, my cheeks burning. I wanted desperately to blurt out that we were no such thing. Not a couple. Not a ‘we’ or an ‘us’. just a ‘me’ and a ‘him’. But before I could find my voice Tyson placed his order, then asked me if I wanted anything.
“U-um,” I stuttered. My stomach rumbled to life, insistently reminding me that it existed and wanted sustenance, now. “Yeah, can I just grab some blueberry waffles and a lime shake? And can you drown the waffles in strawberry sauce please?”
Both Tyson and Meredith raised their eyebrows, but neither one said anything. Meredith went back to the kitchen to pass on our orders to the chef.
“You know, you’re so weird,” I said to Tyson, my cheeks still burning.
“How so?”
“The last time we were here, you practically ran out the door when someone assumed we were, well, together. Tonight you’re pretty much putting the idea into another someone’s head.”
He shrugged, reaching into his jeans pocket to pull out his packet of smokes. Definitely a nervous habit, I thought, remembering all of the other occasions he’d done the same thing.
“So why were you crying?” he asked, his gaze boring into mine.
I opened my mouth to tell him it was none of his business but shut it again. The look in his eyes said he wasn’t asking to gloat, he was genuinely interested in the answer.
I pulled his jersey tighter around me. “Just stuff,” I muttered.
He arched an eyebrow. “Aidan’s not bothering you again, is he?” The steel in his voice was hard to miss.
I cried out in triumph, startling him into dropping his smokes. He gave me a very odd look before he leaned under the table to collect them.
“You just answered my question,” I said when he resurfaced, feeling smug that I’d finally gotten something out of him he hadn’t wanted me to know.
His eyes narrowed in confusion before recognition stirred and he realised I was talking about earlier today, when I’d asked him why he’d saved me from Aidan. So it was because of me, and not because of his precious car. Well, that was something.
“So I did,” he said, amusement glittering in his eyes.
Meredith came back over with our food before bustling over to serve another midnight muncher who’d just walked in the door. I watched as Tyson picked up his burger and took a huge bite, somehow managing to keep himself and everything in his vicinity mayo and barbecue sauce free. It must have been an art, because I, for the life of me, had never been able to do it.
“Do you normally come here after work?” I asked, pushing the sleeve of his jersey up my arm to free my hand. I picked up my fork and speared a waffle, bringing it to my mouth and biting off the corner.
Tyson nodded, taking another large bite.
“And do you normally work this late?” I asked, glancing at the clock. It was jus after two thirty.
He swallowed, taking a long sip of his coke before answering.
“Four thirty in the afternoon until half past one in the morning. Monday to Friday. Noon til six on a Saturday.”
I gaped at him, already doing the mental math. “You do a fifty hour week?” I exclaimed. “And go to school?”
He nodded. “Now that you know why I’m here, what are you doing here? Won’t your parents notice that you’re missing?”
A pang of loneliness hit me at his words. Yes, they would, if they were still alive. But I didn’t say that. Instead I just shrugged and said, “Nobody’s home. I‘m free to do what I want.”
He looked at me for a few long moments but didn’t say anything further. Just as well, because he wouldn’t have gotten any more answers.
We continued eating our meal, with Tyson throwing me a slightly disgusted, slightly incredulous look when I dipped my strawberry coated blueberry waffle into my lime shake. I rolled my eyes at him and made a show of eating the waffle, laughing when he screwed his face up further.
“You know,” he said, his face still screwed up. “You’ll be diabetic before you’re twenty. Ever considered eating something green? Naturally green,” he added when he saw my eyes dart to my very green lime shake. “In fact, do you even know what lettuce looks like?”
I let out a bark of sarcastic laughter, licking the lime froth from my fingers.
“When was the last time you went a day without smoking? No, a week?” I asked.
“Why?”
“Because when you can do that, or when you quit smoking altogether, you can lecture me about my addictions. Until then, you get no say.”
He sighed, but cracked one of his half smiles and went back to eating. He’d munched his way through two burgers, fries and a plate of onion rings by the time I finished my waffles. When we were both done we sat back, him with a sigh of satisfaction, his eyelids even heavier than when he first walked in. I wondered how he did it. Went to school, then to work, then home for a few hours sleep before repeating the process all over again the next day.
“Do you work in a factory?” I asked, leaning forward on the table to place my chin on my arms.
He nodded. “How’d you know?”
“Most night shift work comes from the factories.” Azalea Shipping’s factories worked twenty four hours, six days a week, only closing on Sundays. It stood to reason that most others did the same.
He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it. He repeated the process several more times, indecision flaring in his eyes, before he finally huffed out an annoyed breath.
“I live alone,” he said, not looking at me, but at the packet of smokes he was fidgeting with again. “I need to work to pay the bills.”
I sat in stunned silence, not quite believing what he’d just told me. It wasn’t exactly what he’d said, but that he’d said it to me without being prompted. He’d just confided something in me. And although it was probably an important piece of information for my case study, I didn’t question further. He hadn’t told me because of our assignment. He’d told me because he’d witnessed me crying, and knew I hadn’t wanted anyone to see me like that. This was his way of offering me something in return. Of showing me that he wasn’t about to take my private moment and belittle it. I wasn’t going to spoil it by interrogating him. That could come later, when our spontaneous moment of truce was over and we were back to our normal bickering - and in Tyson’s case moody - selves.
So I stayed quiet, and together we sat in silence until well past four o’clock. It wasn’t until after I’d gotten home and crawled into bed that I realised it was the first time we’d sat in companionable silence rather than a loaded silence where I was likely to blurt out something stupid.

Reviews

[life*of*equiluxe]

I totally thought that Noah was going to come out of the airport and her truck would be towed! Good chapter- I really like how their relationship is developing. And so sad that Riley left! You did a great job with that whole scene when she found out he was leaving.