Not My Hero

They’re so nice.

The last animal I remember seeing is a baby goat, and then I drift off to sleep.COLTONWhen credits begin to roll over the screen, I dare a glance in Brie’s direction.

Seeing she’s asleep, a smile spreads over my face. I switch off the TV and decide to leave the kitchen light on for Brie. Turning onto my side, my eyes stay glued to her.

All the frustration I felt earlier because Brie wouldn’t stand up for herself is gone. In its place is an overwhelming need to keep her safe.

My thoughts turn to my mother and how different she was tonight. It’s as if Brie drew her out of the depression.

I know Mom said it’s okay for Brie to stay here, but I’ll have to talk to her about it because there’s no way Brie can go back to her mother.

I’ll go with Brie to get her stuff so her mother can’t do anything. She can move into the guest room.

I begin to drift off when Brie begins to move restlessly, and I hear her desperately mumble, “No… Stop.”

I’m up in an instant, and darting to the other couch, I sit down next to her. I place my hand on her shoulder. “Brie, wake up.”

She’s trembling like a leaf in a shit storm, gasping, “Sto-op.”

I shake her. “Brie.”

Her eyes fly open, and she darts up, her chest slamming into mine. I quickly move an arm around her. Her breaths explode in my ear, and then she wraps her arms around my neck. The way she holds onto me makes a foreign sensation spread through me.

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

She nods, and I feel her ear brush against mine.

I want to comfort her so desperately, it has me asking, “Want me to lie with you for a little bit?”

She hesitates for a moment but then scoots over to make space for me. Keeping my arm around her shoulders, I pull her tightly into my side as I lie down. I bring my other hand to her cheek and lowering my head, I press a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Things will get better.”

Brie curls up against me, resting her cheek on my chest.

Wanting to distract her, I ask, “What’s your favorite color?”

“All of them,” she whispers. “Yours?”

“Blue.” I hope she won’t take it the wrong way as I add, “Like your eyes. They remind me of the ocean.” A couple of seconds pass, then I ask, “Have you thought about what you want to do once we graduate?”

“I’d like to attend art school.”

“Yeah?” My thumb lightly brushes over her jaw, and I take in how soft her skin is. “You’re really good at drawing.”

There’s a moment’s silence, then Brie asks, “And you?”

“I’m going to work.”

I feel the tension begin to ease out of her as she whispers, “What kind of work?”

“Anything,” I answer. “I’m not picky.”

“Don’t you want to study further?” I take it as a good sign that she’s asking questions.

“Nah, I want to be able to look after my mother.”

And you, if you come to live with us.

“Why do you have so many piercings?”

The question catches me by surprise, and the corner of my mouth lifts. “It keeps people at a distance.”

“I should get a bunch too,” she mumbles.

A comfortable silence falls around us, and I begin to grow sleepy again when Brie murmurs, “Why are you so nice to me?”

I knew she’d ask that at some point. “I’ve been through something similar.”

Brie moves a little back, and her eyes drift over my face. “But how? You’re strong and never let Michael or Sully bully you.”

I keep my eyes locked on hers as I admit, “My father was stronger.”

Brie stares at me, then she asks, “Where is he now?”

“In California. We left after –” The words cut off, and sucking in a deep breath of air against the grief, I glance around the living room. “Brady, my brother, committed suicide because he couldn’t take it anymore.”

Brie nods, too much understanding on her face, and instead of it offering me any comfort, it makes my insides knot up with worry.

“Suicide is never the answer,” I say, my voice sounding harsher than I mean for it to be. “There’s always something to live for.”

“Like?” The word is so soft I almost think it was my imagination.

“Brady had me. He had my mother and a girlfriend. We all loved him, and I did my best to take the brunt of our father’s rages. He had a lot to live for.”

Brie rests her head on my shoulder again, and after a while, she whispers, “What if you don’t have anyone?”

I know she’s referring to herself. “But you do.” I tighten my arm around her shoulders and press another kiss to the top of her head. “You have me.”

Her voice quivers with emotion as she asks, “Are we friends now?”