Not My Hero

Not wanting anything intense, I go to the fantasy and sci-fi section, then ask, “How about The Host. It’s about aliens taking over the planet.”

“Okay.”

I press play, and we watch the first couple of minutes. A soft scent drifts from Brie, and it makes me highly aware of her.

I clear my throat and ask, “Do you feel better?”

She wipes imaginary fluff off her pants, then mutters, “Yeah, sorry. I don’t know why that happened earlier.”

Lifting an arm, I rest it over her shoulders. “Was it a flashback?”

She nods, and I pull her into my side.

“It happened to me the other day at school,” I admit, hoping it will make her feel better.

“It did?” she asks, glancing up at me.

“Yeah. In history.”

A light frown forms on her forehead. “Was that when Mr. Donati asked if you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

She hesitates, then asks, “What was the flashback about?”

I’ve never talked to anyone about the abuse we suffered at my father’s hands, and it feels awkward. “The first time my father beat me.”

A sad expression tightens Brie’s features. “I’m sorry it happened to you.”

I shrug, not knowing what to say to that. Wondering why she doesn’t ask me why I didn’t stop him from beating me, I ask, “Aren’t you going to ask why I didn’t stop him?”

She shakes her head. “I know the reason.” My brow furrows, and it has her explaining, “It’s easier said than done. The fear they instill in us overrides everything.”

I think about what Brie just said, then reply, “That wasn’t it in my case. I didn’t fight back, because being indifferent used to piss him off even more. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to me. It was a catch twenty-two situation. The more indifferent I became, the more violent he got.”

Movement from her hands catches my eye, and remembering the bandage she wore the other day, and now seeing the almost healed cuts, I ask, “What happened to your hand?” I reach for her palm and softly caress my pointer finger over the marks.

“My mom broke a glass, and I was picking up the pieces.” Brie pauses for a moment, then continues, “She squeezed my hand closed over the shards because she wanted a reaction from me.”

Brie’s eyes snap up to mine as if she just realized something. “I guess I did the same thing with my mom. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction, and it used to infuriate her. She always called me out for being a zombie and pathetic.”

Brie sucks in a deep breath, then admits, “That’s what my flashback was about.”

A guilty pang fills my chest. Before I got to know Brie, I used to call her out for just taking the bullying. All the while, she was just indifferent in her own way.

Not watching the movie anymore, I turn the volume down a bit, then ask, “Do you want to lie down?”

Brie shifts nervously. “Won’t your mom mind?”

I let out a chuckle. “Only if we get naked.” Once the words are out, I instantly regret them. “Shit, sorry, that was inappropriate.”

Brie just shrugs, then mutters, “We can lie down. I don’t mind.”

We shift our bodies on the couch, and Brie rests her head on my chest.

After a moment, she mumbles, “Today was nice.”

“Yeah?” Seeing as we’re not watching TV, I switch it off, and only the light from the kitchen shines into the living room.

“Especially lunch,” Brie adds. “It’s really nice having a friend.”

It is. I never had any because it would risk our family’s secret getting out. Brady, on the other hand, had friends and a girlfriend. I wish I knew what he thought when he committed suicide. Then I remember what Brie said. She panicked because I saw the poster.

I hate bringing up the subject, but needing to understand my brother, I ask, “If I hadn’t seen the poster, would you still have tried to commit suicide?”

“Huh?” Her head snaps up, and an awkward look shutters her eyes. “Ah… I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

Pushing an arm under my head, I stare up at the ceiling. “I wish I knew why my brother did it. He didn’t leave a note.” Not wanting to talk more about that night, I change the subject. “Have you thought about how you want to decorate your room?”

Brie shakes her head but then says, “I have a million ideas.”

“Do you want to paint the walls a different color?”

She thinks for a moment, then says, “Maybe just the one wall. A light blue would be nice.”

“I’ll help. We can spend your birthday redecorating your room.”

There’s a moment’s silence, and then Brie whispers, “Colton.”

“Yeah?”

Her arm wraps around my waist, and she gives me a squeeze before she snuggles into my side. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”