Page 9 of Bluebird

Luke’s hand grazed my wrist. “You okay?”

“Not really. I just want to go home.” I wrapped my arms around my waist.

Luke gazed over in Jake’s direction and clenched his jaw. “Let’s go.”

I waited in the passenger seat, as Luke pushed my very resistant and drunk brother into the back. He was snoring before we reached the main road.

“Wanna talk about it?” Luke asked, throwing me a glance.

Nate was drooling profusely onto Luke’s vinyl seats, so I was confident he wouldn’t hear.

“Jake wants to have sex. I don’t.” I blurted.

Luke’s eyes bulged. “Oh wow, you just came right out with it, didn’t you?”

“It’s not that I’m not ready…I’m ready…” I rambled. “I just…don’t know if I want to do it…with him.”

Luke gripped the steering wheel tighter. “He hasn’t tried to force…”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Jake would never.

He exhaled heavily, relaxing back into his seat.

“Is that all you guys think about?” I asked curiously. “Sex?”

Luke cleared his throat and shuffled around uncomfortably. “Well…”

“Argh, you too?” Even in the dark, I could see his cheeks growing red.

“Firstly, we’re not talking about me. And secondly, yeah, most guys think about it…a lot,” he answered honestly. “But it’s not everything.”

I contemplated his words and hoped they were true.

“You know, you play this big brother role much better than Nate.”

Luke smiled tightly, and remained silent for the rest of the drive home.

* * *

Flowers turned up on my doorstep a few days later. A huge box of ‘I’m sorry for being such a dick’ roses. Typical. Jake never liked confrontation. It wasn’t enough, but I guess it was a start.

A week later, he finally built up enough nerve to call. I didn’t have a mobile, but he knew what time I’d be home to call our landline.

Mum smiled encouragingly as she handed me the phone. She knew we’d had a fight, but didn’t care for the details. She must have assumed it was my fault—she always did.

“Hello?” I greeted coldly.

“Hey, it’s Jake.”

When I didn’t reply, he continued.

“I’m so sorry Nat. I didn’t mean what I said the other night. Please know that. You know how I get when I drink too much. I can’t seem to control what I say…or do.”

A lone tear slid down my face at his despair. I wiped it away and pressed the phone to my ear, wanting to feel closer to him.

“You need to stop pushing so much,” I whispered, hoping my mum wasn’t eavesdropping.

“I know…and I will,” he promised. “I love you, Nat. You know that, right? I wouldn’t do anything to purposely hurt you.”