The Best Thing for Me

  "Oh right. Sorry."

  "No, I'm sorry. I'm just freaking out. I didn't mean to snap at you." I apologised quickly, not wanting her to think I was being rude.

  "It's okay. Does Jason know?"

  "Well... that's the thing. I fainted. I just woke up and he's asleep, so I don't know what to do! I don't think he does know!"

  "Okay... take a deep breath."

  I obeyed, inhaling a deep breath, filling my lungs with the fresh morning air. I exhaled slowly and repeated the gesture a few times.

  "Better?"

  "Not really." I mumbled.

  "Okay, well maybe wait for Jason to wake up and then break the news to him. I guess that's the best thing you can do?"

  I nodded into the phone. "I'll try to. It's not like I can just be like, 'Morning Jason! Your Dad died last night, did you have a good sleep?'".

  "Well, not like that. You know what I mean."

  "Mm. Alright, thanks Mel."

  "You're welcome. Good luck."

  "Thanks." I muttered. "Love you."

  "Love you too."

  I hung up and a throat cleared behind me. "You're saying I love you to someone? Oh my Goodness, you're cheating on me!"

  I slowly turned around and Jason stood there, a hand over his heart and his other against his forehead dramatically. I rolled my eyes at him.

  "Grow up."

  He smirked at me. "Morning babe."

  He took two long strides and wrapped me into his embrace, which caused my feet to lift from the ground. I squeaked in surprise and he chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest.

  "Um... Jason. I have something really bad to tell you..."

  His smile dropped and he looked down. "I already know."

  "L-last night... Wait - what? You do?"

  "Yeah. I saw you collapsed on the ground, got Mum and she called the hospital and we heard from them. I was up most of the night with her."

  "I'm so sorry Jason!" I blurted. "I'm so, so- oomph!"

  "It's not your fault," he murmured, hugging me tighter. "I know it's horrible, but I got it out of my system last night. Now I'm just thinking positive. I can be with you freely now."

  "It's beyond that Jason!" I cried. "It's not just about you and me. It's about the fact your father has passed away and-"

  "Shh," he said, cutting me off yet again. "Just shh. You're getting yourself worked up."

  "How could I not be?"

  "You're going to wake up my Mum."

  I opened my mouth but abruptly closed it again. The last thing I wanted to do was to disturb Miranda at a time like this. I nodded slowly at him, understanding the importance of letting her rest. I already felt like a burden, I didn't need to go causing a scene.

  "Sorry."

  "Come on," he said, putting his hand into mine. "Let's go make some breakfast."

  I trailed behind him as he tugged me along after him. We entered the kitchen and I fixed myself some toast while Jason made cereal. We both collapsed on the bench stools at the same time. We exchanged glances and I laughed quietly.

  "The funeral is on Monday." he stated calmly.

  I choked on my toast and he snickered at me, patting me on the back. Finally, it went down my throat and I coughed, gulping down some juice. Finally, once I had recovered, I swiveled my eyes to him.

  "That's only in two days!"

  "So...?"

  "I have to mentally prepare myself!"

  He rolled his eyes. "No you don't."

  "Um, yeah I do." I argued with him.

  He sighed. "It will be okay, Emma. I promise."

  "For you..." I said. "You have no idea what I'm like at funerals."

  "I'm sure you're not that bad." he pointed out.

  "You'll see..."

  I hiccupped loudly, causing numerous people to look my way. Jason glanced at me in amusement. Tears rolled down my face and I sobbed loudly. I shoved my fist in my mouth, trying to stop myself making such embarrassing noises.

  "I told you I'm horrible at funerals!" I whispered angrily to Jason.

  "I think you're more upset than anyone else here and he was your enemy." Jason pointed out, trying not to smirk.

  "Shut up," I muttered, rubbing furiously at my eyes.

  I was wearing a plain, black dress and stockings. My blonde hair was straightened and fell down below my elbows. Jason looked especially smart, in a tuxedo and tie. His hair was combed back neatly, enhancing his blue eyes even more. He looked very dashing. It contrasted with his smooth, tan skin really well.

  I'm glad I hadn't worn any mascara today. Imagine that! My face was completely tear-stained and my mouth all hot and sticky. Even if I loathed Mark Mayor with a passion, I wouldn't have wished his death upon anybody! Miranda had cried a bit, but Jason had remained tearless. Me, on the other hand, was breaking down. It was pretty embarrassing, but funerals were just not for me. I just lost it, even if I didn't know the person very well.

  I gripped Jason's hand in mine and squeezed it. He squeezed back. Now that I looked closely, his eyes were moist. Soon enough, I was hurriedly exiting the building. The fresh air felt very nice to me, after being locked in the Church for so long, listening to the speeches (not that there were many) and what not. I took in a few gulps of oxygen, trying to calm myself down.

  That's when it started. All the people came up to Jason, apologising for his loss and wishing him all the best. I was crying silently, (yes, silently thank goodness!) beside him. A few people I had never met before were hugging me and shaking my hand.

  I probably looked more like his daughter than his boyfriend's girlfriend with the behaviour I was carrying on with. Even Britany had paid her respects, not glaring or anything at me. She had looked at me, but didn't hug me, which I was more than okay with.

  After the burial, Jason and I sat in his car. The hot air blasted, warming me up instantly. Jason didn't make a move to start the car. He just sat there, staring idly out the window. His hands were shaking slightly. I reached over and clasped them both in my own. He turned towards me and I rested my forehead against his, our breaths mingling together.

  "Are you okay?" I asked, sniffling.

  "More okay than you." he said calmly, but his voice broke throughout, revealing his true feelings. He was obviously pretending he wasn't as affected as he really was.

  "It's okay not to be okay." I said, trying to sound wise.

  "Are you quoting Jessie J?"

  "You know that song?" I asked, my eyebrows raising.

  "I don't live under a rock, Emma."

  I laughed through my nose, breaking away from our proximity. "I realise that."

  He pulled me back towards him, pressing his lips against mine softly. He then kissed the tip of my nose and reeled back, sighing.

  "Want me to drive?"

  "Might be a good idea."

  We switched places and I turned on the car, feeling it rumble beneath me. I always felt nervous driving with Jason. It was like I was learning to drive all over again. He was better than my Dad though, who rested his hand on the hand break the entire time. (Gee, thanks for your support!)

  "Where are we going?" I asked quietly. "Did you want me to go home?"

  "No."

  I bit my cheek to stop myself smiling. We'd been inseparable for the last couple of days. Dad understood, but he wasn't happy with the situation. He didn't like me being at Jason's house all the time. But, as far as he was aware, we didn't share the same bed. (Even though we did).

  "I will have to go home eventually." I reminded him.

  "Can't you just move in?" he whined, sounding like a little kid.

  I couldn't contain the smile that grew on my face. "One day Jason, one day."

  "Just not today, right?" he complained, repeating what I had said earlier.

  "Right." I nodded.

  He frowned. I sapped my seat belt on and waited for him to do the same. After that, I crept out of the car park and put the indicator on. I smoothly exited the area and shifted the gears. I felt s
o cool doing that. I kept checking my blind spots. (Yeah, I was a little OCD).

  "Are you going to school tomorrow?" I asked.

  "I don't think so."

  "Dad called me last night and said I needed to go soon."

  "I don't want to go back yet."

  I bit my lip. I didn't overly want to go back either, but Dad wasn't giving me much of a choice. I didn't want to become too far behind. I found it too hard in Math too keep up, especially when my exam coming up soon. I wasn't the type of person to just slack off and bluff my way through things. I liked to study and be very aware of everything.

  "Oh."

  "You can go," he said with a shrug. "I'm just not ready yet."

  "Mm."

  Silence lapsed as I drove down his street. I parked the car, noticing that Miranda's wasn't there. We slid out of the car and I locked it. We entered the house and I threw the keys on the bench.

  "Come here." He whispered.

  I obeyed him. He wrapped both his arms around my neck and crushed me into his chest. I wrapped my own arms around his waist as he rested his chin on the top of my head. He always joked at how I was a convenient height for him to have a head rest. It was quite true though.

  "Do you want to go home?" he asked.

  "Yes and no."

  "Don't feel like you have to stay here."

  "What about I go back, see Dad and Luke, catch up with them and then come back here and stay the night? But I'll probably have to go to school tomorrow. This way I can get all my school stuff ready."

  He shrugged. "That sounds good."

  "Okay." I stepped back and pecked my lips against his. "Go have a nice, hot shower or something while you wait. No eating my Nutella though!"

  "I wouldn't dare!" he protested.

  (Yes, Miranda had gone out and bought me some Nutella. What a legend).

  I went upstairs and double checked what I needed to grab, so if I got home and couldn't find some of my stuff, I wouldn't panic. Jason handed me his keys and I smiled at him. I skipped down the steps and drove myself up to my place.

  I cut the engine and went inside. "YO."

  "Hey," Dad said, coming over and giving me a hug. He was still wearing black from the funeral. Even though he had been there, I hadn't had a chance to talk to him. Mark Mayor knew a lot of people. It had been a massive funeral. "How are you holding up? You were crying a fair bit in the Church."

  "Don't remind me," I muttered.

  He chuckled at me, fluffing up my hair. I scowled at him, but didn't say anything. "Where's Luke?"

  "In his room."

  I nodded. After re-packing all my stuff I needed and talking to Dad a bit more, I went inside Luke's room. (Or the chamber of darkness as I often like to describe it as.

  "Hey."

  "Hey." he replied, not looking up.

  "Are you busy tomorrow?"

  "No."

  "So you'll be home around 3:30 then?"

  "I can't pick you up from school." he deadpanned.

  "Oh." I said, deflated. "How come?"

  "My work car has been sent away to get fixed. The radiator overheated."

  "Oh. That sucks."

  "Yeah. Anyway, bye."

  I frowned at him and snapped. "Nice to see you too, Luke."

  I stormed back out, shaking my head. That boy infuriated me to no end. I hauled my stuff onto my shoulder and planted a kiss on Dad's cheek.

  "See you tomorrow. I think I'm coming home anyway. Love you."

  "You going to school?"

  I nodded an affirmative answer.

  "Okay good, love you too."

  I smiled at him over my shoulder, before departing. It'd be weird staying the night at my own house again, when I actually do. It felt like ages since I had. Jason's words replayed in my mind about how he wished I'd just move in.

  I sighed in content. I loved Jason.

  And it was about time I told him.

  "Bye!" I smiled as I pressed my lips to Jason's.

  "Have fun." he replied moodily.

  He had been grumbling all morning. He hadn't wanted me to go, but it was Dad's orders. I smiled at him before slipping out. I walked in the school and located my group. I got hugs and small smiles from them. Some of them had been at the funeral.

  It was the talk of the school.

  So many people kept talking to me and wanting to find out the gossip. I snapped at a few people. How rude could they be? They were discussing somebody's life like it's a new, awesome T.V show. It made me sick how people thought these days. (I suppose I was having fun hanging out with Jason while his Dad was dying, but that’s different). I went to my locker and obtained the books I needed for the day. I slammed it shut and spun on my heel, running straight into someone.

  "Ack!" I cried out, stepping back and hitting the lockers.

  "Sorry." A voice said flatly.

  "Daniel?" I asked, looking up at him.

  "I was the one who pulled you that day."

  My mouth dropped open. He had just come out and admitted that so openly! My eyes were bulging out my head. He stood there, waiting for his words to sink into my brain. My mouth opened and closed a few times.

  "W-what?"

  "You heard me. I was working for Mark."

  "Oh my goodness..." I trailed off, leaning heavily back. "Do you realise you could have killed me?"

  "Don't be so dramatic," he replied, rolling his eyes.

  "No, I'm serious Daniel. Did you not realise I had been in a car accident not long before that? I had severe brain bruising. You literally could have killed me."

  He blinked at me for a few moments, surprise on his face. It only lasted a few moments before he stared back at me, devoid of any emotion. "Cool story bro."

  Without even thinking, I slapped him. Hard. My hand stung from the sudden impact. He jumped back in shock, staring at me with wide eyes.

  "Sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have said that."

  I ignored him and pushed him out of the way. He grabbed my arm, reeling me back. I sighed in irritation, the sudden urge to smack him again becoming over-whelming. "What?"

  "I have something else to tell you."

  "What's that?" I asked in a bored tone.

  "I know who hit Mark Mayor."

  I froze. Half-turning, I looked at him. "Who...?"

  "Your brother." he said calmly. "Luke."

  37

  I blinked at him for a few moments, completely dumbfounded, allowing his words to slowly sink into my brain. It wasn't every day you were told your brother killed somebody. After the words had rolled around in my mind, my fists clenched. I took two steps towards him and shoved him hard in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards from the impact.

  "Are you accusing my brother of murder?" I hissed, emphasising the word 'murder'. My eyes were narrowed into slits and my hands trembling. My nails bit into my palm, but I barely felt it. I shot daggers with my eyes at him. He seemed completely unfazed and at ease, which only made me feel angrier.

  "Yeah," he shrugged.

  "Don't you think you've caused enough trouble for my family? I think this is seriously crossing the line."

  "I'm just stating the truth." he replied.

  "Well you're wrong!" I cried loudly, forgetting to keep my voice low in case anybody around could hear.

  I turned on my heel and stormed away, tears of anger welling up in my eyes. I stomped to class and took my regular seat, my whole body was shaking. I took a few calming breaths, trying to regain control. After attempting to do so, my heart seemed to go back to its regular pace. I could barely focus on my work, but somehow I managed to get through it.

  It wasn't until lunch time that I really had time to sit down and process his words. Now that I thought about it, things sort of made sense in a way. Luke was out looking for me, the night Mark was hit. Then he didn't come home for a few days as he was 'staying with a friend'. After all that, his car was sent away...

  But that was all just a coincidence, right? My brother,
the spaced out almost trance-like guy, a murderer?

  I raked my fingers through my long, blonde hair and sighed deeply through my nose. I couldn't let myself believe anything until I spoke with Luke. I didn't want to make any assumptions, because that would just allow my imagination to get out of hand.

  Yeah, I'll talk to Luke. He'll explain everything.

  And everything will be okay.

  Everything was not okay.

  In a mad rush, I'd gotten home and made a direct beeline to Luke's room. He wasn't there. I marched back out and made my way to the kitchen and collapsed roughly on one of our bar stools. I leant heavily on the kitchen island and waited for Dad to turn around.

  "Afternoon." he nodded. "How was school?"

  "Fine," I waved his question off dismissively. "Where's Luke?"

  "Out for a run."

  I groaned, smacking my head onto the cool, kitchen surface. I sat there, listening to the sound of my own breathing for a while, thinking about what I should do. I really, really need to talk to him so I could sort all this out. It surely was just a big misunderstanding...

  "What's up?"

  "Just need to see him," I muttered. I got up and snagged my Nutella jar from the cupboard before dawdling to the lounge room. I knew watching Prison Break would calm me down. I snuggled underneath a blanket and sunk into the cushions.

  Around two and a half hours later, Luke emerged inside, sweaty and puffing. I frowned at him and he strode past the lounge. I waited, rather impatiently, for him to get out of the shower. I tapped my foot and bit my lip nervously. I glued my eyes to the screen, hoping to distract myself a little longer, but my thoughts were centered on Luke.

  After what seemed like forever and a day, Luke slowly came out of the bathroom and brushed past me into his room. I followed him wordlessly. He collapsed onto his bed and jammed his earphones in. I yanked them out, causing him to glare at me.

  "What's your problem?"

  I sat heavily down onto the bed and stared at him levelly in the eyes. I didn’t know the right way to say this, if there even was one, so I went straight to the point.

  "Did you kill Mark Mayor?"

  "What?" he snapped, his eyes looking straight through mine. I hadn't seen him look this alert for years. Literally. His gaze was penetrating. I kept my face stony as I let my words process in his mind.