Hazel Gower
CLOSING MY EYES, I TOOK a deep breath in and slowly let it out as I told myself not to whack my idiot brother upside that empty damn head of his. “You couldn’t for once in your life just keep your frigging mouth shut?” I grumbled.
Arron shrank down in the emergency room chair, holding the icepack over his broken nose, as I held the other icepack over what I was sure would be a broken wrist.
“I promised Dad I could look after you this time. You’re seventeen years old. He shouldn’t have to hire a bloody nanny to keep you in check while he’s on deployment.”
“I don’t fucking need a nanny, or my sister who’s only four damn years older, to babysit me.” Arron’s fierce dark brown eyes that almost looked black glared at me.
“Ha! Well right now you just shit all over that, because I, your sister, who is only four damn years older than you, had to leave my new job so I could pick my brother up from school, and take him to the emergency room, because he got in a fight at school, with not one guy, but two.” Arron’s cheeks tinged with red. I sighed. Arron wasn’t one to fight people for no reason. He was a good kid and even though he used to hang out with the wrong crowd, he wasn’t one to start fights. “What did you get in a fight over anyway? We haven’t even been here for three months.”
“I hate it here. Why did we have to move again? You could have stayed in Darwin. You’re old enough to be on your own. You finished technical and further education (TAFE) and had your apprenticeship. I would have happily stayed there with you. Do you know how much it sucks to start a new school senior year? Not even the start of the year but with only a couple of months left before you do the High school certificate (HSC)?”
I could have stayed, but my dad needed me. Arron needed me, even though he thought he didn’t. We’d lived in Darwin for five years. The base was a big one and my dad went where the Army told him. I’d finished high school in Darwin and had made some great friends. When Dad told me he was being transferred, he said I could stay and finish my apprenticeship, but I knew he needed me and there were a lot of job options for me in Brisbane. Arron hadn’t wanted to leave and had begged to stay. The transfer, my dad said, couldn’t come at a better time. He hated my brother’s friends. So three months ago, we moved to Brisbane, Queensland. I loved it here straight away. I even had friends who had moved down here to go to Uni or get jobs. There wasn’t much to do in Darwin and there were so many more options here. I’d gotten a job at a hairdresser’s soon after we moved.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to start later in the year and so close to your HSC, but Arron you know why you couldn’t stay.” Arron had been pissed when Dad said we were moving because he didn’t like the choices Arron was making. “Dad wouldn’t have let you stay with me in Darwin anyway. He wants you with him.”
“He’s not even around to care.”
I winced at the pain and truth in his voice. “He’s only away for four more weeks. Then he’s back for at least six.” Leaning over, I hugged my brother. I loved Arron. He was all I had besides my father. Our parents had been foster children and met at a group home event. When my mother died eight years ago from a brain tumor, my dad fell apart and sank all his energy into his work, rising in the Army ranks and taking any deployment they offered. We had a nanny until I turned eighteen. Then I took over and it became just me and Arron most of the time. “He cares. I care.” I kissed his forehead. “Wanna tell me now why you got into a fight?”
Arron’s face turned bright red and he groaned. “I can’t stand these rich kids. There’s these two Silverman guys, who think their shit doesn’t stink.” His shoulders dropped. “I ignore them most of the time, but um…er… fuck, they saw you this morning when you dropped me off to school and I forgot my bag and you came back and got out of the car. One of them took a frigging photo of you, and well, let’s just say he wasn’t being very respectful.”
Reaching over, I hugged my brother again. “I love you Arron. Thanks for being protective, but I’m a big girl. I can handle a little boy.” I winked at him. “I’m my father’s daughter after all.” Our dad had drilled into us from an early age that we needed to learn how to protect ourselves. I’d taken self-defense class every year from age eight and Arron was an awesome boxer, but he’d never used his skills outside of the ring until today. I even did some boxing classes myself and loved it. Boxing was my relax time. It was also something that helped me to meet and make new friends wherever we moved.