Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 28

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 35
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

"Hey," I said, walking into Aaron's kitchen.

Was it weird that my 15-year-old brother had his own kitchen, in his own wing of the house that I'd bought?

Yeah. It was. I couldn't wait for Christmas to be over.

He was sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen, eating something. "What's that?" I asked, sitting across from him.

"Nothing."

"It looks like lasagna."

"Yeah. I just microwaved it. Want some?"

He opened a drawer near him and handed me a fork.

"Thanks," I said, taking a bite. "I still need to do some shopping. Can you help me… where did you get this?"

He shrugged, not looking at me. "The freezer."

I was going to kill him. I could feel that little button in my head that made me hate my brother switch on.

I got up, yanking open the freezer door and looking inside.

"This is the last of it," he said. His voice was scared. It should be scared.

That was Rachel's lasagna.

"Tell me these were leftovers from last year."

"No," he admitted, and he took off when I lunged for him.

"Where the fuck did you get Rachel's lasagna? Did you steal it from my place? What else have you taken from there?"

"No! She sent it to me and Angel for our birthday. I don't go to your place when you're not here. You have Rachel's lasagna?" He sounded a little hopeful on that last question and I reached out to throttle him, but he ran away, towards his bedroom. I got inside before he could slam the door in my face.

I had four little containers of Rachel's lasagna in my freezer. She'd made it for the family the last time she was here and she'd made an extra for me. They were from like six months ago and probably not any good, but I didn't want to throw them away yet. And I definitely didn't want my brother stealing my memories of Rachel.

"Jesus, Nick, lay off!" he yelled, jumping on the bed, out of my reach. "It's just fucking lasagna."

"Why did she send it to you?"

"It was my birthday! Your ex-fucking-girlfriend remembered and you didn't."

"I did too!"

"You didn't call!"

Okay, so I was in Vegas, partying with Paris on Aaron's birthday. Whatever.

"I was busy! I'm here now!"

"And you're trying to kill me! Happy fucking birthday to me!"

I fell into the nearest chair and looked up at him, tired of fighting.

No wonder Rachel left me. I was a lousy person. I was a horrible boyfriend, but I was a worse brother. At least when I had been with Rachel, even when we weren't in the same place, I talked to her more than I ever talked to Aaron.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Really. I was out partying on your birthday and time got away from me and I'm sorry. I really am."

Aaron kept standing on the bed, wondering if my apology was a trick. I didn't blame him. It was a trick that had worked in the past.

"I was really mad at you. Then we got the package from Rachel and I didn't care any more."

"Did she just send you a lasagna out of the blue? How did it get here?"

"It was frozen solid, man. It took us like three hours to cook it. And even then, the middle was still frozen."

"Maybe you should have defrosted it first."

Aaron scowled at me, but jumped to end up sitting on the bed. He was in striking distance again, but I wasn't going to kill him.

Yet.

"Did she really remember your birthday?"

"I think Katie reminded her."

"Her niece? You still talk to her?"

He shrugged, looking away. "We email sometimes. I don't call anymore. Her dad doesn't like me."

"Well, yeah, you're a jerk."

He whacked me. "I think it's all your fault."

"Probably. But Katie's a really nice girl. You shouldn't be dating her."

"I'm not! We're just friends! What about you and Rachel? She's a really nice girl, too."

"She is. Way too nice for me. Did you thank her for the birthday lasagna?"

"She sent cookies, too. We ate all those already. And some books." He leaned over, grabbing a book off the bedside table. "It's really good. She said a friend of hers buys books for his niece, and she's fourteen, but she reads at like, a college level, and even though she's a girl, I'd still like the book. I'm almost done. See?"

Aaron didn't read. None of the Carters read. And Rachel said? He talked to her? And what friend of hers had a fourteen-year-old niece?

I was going to kill him again.

"You talked to her?"

He held the book against his chest like it would protect him. "I had to thank her for the presents."

"You could have written a note."

He gave me a look. We didn't write, either.

"I didn't break up with her, Nick. I can call Rachel if I want to."

Brat.

"The friend? Is that the lawyer boyfriend?"

Rachel's new boyfriend was helping her pick out presents for my brother? How… final was that? She'd moved on, just like I knew she would. She had a new boyfriend and now she was doing nice things for Aaron and Angel. That was totally mature, adult behavior.

My chest hurt. Maybe beating up my brother would help.

"I guess," Aaron said, eyeing me suspiciously. "What do you care? You're dating Paris Hilton now."

"I'm not."

I might as well. Everyone thought we were together.

Should I tell Aaron I almost got together with Anna? He loved Anna.

Not that I'd really gotten together with Anna. It was just one weird night. I kept thinking about her, though.

"You were partying with her in Vegas on my birthday. I saw the pictures of you."

"That doesn't mean-" I sighed. "It doesn't mean anything. I've been out with her a couple of times. And I'll be in LA for a while, rehearsing for the tour, and she'll be there. We'll see what happens."

Anna would be there, too. Anna or Paris?

Considering Anna had told me there wasn't a shot in hell, I guess it was Paris. Anna hated her. Was she just jealous? She was never jealous of Rachel. I didn't think. She never tried to keep me away from Rachel. She was always giving me advice about Rachel and stuff.

No, she liked Rachel.

"Is Paris like Rachel?"

I shook my head. "She's nothing like Rachel."

Not at all. It wasn't just that they looked completely different- Paris was tall and blond, Rachel short and brunette. But Paris liked to go out and party, and Rachel loved being at home. Paris had millions of friends, and knew gossip about everyone. Rachel could party, and gossip, but it wasn't all she did.

Maybe that was just because I only saw Paris at clubs. She was probably different if I got to know her.

"I liked Rachel."

"It took you a while," I reminded him, and he gave me a little smile. "Yeah. Rachel was great. But I'm not ready for that yet. I still need to have some fun, and Paris is a lot of fun."

"Rachel's fun."

"It's a different kind of fun. Can we stop talking about women I'm not even dating and go shopping?"

"Sure."

Disclaimer | Sudden Silence Website
Feedback to Authors | Tragical Fiction (home)

Subscribe to receive an email when this site is updated!

Powered by groups.yahoo.com