He reminds me of Mom before she slipped away into her dark abyss, watching the world outside, waiting for something, anything better than what we’ve been dealt.
“What’s out there, little brother?” I ask him softly.
I watch as Kalen begins to slowly rock from side to side before he finally shrugs and digs his fingers into the frame, pushing the window up.
“Nothing.”
I lick my lips nervously because there’s something else I want to know, but I’m kind of afraid to ask.
Rubbing the back of my neck uneasily, I remind myself that Kalen probably needs someone to talk to these days if he was desperate enough to try Mom.
"Who was out there before?”
He chuckles as he shakes his head, his back still aimed toward me. I can tell by the way his muscles are tensing that he has so much to say but isn’t sure if it’s worth it.
That’s how I act when I’m still feeling out the atmosphere sometimes.
The perks of being a twin, I think with a sad fondness.
“Just... he seemed so goddamn familiar for some reason,” Kalen states as his shoulders slump a little. “Like I’ve met him before, even though I know I never have. Is that weird?”
Yes.
“Not at all, little brother,” I lie with a wave of my hand. He’s still not looking at me, so I don’t know why I added that little gesture. Maybe it was to make myself feel better, though that’s not what I should be worried about right now.
“Really?” Kalen asks uncertainly as he finally turns to look at me. He crosses his arms loosely over his chest as he balances on the window frame, and I nod enthusiastically.
“It happens to me all the time.”
Kalen begins to chew the inside of his mouth. A clear cut sign that he’s trying to decide whether to believe me or just let sleeping dogs lie.
And when he drops his eyes for the briefest second before turning them back up to mine, I realize that maybe, just maybe, I may have finally won a small battle with him.
Though I have an uneasy feeling that a war is looming and he’ll do whatever it takes to win.
Even against his own blood.