BLAKE

"And I swear, it's like Elijah didn't even see me! He literally ran right into me and dropped the whole freaking pot on the floor and everything literally went everywhere and you know what? He told me to clean it up!"

"Elijah will never change," Logan replied dryly.

"I mean, he did help me, and I guess....well, he did do most of the work because he half burned my foot with all of that hot soup, but..."

"So basically what you're saying is that there's no point to anything in this whole story?"

"I am not! You forgot about the part where I was crippled for days!"

"Did one of these crippled days include the night you went to the party and someone posted that video of you dancing on the table?"

Blake put his nose in the air. "I was better by then," he huffed.

Logan laughed at him and Blake rolled his eyes. Logan indulged his stories, always, but nothing ever got past him.

They were at the mechanic, getting Logan's bike checked. He had ridden it three hours from Urbana-Champaign the night before, and Elijah had forbidden Logan from riding it back if he didn't get professional maintenance done on it before he left.

The mechanic walked back up to them, wiping his greasy hands on an equally greasy cloth. "Looks like your brake and clutch fluids need to be filled back up, your chain's got to be oiled, and the oil filter should be replaced," he told them.

Logan grumbled out a few curses and handed over the money to the mechanic, who took it and said, "Come back in about two hours. I've got a car lined up before your bike."

As they were leaving the shop, Logan muttered, "Honestly, I could've done this all at home. I can't believe Elijah made me go out and do this. I'm going to make him pay me back."

"Maybe he wanted you out and about for a bit," Blake said.

"First the guy begs me to come home for weeks on end, and when I finally get here, he just wants me gone. If he really wanted me out of his hair, I would've taken off last night."

Blake glanced at him before carefully saying, "Last night's the reason he told you to get some fresh air."

Logan became silent, and Blake didn't like it when Logan was creepily quiet. He couldn't stand to think of what Logan was thinking in his thoughts, alone. So he changed the subject for now.

"You want to go down to the park and play basketball for a while?"

"You always lose anyways."

"That's because you're always cheating."

"If you know I'm always cheating, why don't you ever cheat? Who ever heard of playing a clean game between brothers?"

They found an old, slightly deflated basketball laying dejected by the netless hoops at the park. Blake picked it up and experimentally dribbled a few steps. The ball bounced limply against the ground, but he threw it at Logan.

"You first."

They tossed the ball back and forth for about half an hour, dribbling at random intervals in an effort to revive the ball of its bounciness. Logan pushed and shoved Blake as he saw fit until Blake tripped him, sending him crashing to the ground.

Logan lay on the asphalt, laughing, and Blake smiled at his good mood. Nowadays, it wasn't often that Logan had one of his black moods, but Blake had long ago learned to cherish every happy moment with his brother. They sat together on the cold ground, squinting in the bright sun.

"Did you ever hook up with that red-haired girl you were telling me about?"

"Ashley?" Logan shook his head. "She wasn't my type."

"What about her?"

"She was a psych major. I don't want to get involved with some psychoanalyzing freak who'll try to fix me and shit."

"Didn't you go out with that other psych major that one time?"

"That was different. She was a double major."

"You are absolutely ridiculous."

"And you? Are you still failing math?" Logan retorted.

"I am improving."

"So you mean you've got a D now?"

Blake grinned. "How did you guess?"

Logan laughed and shook his head. "You'll never change, either."

"Not all of us can be four-point-oh students like you. I enjoy having a life."

"I do have a life."

"You drive home on Friday nights to your brothers' house. How is that having a life?"

"I don't enjoy getting trashed and dancing on tables like you. That's not really my definition of having a life."

Blake let the comment pass. "Why'd you come home anyways?"

Logan sighed and gently rolled the ball back and forth next to his legs. Blake patiently waited for him to speak. Over the years, he had found that with just the right amount of prodding, Logan sometimes answered.

And he did. "To be honest, I felt like shit. Needed a change of scenery."

"Did you find it?"

Logan shrugged and rolled the ball to Blake and laid down on the cracked concrete. He flung an arm over his eyes to ward off any more questions, but Blake didn't feel like stopping.

"Hey," he said. "Can I tell you something?"

Logan didn't move his arm from his eyes. "Yeah. What is it?"

Blake hoped this wasn't going to blow into an argument, but he had to tell him. "Olivia heard you this morning."

Logan didn't reply. He didn't move from his position on the ground.

"I think she really wanted to meet you."

Logan jerked up from the ground. "So what if she did?" he suddenly snapped. He scowled. "I don't have to give a shit."

"She's your sister, too," Blake argued.

"She's not my sister. We're related by some DNA. And only half at that. That's it."

"We grew up with her. We lived with her for five years."

"Well, we haven't lived with her for nine. I'd say that's a lot more than five."

Blake bit back all the things he wanted to say. He wanted Logan to know that his actions had bad outcomes, but Logan often took scoldings like this as a sign that he couldn't belong, and Blake didn't want that. Blake wasn't Elijah; he could let some things left unsaid at the expense of only getting his point half across.

Besides, he could tell something had gotten through to Logan because his brother drew his knees to his chest and stopped scowling. As soon as he started staring off at the street, his eyes glazed, however, Blake interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey, you want to go across the street and get a milkshake before we go back?"

Logan blinked, slow to process what he was saying. Eventually, he smirked. "As long as you're paying."

"When you give Elijah the price for the tires, add in the milkshakes too."

"He's not going to be fooled."

"Doesn't hurt to try."

Blake threw the ball at Logan and leaned back and closed his eyes. He could feel the sun through his eyelids. It made him feel alive.

And that made Logan's words suddenly echo in his head.

I felt like shit. Needed a change of scenery.

Logan hadn't relapsed in a while, or at least, he hadn't told them if anything had happened in the last year and a half. Blake knew there was little anyone but Logan could do to bring him back out of it at a certain point, but maybe it wasn't too late.

Please don't be too late.

Without looking at him, he declared, "Logan. I love you."

Logan was silent for a moment before he gave Blake a none too gentle shove with his foot. "Not again with the mushy shit, Blake," he groaned, but Blake could hear the smile in his voice, and it took a little bit of the load off his heart.

"Come on," he coaxed. "You love me too, don't you?"

"That's debatable."

"You know you want to say it."

"I don't want to say anything."

"It's okay." Blake closed his eyes and put his fingers to his temples. "All you have to do is think it. I'll feel it through the brother bond. Come on. Say you love me telepathically."

Silence.

A moment later he opened his eyes to see Logan's deadpan face. He grinned. "Thank you, Logan, that was the sweetest I love you I have ever gotten. That was very kind of you."

Logan rolled his eyes and threw the ball hard at his shoulder. "Let's go get that milkshake before you actually go nuts."

When they got back to the mechanic's shop an hour later, and Logan put his helmet on and got on the bike, Blake leaned casually on the handlebar.

"Hey, can I drive home?"

Logan snorted. "Do you even have a motorcycle license?"

Blake smiled at him pleasantly, even though he knew he didn't have to use all his charm to make his brother eventually relent. "I am in the process," he lied.

"What process? I know for a fact that Elijah would slaughter you alive if he found out you were in any sort of motorcycle process."

"Well, good thing he'll never know. Anyways, I can, can't I?"

Logan jammed Blake's helmet on his head and scooted back from the front of the seat. He patted the space in front of him. "Alright, come on."

Blake grinned and leapt onto the bike in front of Logan and put his hands on the handlebars. He looked down at the pedals and gears and tried to remember which was which. "Okay, now what?"

Logan sighed and reached around him and started the motorcycle for him, kicking the engine to life. It growled and then began to purr, and Blake clamped down on his laugh of giddy excitement.

"Now try not to destroy my bike or I'll kill you."

Has anyone seen that news reporters are holding their microphones on these huge long poles when they interview people because they have to be "socially distanced" from them? Can you believe it? It's both the scariest and funniest thing I have ever seen. Also, my state just got the shelter-in-place order starting yesterday. Serious things are happening :/

My next few chapters are a little on the shorter side, so I'll try to do a double update if they're under a thousand words, but it'll get better by chapter 20, promise. In the meantime let me know if you'd prefer that I skip a day between updates and upload two chapters every other day.

If any of my readers like fantasy, especially high fantasy, you should totally read this book here on Wattpad that I came across the other day. It is SO good and has a ton of chapters up if you're looking for something to read. The writer is WestDiggs and the book is called Blood Oath. I don't really know anything about Wattpad so I'm not sure if this link works but here it is: https://www.wattpad.com/story/216593474-blood-oath

Remember to vote and comment if you enjoyed! 

For next time: Elijah and Olivia are still at home. Can't forget about them!