Date: Tue, 30 Mar 2004 20:16:30 -0800 (PST)
From: Jeremy Benner <jeremy0579@yahoo.com>
Subject: My Brother's Affiliation- Chapter 17

TEASER: "Ian leaned into me, pressing his body against my side, and softly
brushed his hand over the side of my face as I cried. His face was inches
from mine, and I looked desperately into his deep blue eyes..."

This part of the story includes: no sex

______________________________________


My team and I beat Brookeside last Saturday, which didn't surprise me in
the least. Coach kept telling us that they were going to be tough because
they are a very solid team as we are and they have a strong defense and
powerful linebacker blah blah blah, but we whooped their ass the whole game
and walked away with a very impressive score of 43-13. And we beat
Westerville today, which means that we have a spot in the play-offs. The
state title is looking damn good right now and although that's fucking
awesome... part of me doesn't give a shit at the moment.

"Nice playing, Brian," Megan said to me as I walked past her and her
friends and made my way to my car after the game.

"Thanks," I smiled awkwardly, glancing over to her for a brief moment
before turning my attention back to my car, which suddenly looked very far
away.

"Where ya goin'?" she shouted to me

"Home."

"Not going to Kyle's party huh?"

"Nope!" I shouted and continued to walk

"Shouldn't I be the one being cold to you? Not the other way around?"

"I'm not being cold, Meg! I'm just going home!"

"Tell your girlfriend I say hello! She can have my sloppy seconds!"

I shook my head and almost stopped walking to turn around and tell her for
the hundredth time that I didn't have a girlfriend and I was sorry for
hurting her but there was no point so I just kept walking. I was actually
getting annoyed with her and feeling less and less sympathetic every time
she talked shit to me. She needs to move on and stop pestering me, which is
all she does now. Everywhere I turn there she is to tell me I'm an ass or
to flirt with my buddies around me. It's just getting old and annoying.

I really didn't feel like going home. Sure, Ian was there and I wanted to
be with him, but it was such a big night. We were in the fucking play-offs!
It didn't seem right to not celebrate with my team. It's not like me to go
home after a game instead of going to a party, getting drunk, and acting
like an ass with all my buddies. As I drove home in the opposite direction
of Kyle's party, I got more and more depressed thinking about how much I
had changed.

"Hey," Ian said, grinning as I walked through the door.

"Hey," I responded lightly and sat down on the couch beside my brother. I
felt his eyes on me as I rested my head back against the cushions and
looked up at the ceiling.

"You lost?"

"No... we won. 32-29," I said simply

"What's wrong then?"

"Where are mom and dad?"

"Out. I dunno where... what's wrong?"

I rolled my head to the side and looked over at him. He looked scared and
startled, like he was waiting for me to say something serious and
horrifying. I smiled a little to reassure him that everything was fine then
as my smile slowly disappeared I said, "Tonight was just a rough night."

"Why? What happened?"

"Nothing really. Nothing happened at all."

"Okay..."

"I'm just depressed, you know?"

"No, I don't know. You won tonight..." Ian said gently, "You made the
play-offs right?"

I couldn't bring myself to respond. I felt my emotions boiling inside of me
and before I could force myself to calm down my bottom lip began quivering
hysterically. I couldn't stuff my feelings down like I usually can and
before I knew it tears were slowly streamed down my cheeks.

"Brian, God, what's the matter?" Ian whispered, quickly moving closer to me
and stroking my face

I closed my eyes and sniffled repeatedly, trying hard to keep from weeping
and sobbing uncontrollably. Ian is the only person I'd feel remotely
comfortable crying in front of, and I was still uneasy as he stroked my
face and watched my tears flow.

"Ian, I'm ok," I said softly, pulling his hand down from my cheek and
sitting up straight on the couch. I bent over my legs, resting my forearms
on my knees and lowering my head to hide my grieving face.

My brother was quiet for awhile. I knew he was staring at me as I continued
to cry and my tears dropped to the floor and into our moms beige carpet.

"Is this about me?"

"No," I sniffed, wiping my eyes

Ian put his head on my shoulder, nuzzling into my neck, and rubbed my
back. I didn't want him so close to me when I was feeling so emotional and
out of sorts, but I didn't say anything. Well, I didn't say anything until
he whispered in my ear that everything would be ok. That ticked me off
because he didn't even know why I was upset. Maybe everything WOULDN'T be
ok. I wasn't a child. Don't tell me what I want to hear.

"Come on Ian, I don't want to be babied," I said firmly, tilting my body
away from him.

"I'm not babying you..."

"You are. Don't say shit like that to me right now, alright?"

Ian's hand slowly dragged from my back as he moved away from me and sat
back on the couch. I immediately felt bad for being so rough with him, but
I didn't apologize.

"I can just leave you alone. It seems like that's what you want," he said
delicately, his words featherlike in an effort to not upset me again.

I didn't respond.

More tears seeped from my eyes as my emotions kept sweltering within me and
tried to get to the surface to break through my rigid demeanor. Part of me
wanted to just give in and allow myself to cry and release all of my
sadness, but a stronger part of me didn't want to admit that I was as upset
as I was.

"Fine," Ian said and the couch jumped as my brother got up.

I closed my eyes and made up my mind that it was okay that Ian was leaving
and I didn't need him, but my heart knew that I didn't want him to go so
before my brain had a chance to remind me that I don't depend on other
people I said, "That's not what I want."

There was silence. I anxiously waited for the couch the sink down,
announcing my brother's presence beside me again but when it didn't after
several long seconds, I looked up. Ian was standing beside the couch
looking down on me. He looked sad but also like he was serious and waiting
for me to say something else. Like apologize or tell him how much I really
needed him. He loves to test me and test how much I love him, which doesn't
bother me because it proves that he won't put up with me when I act like an
egotistical prick. I have never gotten along with wimpy, subservient people
who just take my shit. My brother will never beg me to let him love me,
which makes me love him and want him even more.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you... I don't want to be left alone," I said in an
almost inaudible voice.

My eyes followed Ian as he sat back down beside me. I expected him to touch
me in some way like he always does when I'm upset, but he just looked into
my eyes with a very serene expression on his face to let me know that he
wasn't angry with me. I wanted him to stroke my face again and rub my back,
but I settled for just his being there beside me. Of course I could have
reached out to him to show that I wanted some affection, but I didn't want
to do that. Even though I'm evolving into more humble, compliant person I
still have those stubborn and arrogant qualities inside me.

I looked at my brother and smiled a little as I wiped more tears from my
eyes and cheeks and sat up straight on the couch.

"I hate crying," I stated, laughing slightly to hide how awkward and
powerless I felt.

Ian didn't respond; he just looked at me with a dismal expression and
watched me wipe the tears from my eyes. I knew he was waiting for me to
explain what was going on, but I really didn't know what to say. I've never
been good at expressing my feelings, particularly because I rarely do. I'm
much better at lying about how I feel.

"Brian..." Ian whispered, encouraging me to talk to him.

My false smile diminished and I felt sadness course through my body and
contort onto my face as my emotions started boiling inside of me again. I
didn't want to hear myself say what I was feeling, but I knew I couldn't be
coy with my brother.

"I don't have anyone but you, Ian," I muttered, my voice croaking as I
spoke the words and tears flooded my eyes again.

Ian leaned into me, pressing his body against my side, and softly brushed
his hand over the side of my face as I cried. His face was inches from
mine, and I looked desperately into his deep blue eyes as he said, "You
don't need anyone but me..." He looked as if he was going to start crying
with me as he said this.

"I feel so alone," I gulped, "I don't know what to do."

"You're not-"

"Every thing is so fucked... it hurts and... I can't... I can't..."

Ian continued to run his hand over the side of my face as I began crying
harder, and I couldn't get my words out so I just sobbed helplessly. He
must have been terribly confused by how upset I was because earlier I was
perfectly fine. I was joking with him, kissing him, excited about the game
tonight, I was not upset in the least; I was like I always am with
him. Everything was fine.

When I opened my eyes after I had finally started calming down, I saw that
Ian's own tears were running down his cheeks as he gazed at me and shared
my grief. Though I had calmed down, I continued to cry. It was amazing to
see my brother crying simply because I was so upset. I love him with every
fiber of my being.

"I realized tonight," I started, speaking slowly as not to rouse my
desolation, "I'd have nothing if it weren't for you."

"That's not true," Ian said and more tears gushed from his eyes.

"It's true... before you I had football, my teammates, and idiot
girlfriends hanging on me. And I don't have any of those things
anymore... I don't WANT any of those things anymore."

Before Ian had a chance to respond I went on to say, "Now that I'm... I
don't know... maturing, if I can give myself that much credit, my teammates
annoy me and I can't relate to them anymore. All this week they've been
infuriating me with their bullshit and their constant stupidity and
insolence and I can't fucking stand them anymore."

I paused to wipe my eyes and nose then sighed, exhausted from my little
"breakdown."

"After the game my teammates were cheering and celebrating in the locker
room, talking shit on the other team, being obnoxious as always, but I
wasn't celebrating with them. I was at my locker getting out of my jersey
so I could shower and go home. Because although I was excited that we won,
I didn't want to share my enthusiasm with those guys. I didn't want to deal
with any of them."

Ian grinned showing his satisfaction with what I was saying. He's always
hated my friends.

"No, Ian, it sucks. Those guys make up my team! Without them I'm not a part
of anything and football is just a sport I play that has no meaning. Why
would I play alongside guys I can't stand? It takes away from the game."

"You play because you love to play. Not because of the guys you play with."

"No, E. Those guys are my team... I can't win without them and I don't want
to win with them therefore I have nothing."

I sighed and shook my head as the words sank in.

"I don't want to play anymore," I said dully, "Fuck the play-offs. Fuck
everything."

"Babe I think you're overreacting," Ian said gently

"No... I'm really not. I love football for two reasons, Ian. One because
I'm great at it and two because I'm a part of a team... and I'm not a part
of the team anymore.  Fuck those guys."

"What did they do? Why do you all of a sudden just hate them?"

"You know all of them, Ian, they're bastards. I got along fine with them
when I was just as ignorant and childish, but I can't stand them
anymore. All they care about is sex and football and making fun of people
for a good laugh. Ugh, I just can't fucking stand them."

Ian smiled and rubbed his hand over face again.

"But now all I have is you. And even though you're all I want it's a sad
and hurtful reality. God, Ian, I'd die without you."

He continued to smile and I smiled along with him as I watched his face
turn red.

"But then again, I wouldn't have this problem if it weren't for you. I'd
still be acting like a jackass with all my buddies."

"I'm sorry for bringing out the best in you and causing this problem," Ian
joked.

I smiled.

"I never wanted this to happen. I enjoyed how big of an ass you use to be."

"I love you," I said honestly.

"Do you?" my brother asked, smiling.

I nodded.

"Good, because I love you too."

I moaned and leaned into my brother, pressing my forehead against his, then
said, "I don't know what I'm going to do now though."

"Do you really think everything is fucked?"

I was hesitant to respond. I didn't know how to answer that.

"Everything seems fucked, E. I mean, you get along fine without sports and
being popular and girls hanging all over you, but I need those things."

"No you don't, and Brian," Ian said, lifting off of me, "You can't just
stop playing football because you don't get along with your team."

"No Ian, I-"

"If you do that then you're yielding to them. You're giving up something
you love because of other people... you'd let them win."

"How can I play with those guys? I don't want to put up with their shit
anymore."

"You play with them because you help them win. You're looking at in the
wrong way. They are your team. You don't have to like them you just have to
play with them because you guys win together. You're in the play-offs! You
can't just stop playing, babe."

I had no argument after hearing this. He was right.

"Do you really want to stop playing?"

"...No."

"Then, dude, you gotta play!" Ian laughed

I groaned, laughing a little.

"Don't let them ruin the game for you and don't resent the fact that you
have to play with them to win."

"If I hadn't grown up with you, I'd question if you are really seventeen,"
I smiled.

As I said this Ian and I heard someone fumbling to stick their key in the
front door, so we leisurely pulled apart and looked straight ahead at the
television.

"Hey boys," dad said as he walked through the door.

"Hey," Ian and I said tediously in unison.

"Where's your mom? Upstairs?"

"I dunno, I thought she was with you," Ian said without taking his eyes off
the TV.

"Nope. I haven't seen her all day."

"You've been working?" I asked, and chuckled to myself because I knew that
was in fact not what he had been doing on a Saturday from morning to ten at
night. Well, I guess it does take a little work to have good sex. Bastard.

"You know it, champ... what are you two doin'?" dad questioned plopping
down on the love seat perpendicular to the couch.

"Watching TV," Ian said

Dad looked at the television for awhile then over at Ian and I, then back
at the TV, and then to no surprise to me and my brother he slapped his
knees and go up as he said, "Well, I better get out of these clothes. It's
been a long day."

I nodded and watched my dad rise. As he walked away, I said, "Hey dad!"

"What's up?" he said, turning around.

"I made the play-offs. We beat Westerville tonight."

"Oh God, son! That's terrific! That is just... I'm so proud of you. You're
doing well, Bry. You're doing very very well."

I smiled falsely and said, "I'm glad you're proud."

"Definitely! Definitely... wow," he nodded. I could tell he felt obligated
to give me a hug or something but that was way too awkward for him. Hug his
son? Nah, he couldn't do something like that. That would make him a father.

"Just thought I'd let you know."

"Terrific. I'm happy for you. You're doin' good."

I nodded and looked away from him, giving him a chance to make his exit,
which he did.

"Let me know when your mom gets home," he shouted to us as he climbed the
stairs.

"He's a fuckin' prick," I said under my breath.

"He didn't know about the game, Bry," Ian responded.

"You shouldn't defend him all the time, E. You don't know-" I stopped
myself and quickly said, "You can't tell me you think he's a good father to
us. He's never fuckin' here."

"I never said he was. I just don't think you can be mad at him for not
knowing you won tonight. He didn't even know you were playing!"

I shook my head.

"You don't tell him anything! You honestly treat him like shit."

I laughed

"You don't treat him like shit?" Ian challenged me

"He is shit, so I guess I do," I said harshly

"I'm not defending him... he IS never here, but we try with him as much as
he tries with us."

"Ian please... let's discount the fact that he's never here. I'll just work
with the fact that when he IS here he doesn't show any interest in us at
all. What did he just do, Ian? He walked through the door, sat down for two
minutes then quickly got up and left. That is reason enough to treat the
bastard like shit."

After I spoke, Ian looked at me with an expression that told me he was
trying to think of a way to refute my cruel words about our father. When he
came up short I said, "You have to stop defending him and making up reasons
for why it's okay that he is never around and he's never involved in our
lives. It's not okay and I stopped waiting for him to treat me like his son
a long time ago."

"You make him out to be such a horrible person."

I shrugged. He is a horrible person in my opinion.

"You give him no credit. If he didn't give a shit about us he wouldn't
still be around. He works a lot and when he comes home he's tired."

"Ian, Jesus... how can you be so smart about everything else but so dumb
about this?" I said sadly, "He is not working. He's fucking around on mom."

The words left my mouth faster than I could stop them. I didn't mean to say
it and I didn't want to say it, but I was angry. I couldn't allow him to
take up for our father. It was sad and pathetic.

"What?" Ian asked, but I knew he heard me

"It's true. With Kathryn."

Ian's face contorted into a look of both shock and anger.

"Just so you boys know, you mother is at a Debbie's! I just called her!"
dad shouted from upstairs

I looked up towards the stairs momentarily then back at my brother who was
still staring at me. He was wearing a pained expression then and he looked
like he might cry.

"Hey hey," I whispered moving to him, "We've cried enough tonight. Don't
cry over him, Ian."

"Are you kidding me?" he hissed, distress and anger ringing in his voice as
he spoke the words.

"I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd be hurt and I just-"

"How the hell do you even know?"

"Well, she called here and..." my voice trailed off as I looked at my
brother who was breaking to pieces in front of me. What a fucking night.

"Ian don't get upset..."

"I gotta get out of here. I can't be in this house with him," he said
quietly and stood up from the couch.

I stood up with him and followed him to the door.

"I'll drive," I said when I saw him grab his keys off the table by the
living room door.

Ian didn't argue with me; he opened the door and walked to my jeep, leaving
me to lock the door behind us.


To Be Continued...