Broken Brent [bxb]

I stand at the front of Travis' waiting for Mom and him to return. Today's the day I get to come back to Travis'. I never thought I would ever be happy about seeing Travis McMinn. Mom coming home is cool too, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not stilled pissed about spending all that money on her boyfriend.

Olive brought me over this morning to get my stuff put away. Sometimes it pisses me off how I can't stay mad at her. She knew about Ben, she knows Liam, what else is she hiding from me? The stupid thing is: I really don't care. She's my sister, at the end of the day I love her. I know most siblings fight a lot, but with Olive and I that's never been the case. Maybe it's because we've never lived together longer than two weeks. I think that's why siblings get along better as adults than they do when their kids.

I talked to Mom and they said they were just a few minutes away. That was twenty minutes ago.

I'm paranoid. I won't lie about that. So now, with my mom an estimated fifteen minutes late, it's taking everything in me not to imagine that Travis has killed her and I will never see her again. I'm a terrible person because I think I'm more concerned with the possibility of having to live with Alexander for a year than the fact my mother could be dead. I fucking suck.

Finally, after a half hour of trying to keep my breathing under control, a taxi comes down the road and puts into Travis' driveway. My mommy is home!

I watch them get out of the taxi.

"Don't just stand there, help us out." Travis says to be the second he lays eyes on me. I shrug and start to the car to help with bags.

"Brent!" Mom drops her stuff and runs to me. "I missed you baby." She says with her arms wrapped around my neck.

"I missed you too." I tell her, hugging her back.

"I got you something." She says as she pulls out of our hug.

"You didn't have to," I tell her.

"I shouldn't of," She reaches into her purse, "But I couldn't help myself." She lifts out what looks like a shirt.

"No."

Mom holds out a shirt that reads BONJOUR BOYS with an Eiffel tower up the side with a heart splashed behind it. "Oh, yes." She smiles evilly and shoves the shirt against my chest.

"Helen, come on." Travis says. I actually agree with Travis on this. Mom spent all that money to go to Paris and now we're just running the meter on the taxi. Just so she can give me a stupid shirt.

I grip the shirt in my hand. "I'll get the bags."

"No need." Travis says while balancing all of their bags against his body.

I think about taking some of the bags off his hands, but I don't want to. This is Travis I'm talking about. On the other hand, my mom quickly pays off the taxi driver and then races off to get the door for Travis. I don't understand that woman.

"Dammit, Helen!" Travis says shortly after things fall.

The taxi driver is a middle-aged man with gray hair, but at least most of it is still there. Slightly chubby, he doesn't look like a terrible guy to drive you home from the airport. He counts his money and shakes his head because of Travis. He finishes counting and starts to pull out of driveway. "Good luck, kid." He directs at me. Then he's gone.

Good luck with what?

"Brent!" Travis screams, "Get your ass in here!"

I groan and head for the door. I did not miss Travis at all.

Mom, Travis and I are eating an early dinner in the living room watching some stupid American sitcom. Travis, who is sitting in his recliner while Mom and I reside on the couch, is just happy he's watching good old American television. Mom's too tired to do anything tonight, she didn't even unpack yet. So instead of Mom cooking anything tonight we ordered pizza.