'I know what you did last night.'
Those were the words that ended my life as I knew it.
My brother had just walked in to the lounge room, hair wet from the pool, towel around his waist.
He had a look of disgust on his face. He had the rare ability to convey so much with so little. A hint of inflection, the whisper of a frown. Eyes that danced so much when they were happy, so empty when they weren't.
'What are you talking about?'
I had always hoped that I'd greet my end with some dignity. Scrambling for time, dry-mouthed, pretending ignorance - this was not dignified. But the words were out of my mouth before I could attempt anything else.
His hard expression hardened further, and I blushed and quivered.
'Do we have to play this game?'
He was a devastatingly handsome man. I had always pretended not to notice it, rolling my eyes whenever he was mobbed by female attention, raising my eyebrows whenever asked for my opinion. But in reality I had always known it, deep in my soul, delightfully through my body. He was tall and broad and comforting, and had the face of a Greek God.
There's a reason the Greeks feared their gods.
He threw a backward glance at me and strode from the room.
I curled over on the couch and a sob escaped my lips. I knew what I had done was wrong, was a betrayal to my family, but I had had no choice.
I had slept with the man who had ruined our father's business.
I grabbed my phone, flicked through it desperately, listlessly.
You fucking slut. I told your brother everything
.
A text message from a number I didn't recognise.
I checked my conversation with Ethan. Last message received, 3:21pm yesterday:
Side door will be open
.
A burning, corrosive knot was forming in my chest. If our parents ever found out, I would be exiled from the family. And judging by Alex's reaction, he'd be happy to see my back too.
I'd have to plead my case.
His room was upstairs, at the far end of the corridor. Our house had more rooms than we could ever need, and with our parents on vacation, its long halls felt lonelier than ever. I knocked.
'Story straight yet?' he called out sardonically.
I inched open the door. His back was to me as he rifled through his cupboard for a change of clothes.
'Alex please,' I began, 'it's not as bad as you think.'
I watched as he pulled on a fresh shirt. My eyes flickered over his body, unable to meet his gaze. He was impassive.
'We have been given a great life here,' he said patiently. 'Very little has been asked of you. An iota of respect for your family is about it.'
'I had no choice. He was making threats.'
'What threats?'
I shook my head. 'I can't say.'
His eyes narrowed in fury.
'Get out, I don't want to hear your excuses.'
I fled from the room, fresh tears in my eyes.
-----
I left for class early the next day. The bus was crowded with the usual assortment of grey, absent individuals. Walking across campus I felt the uncomfortable sensation of eyes on me. Were people stopping to stare? I couldn't say.
The return of our parents three days from now felt like a ticking time bomb. I had to find some way to fix the situation before then. I had no doubt I'd be kicked me out. I was 19 without a cent of income to my name. My scholarship covered tuition only, and nearly everyone I was close to was a part of the broader Greek community. I thought about my brother, and about what a strange person he had become. The mischievous, unruly kid was gone and in its place an austere, perfect statue. The hours we had spent together - he with his water polo and me with my swimming, traveling the country for meets, the long bus rides where more than once my head found his shoulder - were gone now and had been for some years.
I composed several texts to Alex as I flitted from class to class, deleted all of them. A boy tried to talk to me in Econ, but my glazed eyes deterred him before he embarrassed himself. A small, insignificant thing, too scared to persist - I didn't have to fake my boredom.
During lunch break I went to the aquatic centre. Its squeaky tiles and stench of chlorine felt like home. Echoes of slapping backstrokes and barking coaches floated up to the high, cathedral ceiling.
The water was freedom. It felt fresh over my skin, like a million kisses. I swam two dozen laps, a fierce freestyle, clawing at the water. Swimming had been my only talent through school, and I had clung to it desperately. My crowded mantle-piece validated that desperation.
It also gave me the space to think. I lay on my back in the deep end and watched the world wobble and shimmer above, so far away. From here, it was an object I could inspect dispassionately, impartially.
I made my mind up.
Are you home tonight?
I texted Alex.
Yes
. The replay came almost instantly.
That afternoon I decided to get off at a later bus stop. I wanted to enjoy the walk through the park, but more importantly I wanted there to be no chance I'd stumble across Ethan or his kids. His gloating the other night had been bad enough.
When I got home, Alex was seated cross-legged on the large fluffy rug, perfect posture, a large textbook in his lap. He looked up, irritated. I breezed past him and made for the shower.
I brushed my hair straight, selected the most virginal of my many dresses, tested my contrite smile before the mirror, and returned to the living room.
'Make it quick.'
I steadied myself, clenching my fists.
'I know what I did was wrong, but please don't tell the parents. I feel awful, really awful. It hurts so badly that you now see me a certain way. Please, I'm begging you.'
I searched his face for a sign of his softening, but he was inscrutable. He sighed, dropped his head, and when he raised it again, his face was set.
'It's not a matter of how you or how I feel about it. It's about what is right. They must know the truth.'
'Please, don't do this.'
I got to my knees, and stumbled towards him. He recoiled, and I toppled over, clutching at his body. He shifted uncomfortably, but I collapsed further on to him. He was warm and the skin on his arms felt somehow electric. It had been years since we'd been physically so entwined. I reached out a hand instinctively to grasp at his back.
'Please,' I repeated, softer now.
He levered me off and edged to the side. I was now slumped on the floor.
'I'm sorry,' he said curtly. I twisted my head up at him and finally looked properly in to his eyes. I saw finality.
----
The night was long. I couldn't distract myself, and thought only of my waiting doom. I opened and shut my mouth wordlessly, pleading with my pillow, I scratched and tore at my sheets, I gasped for air.
I checked my phone.
Somehow it was only 9 pm.
Ethan's stupid face leered at me from my contact list. I wanted to punch him.
I stumbled to the bathroom and bent my head to drink direct from the tap. I stopped outside Alex's room. Placed my hand on its wood. I had to try one last time.
I barged through this time. He was lying down, head propped up, a smile on his face as he used his phone.
'You're going to listen to me,' I said, voice raised. A jumble of words shouted in my mind. I advanced on the bed as he watched, a tiny trace of smugness now written on his face.
'You're going to listen to me,' I repeated, this time shouting. He sat up properly, alert now, as if waiting the next act of my little performance. The angry words still jostled, but I couldn't choose one. I felt powerless.
He reached for my wrists and held them.
'You're embarrassing yourself,' he said.
The truth of it struck me. I nodded sadly.
It was then that I noticed that same electric feeling across my skin. A bright feeling, lighting a pathway out of this mess. I shook my hand free from his now slacked fingers, and draped it down his firm chest. Moistened my lips. Remembered all the times I'd marvelled at him, and at my luck, to have him as a brother.
A strange expression crossed his face.
'Don't you fucking touch me like that slut,' he said, his voice like ice.
I jumped.
'Alex,' I tried to talk. I reached for him again, this time lower.
I felt a crack across my cheek and the world went white. He had slapped me. My ears were ringing, my face was burning. I could hear someone crying, shrieking even, and knew that it was me. I fell to the floor. He stood over me, his eyes barely seeing me, barely seeing a person.
I don't remember how I got back to my room, but I did. This time the hours flew by. My sobs lengthened and shortened, my body ached with a pain so total that I thought it would crumble to dust.
Then a tiny voice spoke in my head.
Why did he look at you like that