Cigarette Secrets

“Christian Dixon give me back my bra now!” I hollered at the imbecile that held my boob container in his strong grip. Every time I tried to reach for it, he’d quickly move it out the way, hovering up above my head and out the reach of my short height. Even if I jump, I still wouldn’t be able to retrieve it.

I had been chasing my stupid big brother around for almost an hour, bumping into tables and knocking over chairs, trying to get possession of my bra back. Whilst I was changing in my bathroom, I caught him red handed trying to steal it without my noticing, so I jumped on his back. He shook me off, running out of my room, laughing evilly as he did.

“I told you I will give it back…when we have finished with it. The more time you waste trying to take it, the longer you’ll go without I’m afraid,” Christian disciplined me like I was a child. In fact, he is older than me by only nine months, but my mental age is higher than he can count.

“I don’t even see why you need it!” I retorted, my tired arms dangling by my side and my breath laboured from the excessive amount of exercise I had endured. I’m surprised no one has come down to see what all the screaming is about, but then again, it’s a regular occurrence in this house.

“I told you already, we need to use it for an experiment.” He told me, a smug expression slapped against his clear pale skin with a smirk embedded into his lips.

“You keep droning on and on about this stupid experiment. I mean, a project? Really? Excuse the fact you almost never do your homework, but school starts next week, you moron and we didn’t have any homework!” Still somewhat annoyed, I stomped my heel onto his sock-clad foot and he yelped as if he was an injured puppy.

“I never said it was a school project, did I?!”

“I never said you could use my bra as a water balloon sling shot! You’re almost seventeen, when will you grow up?!”

“But Michael gets back today and I wanted to…surprise him.”

I sighed, taking his free hand and leading him to the couch where we both slumped down. I looked him in the eye with a frown.

“Chris, you can’t go around flinging rotten egg balloons at people, especially out of my bra. No matter how much they deserve it.” I whispered the last part but I knew Christian still heard it. It was shown by the sadness that washed through his blue eyes as his laugh lines unwrinkled. “I can get into so much trouble if he snitched on us, he’ll say I put you up to it and we will both suffer. I just want this all to end and forget it ever happened.” I whined into my hands that were covering my face. Exasperation was one of the many emotions that come easily to the people who talk to Christian Dixon- a big baby who doesn’t listen to a word you tell him or a task you tell him to do.

“But…but just this once, then we’ll stop, I promise. No more balloons, no more spray paint, no more pranks. It will all stop if you let me do this one last time. I want to make the bastard pay, y’know, teach him a few things.” Pleading eyes met mine and I just emotionlessly stare back. Chris sure is a handful sometimes.

“I think he learned his lesson when you put super glue in his shower gel after football practice,” I quietly chuckled along with my brother as we each relived the day that lead to a string of vengeful payback pranks that him and his twin creatively think of. “His hands were stuck to his underarms. It was so funny that he couldn’t even touch another girl if he wanted to.”

I probably should explain. Michael, also known as ‘bastard’, was a former boyfriend of mine (even the word had my tongue straining to pronounce it), but still is, a well-loved, valued player of the football team. Sadly a player with the ladies too. It all happened when Mike noticed me in junior year as he was one of my brothers’ teammates -and friend- and he soon started to notice my existence. It progressed from there and we hung out more and eventually became a couple. In my eyes he was the golden boy- capable of doing no wrong. I was too loved up to see what was going on before my eyes and that damaged me permanently, slashing my heart into pathetic little pieces. So when I found his tongue down some sluts throat at the Christmas party a few weeks back, my opinion of him quickly plummeted. It’s fair to say I dropped him quicker than a hot plate after I saw the explicit scene. I was left heartbroken and vowed never to make the same mistake again. Since then, my big brothers have been taking their revenge and bringing ‘closure’ to this painful chapter in my life.

“Where’s Rhydian, anyway?” I asked my brother where his twin was because I was slowly growing suspicious of his whereabouts. Usually you wouldn’t see the twins one without the other unless one was out with a girl.

“Out buying the eggs and balloons with the guys.” The guys meant his football friends and I laughed outright. Everyone must hate Michael.

“So that’s a yes then?” Christian stood abruptly with a fresh grin plastered on his face as he walked up the hallway, his coat already on and his shoes messily tied.

“Pretend I didn’t see you and try not to get arrested this time!” I called out to him as he left the house through the front door, my undergarments hanging out of his jacket pocket. I heard a faint reply of ‘get the bail money ready just in case’, and I simply rolled my eyes.

Our family has a swear jar that sits comfortably on the shelf of the fireplace, already nearly overflowing with dollar notes. Pretty self-explanatory, just instead of sharing the money when it gets full, we use it for our current needs. Most of the time, it’s used as bail money for when Chris feels devious and ready to cause mischief. Other times, it’s used for gifts, groceries and trip money. The transparent jar is almost full for the third time this month but I don’t doubt it for a second;

My siblings cuss a lot.

I glanced at the digital clock on the pearl mantelpiece, which displayed the time and date, and sighed.

January 1st 2017 - - - 12.45 pm

Four more days left of rest until a new year starts at school. The place where all judgemental peers will be spending several hours gossiping and chatting, where everyone will be drooling over my brothers and sisters and turning a blind eye to me… and most importantly, where Michael and Saint Slut will be.

Awesome.

* * *

“Esther!”

“Esther wake up! It’s an emergency!”

“ESTHER!”

As I shot up from my comfortable sleeping position in blind panic, I was harshly slapped in the face with one of my soft decorative pillows. I looked ahead to see my three identical sisters greet me with their hands on their hips and their natural golden hair in various positions, clamped together with giant clips to keep it in place.

“What is it? What’s the problem?” I rushed out, worried about what could possibly be wrong. It couldn’t be about the twins because they don’t get up until the very last second and I have to call the heavy sleepers to breakfast.

“School starts in an hour and I look like a homeless Hagrid! Where are the straighteners?” my eldest sister Celia panicked, even though the trio don’t need to wear makeup or do their hair- they all inherited the gorgeous gene. If they wanted to, they could just spritz some deodorant and go to school in their pyjamas- which Carolynn has done before.

“In my top drawer, under the heat mat, where it always is.” I mumbled tiredly and simply smiled at the other two, receiving them back, though Carolynn was more interested in her phone.

Let me introduce my older triplet sisters, who are the stars of my family. The oldest by seven minutes is Celia- she’s what is describe as prissy and a horrible perfectionist. Ceils always has to look her best and wouldn’t be seen dead without even a spot of concealer on her pristine skin. She likes to wear quite girly clothes and loves to watch rom-com movies on Netflix, the complete opposite to my middle sister, Carolynn.

Carolynn is the punk-rock Barbie type of girl, not heavily grungy to be deemed ‘unfeminine’ but enough to sometimes scare or intimidate people. She can speak up to four languages and plays guitar really well. Though she’s more punk than the other two, Carolynn kept her blond hair to match her sisters as they all vowed to never change it.

Lastly, there’s Clarissa, the in-between girl of the two. Just like her sisters, she has shimmering blond hair, but hers is snipped short to her shoulders and curled, the odd braid dangling in her luscious locks. Though she is the youngest, Clarissa is more mature than the others, always keeping them in line and using her happiness to settle any kind of disagreements the other two have towards each other. Her peace-loving nature inspires her hippy entire and quirky personality she has about her.

“Morning Est! Having breakfast today?” Clarissa asked chirpily with a big smile plastered across her petite features.

“Sure, tell Aunt Valerie I’ll be down in a minute. Now in the nicest way possible, can you guys please leave? I want to get ready without an audience. I don’t particularly feel safe having people in my room when I’m not here.” I answered after the incident a few days previous including my idiot brothers. Thankfully, I’d like to report that no one was arrested this time.

“Oh, you know about Chris using your bra as a boob-balloon launcher, then?” Carolynn asked with a sly smile sneaking on her black lipstick covered mouth. I was slightly taken back about how she knew and judging by the others smile, they did too.

“Yeah I caught him in my room, how do you know about it?” I questioned, on the verge of laughing at the thought of my brother with my underwear in his pocket the other day.

“Who do you think gave him the idea?” She winked and Celia giggled as they all strutted out, laughing down the stairs of my attic bedroom until their footsteps and voices were mere echoes on the second floor below.

I sighed and swung my legs over the warm covers of my bed, ready to get changed for school and start the New Year.

I opened my door and went across the small stretch of hallway to my brothers shared bedroom. The twins and I share the converted attic to ourselves, halving the space into two rooms and a bathroom, while my sisters had their own rooms the second floor along with my aunt and uncle. On the first floor was the lounge, kitchen, dining room and study and in the basement was the games room which had games consoles and a mini gym, where mostly we hang out.

My bedroom was pretty basic with just plain grey walls and navy bed covers and curtains. I had shelves upon shelves of books, posters of all my favourite bands and a small television perched on the top of my dresser. My vinyl record player was in Clarissa’s room and my craft stuff was still in the study.

All my siblings’ rooms were customised the way they wanted theirs and sometimes Carolynn paints on her walls, much to my auntie’s dismay.

I knocked loudly three times before barging into my brothers’ pig sty of a bedroom. Christian and Rhydian shared their room and it resembles a man cave with posters of cars and women wearing napkins of clothing. The room is also navy blue- the love for the colour is something we share in common- and they have their own bunkbeds on the opposing walls from each other. Walking in, you see double as each side of the room mirror but they share their bathroom. It’s exactly the same except Rhydian’s side is neat and tidy while his twin’s is the complete opposite.

Like our usual routine when I wake up, I walk into their room and wake them up too.

First I went to Rhydian’s side, the bed closest to the door, but he wasn’t there and his bed was tidily made with his pillows stacked neatly. He must be downstairs already, but couldn’t be bothered to wake his brother. So I turned on my heel and walked to the other side.

“Chris, wake up. Time for hell.” I coaxed in a sing song voice, edging closer and closer to his bed, the wooden floorboards creaking under each step I take towards him. I could hear his faint snores and smell his pungent cologne from where I was stood, not to mention I could see all of the dirty clothes sprawled across the open floor and hanging out of the drawers of his oak dresser; a pair of his boxers on the end of his desk chair.

“Chrissy…” I leaned down to his ear, ready to shout in it as I usually did, however I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

I screamed as Christian wrapped his muscular arms around me and dragged me into his chest. I batted his arms but they didn’t stop the solid grip he had on me. With one arm, he reached down and tickled my sides, causing a yelp to escape out of my open mouth.

“S-Stop, I-ah! - I can’t breathe!” I gasped as his fingers ground harder into my ribs.

“What did I say about calling me Chrissy, huh?” he whispered in my ear as his gross morning breath swept onto my face and up my nose.

He continued to torture me and there was nothing I could do but to just let it happen. But then I screamed once more and my saviour came to my rescue what seemed like hours of tickling later. Better late than never I suppose.

“Come here kiddo, I got you.” My uncle Leo laughed as he swept me up in his arms and hurled me over his shoulder, fireman style. I pounded his back as he continued to talk to my brother, pretending I was invisible.

“You got thirty minutes Chris.” Was all that I heard him say over my heavy breathing. Then Leo took me out and returned me to my room, plopping me safely on the ground, feet first.

My uncle Leo was a tall man with mousey brown hair and grey stubble lining his sharp jaw. It’s crazy how much he looks like my father even though they differ in age. Uncle Leo is a mechanic and owns his own garage a few streets away, which my dad gave him before he moved away.

“Thanks Uncle Leo. He goes mad when I call him Chrissy.” We both chuckled and he turned to leave.

“No problem kiddo, I came up to tell you to get your butt down stairs for breakfast. You’ll need it today, starting school and everything.” He replied over his shoulder as he thumped down the hollow steps that lead to the second floor.

* * *

As I followed the route my uncle took earlier, I lazily swung my backpack over my shoulder and continued my journey, I couldn’t help but notice the laughing downstairs and I cringed as the regular feeling rippled through me.

I feel like such an outcast to the family in more ways than one. Not that I’m saying they can only laugh when I am there, because I’m not, but I always feel so excluded from them and I don’t know why. I know they all love me, as it’s shown every day but these little things build up over time.

Take my siblings for example; the triplets have beautiful blonde hair and mesmerising emerald eyes. Though each one differs in personality, they all have their quirks and are so close.

Next, the twins. The boys have blue eyes and fluffy light brown hair, the same as my uncle and auntie, however, not the same as me.

Me, myself and I, have dark, straight, boring hair that reaches just below my collar bone, with peaky skin and bland grey eyes. I resemble absolutely no one in my family; not even my dad.

I’ve seen pictures of my mother because the last time I saw her was when I was a baby and obviously, I have no recollection of her at all. The last time I saw her was on my birthday, when she died giving birth to me. Another reason I feel so wrong to be here/ is every birthday is not a celebration. I killed my mother and the day she died won’t be a day to celebrate, but a day to mourn. Apparently, mum had heart problems that caused my premature birth, but I still feel slightly guilty.

“Esther, what are you doing stood there in the middle of the hallway?” Asked a low but chirpy voice behind me and I jumped a mile in fright. I turned around to reveal it was just Rhydian with his hair wet and dripping water droplets onto his nose. He must’ve just come out of the shower.

“Nothing, just thinking about how I really don’t want to be in school.” I sighed, only half joking.

“I’ll tell you what, if you make it the entire day with a smile on your face, I’ll take you to Freddie’s after school for ice cream. Sound good?” Rhydian bargained and I thought it over for a second.

Freddie’s ice cream diner was the best in town, incredibly pricey but worthwhile. I hadn’t gone for a painfully long time and my older brother knew a way to my heart.

“Deal.” I replied, not really thinking about it and shaking his outstretched hand with a grin.

He gave me a once over and slowly nodded at my outfit, letting a humoured smile escape onto his chapped lips.

“Black is the new colour, I guess.” He laughed, “Est, what are you doing dressed like Carolynn? You look as if you are going to a funeral. C’mon, it’s our junior year in school, lighten up and have a new look.”

“It’s not that bad,” I said as I looked down at my back skinny jeans and dark grey band t-shirt, which was tucked into them, read: The Beatles. John Lennon’s face always found a way to make me smile. “I don’t see anything wrong with it. Not that I personally care what I look like.”

Rhydian simply sighed and ushered me down the second flight of stairs and into the kitchen, where all my family were sat at the island situated in the middle, plates of steaming food in front of them.

Without a word, I grabbed a plate of waffles and parked my butt down on a stool next to Celia, who had a healthy granola bar instead. Clarissa had her usual vegan fruit salad while Carolynn drowned her pancakes in chocolatey syrup. I took small bites of my breakfast and within two minutes my plate was empty, no trace of food left.

“You’re not going to get any skinnier, you know.” Celia rudely pointed out and wrinkled her nose in disgust when she saw what Caro and I had done. I’m not particularly skinny but I’m not exactly big either, though sometimes, it does get to me.

“Good job I’m not trying then, isn’t it?” Carolynn retorted and rubbed her hands together before devouring the sweet calories that were piled high on her plate. She couldn’t give a damn about what she looked like.

“Well on that lovely note, we’re heading to school.” Christian piped as he swung his car keys around his index finger, with Rhydian already heading out the door. The boys always leave earlier than the girls so they can carpool with their football buddies… and Michael.

I took one look at my sisters who claim that being fashionably late is the way to go, wondering if waiting for a ride and getting detention was really worth avoiding Michael. But I don’t want a detention on the first day… was it worth the risk?

Just as the front door was about to slam shut, I jumped from my stool and shouted.

“WAIT!”

* * *

“I hurt my knee when I fell for you.”

“Fall a little harder then, but try your face.”

“What if I rearranged the alphabet and put U and I together?”

“You’d have more luck putting F and U together.”

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“Yes, I’m an angel; I died many centuries ago from the Black Death and tomorrow’s my 400th birthday.”

“Did-“

“Aiden, shut up!” All of us shouted at the pervert that has not shut up since we stopped at his house and picked him up. We were almost at school, finally picking up what felt like the entire national football team and it was growing awkward considering Michael was here too. I have no idea why the twins have to pick him up, probably something to do with them not being able to exclude him, but what’s worse is I was sat in front the idiot.

Christian sat shotgun while Rhydian was driving, (obviously, it’s his car), Aiden the Sex Dork was sat next to me in the second row, squashing me up against the driver side window. Myself, Ely, Axel and Aiden were sat in the middle row but because of the lack of seats, I was sat on Aiden’s lap, trapped in a plethora of stupid pickup lines and disgusting euphemisms. Lucky Michael, Parker and Jordan were all piled into the back row, laughing at something Parker was saying. However, Mike wasn’t laughing, his eyes never left the back of my head. I saw every time I looked into the mirror, his sorrowful gaze locked onto my back. I just ignored it.

Aiden didn’t shut up for the rest of the ride and I felt I would rather be sat in the back with Mike, than listen to him.

When we pulled up to the school parking lot, I jumped out and gasped a breath of fresh air, getting as far away as I could, managing to hide behind my twin brothers for protection.

From now on, I’m never going to carpool with my brothers again, no matter how desperate I am.