A Second Older Brother

It was 12:23 AM and I was wide awake, teeth chattering away as I talked a mile per minute. I knew it wouldn't be too long before I'd have to attempt to drive home. My friend, Amanda, was slowly drifting asleep and as the clock ticked the time drew closer when her mom would be home.

"I have nowhere to goooo," I whined, bouncing up and down on her bed.

"Go to Michael's," she replied, rolling over to face the wall so she could close her eyes without me complaining.

I bit my lower lip. "Except I told him I wouldn't do anymore speed. He threatened me within inches of my life."

"I don't know where you could go, then, but I'm tired as hell and I have class in the morning."

That was the hint to leave. "I know. Thanks for letting me hang out at your place!"

"No problem. Go home and avoid your parents. And be careful, okay?" she said, looking over at me.

"I'm always careful," I lied, patting her on the head and skipping away.

I was met with the crisp autumn air as I stepped out of her house. It was mid-October, a week from my birthday, and my favorite month of the year. Yet, I still couldn't find any sort of comfort in it. It seemed like something was always going wrong, my days were always terrible. Someone always had it out for me. It just wasn't worth going through the days sober. At least I was still alive and kicking, huh?

It took me a minute to get into my car and start it and everything, then I started being paranoid about the police.

"Shit, I can't go home," I said aloud, to no one in particular. I lived at least twenty miles from Amanda's house, while the duplex that Michael shared with his friend, Ashton, was only a couple of blocks away. I decided to try and go home, but after driving ten miles under the speed limit for two minutes, I got fed up and went towards Michael's place.

As if my heart wasn't thumping enough, I crept nervously up the sidewalk to the door of my friend's house. The lights were off, but I could see the tv flashing through the window. Ashton was always up at late. He was a natural night owl and made all of his classes for the afternoon so he could sleep in.

I tapped gently on the door. He stirred inside the living room, turning on the porch light then unhooking the chain and opening the door.

"Jesus, Kathryn, you scared the piss out of me!" he exclaimed in a whisper since the neighbors were probably sleeping.

I was sort of coming down from my high and my teeth were chattering and grinding like crazy. It was driving me nuts. "Sorry. I need a place to crash. Can I stay here?"

"Sure. Your brother's not here, though. He went to visit Christy for fall break." Christy was his girlfriend... someone he went to high school with, who went to college in North Carolina.

I nodded. "That's okay," I said, walking inside. It was probably colder inside their duplex than it was outside, since they didn't have central heating. I shivered slightly, still grinding my teeth.

"Are you okay?" he asked, noticing that something was up.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Rough day."

"Something's different," he concluded.

I shrugged.

"Are you cold?" he asked, leading me towards the futon that he slept on. He sat on the bed then pulled me towards him, wrapping me in the blanket. "Kathryn... you're scaring me."

"I'm fine," I said, shivering and snuggling in the blanket.

"Don't you have school in the morning?"

"I can't go. I'm too sick."

"You're sweating like crazy. How can you be so cold?"

"I don't know. I'm scared. I don't want to die."

"Why would you be dying?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me.

"Because I took some pills."

"You did what?" he asked, sitting up in the bed to look me in the eyes.

I wouldn't have it though. I couldn't stare at him. The hurt and disappointment was too much. "I took some damn amphetamines."

"I thought you were through with that shit?"

"I thought so, too," I said, feeling shittier by the moment. I stared at the tv, a tear slipping down my cheek. "It's been a bad week."

"Talk to me, baby," he said, holding me close. "Talk to me and everything's gonna be all right. You're going to be just fine," he cooed as if he were talking to a child during a frightening thunderstorm.

"I don't know. It's just everything feels so fucked up sometimes."

"I know. You're okay. Try and get some sleep, okay? I want to have a talk with you in the morning about this."

I nodded weakly, engulfing his hug for all it was worth. That was one good thing about having an older brother... he had friends who were just like older brothers, too, who could substitute when my real brother was away.

I don't know how I managed to sleep. Everything was dizzy and blurry and I was going frantic with my teeth chattering. But Ashton was there all night and he held me close, promising me that I'd be okay. I kept having weird dreams that woke me up each time, gasping for air. And Ashton was still there, still holding me.

I never actually got any great sleep. Just enough to where when I woke up and it was daylight, I felt like it was time to get up.

At this time, Ashton was no longer at my side, but in the kitchen talking in a pair of jeans and a blue hoodie, putting poptarts in the toaster.

"Hey," I mumbled, sitting up for a second then deciding to lie back down.

"Oh, hey," he answered, pouring himself a glass of milk. "Are you feeling better?"

"Not really."

"I'd imagine not... looked like you got yourself pretty fucked up last night."

I groaned, almost having forgotten that I'd told him that. "Please don't tell Michael."

"Oh, I'm not going to tell him," he said, grabbing the poptarts from the toaster and putting them on a plate, looking at me. "You are."

"Wait, that's no fair!" I said, sitting up to look at him, then giving up, once again, not having the strength. "I can't tell him. He'll be so mad."

"Well, I'm not thrilled, either."

"But I didn't have anywhere to go or neither of you would have to know."

"If you hadn't taken the pills, you wouldn't have needed any place to go," he told me, munching on his poptart. "And anyway, brothers always have a strange way of finding stuff out."

I pouted, still grinding my teeth.

The room was silent for a moment while he finished his poptarts and drank his milk. "I'm disappointed in you," he told me.

"I'm disappointed in me, too."

"What's the deal? Why'd you have to go back to that shit?"

I shrugged, staring at the ceiling.

"You know, you could kill yourself, or go to jail..."

"Nobody would care."

He came towards me, his tall figure looming over me, gazing in my eyes. "I would care."

A tear was struggling to slip down my cheek, but I wouldn't let it. "Why would anyone care about me?"

"Because you're a special person. You're a good friend and I've known you forever. You're like my own sister. And I'm not going to listen to you talk like that, Kathryn."

"Whatever," I whispered, still fighting the tears.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said, plopping down on the futon next to me.

I lay my head in his lap, letting him play with my hair. "I don't know what's wrong."

"Have you been taking your meds?"

"No."

"What did I tell you about that?"

I bit my lower lip, not even bothering to look up at him because I knew he'd be giving me a look that would make my stomach churn. "That if you heard of me not taking my meds you'd spank the daylights out of me."

"You've got a good memory," he said and I knew he smiled slightly, even if I was taking a liking to staring at the carpet. "And if I remember correctly, I also said the same thing about if you took speed again, didn't I?"

I nodded.

"Guess you know what that means."

I looked towards him. "You're going to spank me?" I asked, this time, letting a tear slip down my cheek.

He nodded softly.

"But... Ashton..." I began, trying to think of a good argument. "I won't do it again..."

"And that's what you said last time. And that's what you'll say next time. But there's not going to be a next time because I'm going to show you that I mean business."

I just stared at him for a moment, until he lifted me from his lap, pulling me off the futon, and finally moving his hands towards the button of my jeans.

"Ashton, please.." I begged, trying to block him from taking my pants down.

"Move your hands," he ordered, and when I didn't budge, he slapped them mildly, which got me to move them.

He roughly unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, then tugged them down to the floor. I felt a cool breeze on the back of my legs. "Please don't spank me, Ashton.." I'd only been spanked by him once before, and it hadn't been a pleasant experience. Firstly, it's not cool when you get spanked, much less by your older brother's best friend, not to mention that he's a hottie... and secondly, he pulled my pants down which is always reallllly embarrassing.

"Should've thought about that last night," he answered, pulling me over his lap.

I lay my head down, knowing that I deserved this, no matter how much I didn't want it. He pulled my panties down to my knees and started slapping my bottom mildly.

"There are other ways to cope with bad days, Kathryn," he began lecturing, getting a definite rhythm as I winced with each smack.

"I know," I replied.

"Amphetamines are illegal and dangerous. What the hell was going on through your mind?"

"Ooowwww... I don't knowww," I groaned, kicking slightly.

"And I'm not at all happy with the fact that you drove under the influence. *That* is even more dangerous and more illegal. Do you *want* to go to jail? Do you want to kill yourself or someone else?"

"Noooo," I whined.

"What you did last night was very irresponsible, Young Lady, and I'm very disappointed in you."

My stomach turned with that statement and I began the crying, even though he was only spanking mildly. It wasn't the pain that was bothering me as much as the way I'd hurt him and disappointed him. He was one of my best friends and I'd known him forever. He cared about me so much, and I let him down in the worst way possible.

He stopped smacking for a little while, resting his hand on my bottom. "What are you going to do next time you're having a rough time?"

"Not drugsss," I cried.

He slapped my bottom hard. "And why not?"

"Because it's dangerous and stupid," I sniffed.

He swatted me a few more times, this time paying particular attention to my sitspots. By this time, I was bawling like a baby and kicking like crazy. My face was buried into the blankets on the futon and my hands were clutching onto the mattress for dear life.

"I'm sorry," I howled.

"I'm glad, because I'm not going to tolerate this. You are a smart young lady and I'm not going to see you waste it on drugs. You're not going to end up a bum on the streets selling your body for drugs. You're too smart and talented to do that, do you understand me?"

"Yessss."

He delivered a final flurry of hard smacks to my bottom then stopped, resting his hand there as I cried for my life. He didn't let me cry alone for long, because before I knew it, he was helping my panties up and gathering me in his arms. He sat me in his lap, throwing his arms around me and pulling me close to his chest, letting me sob for all it was worth. I cried because I was disappointed in myself, and he was disappointed in me, and my brother would be upset and there actually was the chance that I could screw up my life on drugs. And I cried because someone actually cared when I had always been scared that they didn't.

I must have cried for at least thirty minutes, but Ashton didn't mind. He just kept me in his arms, stroking my hair softly and rocking me back and forth, assuring me that everything was fine. Even after I stopped crying, he was still there, lying with me on the futon with his arm around my stomach, while we watched tv. We didn't speak much for a long time, just his reassuring comments about everything being okay.

"I'm really sorry," I said, breaking the silence and rolling over to look at him.

"I know. I just worry about you."

"I know," I said, feeling ashamed of myself.

He lifted my chin to look in his eyes. "Please don't do this again," he begged.

"I won't... I promise," I replied and hugged onto him tightly.