It Ends Where It Starts

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“Aislinn. Aislinn Meckenzie. Aislinn.”

I had to open my eyes no matter how much I didn’t want to, because that was my wake-up call. I looked up to see John looking at me and smiling while caressing my hair. I’d noticed I was already lying on the couch, and there was no one else in the living room but us. I didn’t want to sit up because I loved it when he touched my hair. It just made me feel calm.

“Where are the guys?” I asked him.

“They went to a party at Josh’s house,” he replied. “And they’re expecting us, too, so you better go get ready, baby sis.” He stood up and pulled me up as well.

“I don’t wanna go,” I whined. “I just wanna sleep.”

“C’mon, Ace.” He rolled his eyes. “Even Shane and Ross are there. And Mom’s out doing grocery, so you’ll be left alone here if you don’t go with me. I don’t want that, so just get ready.”

I knew John wasn’t gonna give me an option, so I just did as he said. He never really liked it whenever I did something alone, or whenever I went out alone. So if I wanted to go to the salon, and no one wanted to go with me, and he was around, he would.

I changed into a pair of jeans and a white off-shoulder top, and my dark blue flats. I put my phone into my pocket as I rushed down the stairs. I saw John texting when I got there.

“Let’s go,” I said. We locked the house and got into his car, and he started driving as soon as I buckled up.

I knew exactly where Josh Montgomery’s house was, since we’d been there often for parties. So I was wondering why John was taking a different route. I shrugged it off, thinking it was a shortcut, and just opened the radio. We sang along to The Killers’ Mr. Brightside and a lot of other songs after that one, as he continued to drive.

But as soon as I saw that curve, I stopped. I wanted to jump off the car, like some scared girl in the movie who was about to get raped and killed.

“Fuck you!” I exclaimed at John as he parked the car behind Garrett’s car, which was pretty noticeable because of its color. “Fuck you! How could you do this to me?!” I whined angrily.

John rolled his eyes. “Did I poison you or something? It’s just Stephen’s house, it’s not like I brought you to a slaughterhouse,” he said.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you acquire amnesia or something? ‘Cause it seems to me like you’ve forgotten how much I hate him!” I snapped.

John chuckled. “Would you chill? I swear it’s the last time we’ll be over this house,” he said.

“Make that a promise, John,” I growled as I unbuckled my seatbelt.

“I promise this will be the last time we’ll go to this house,” he said, his right arm raised. I shot him a death glare before I got out of the car.

We started walking towards his house, and I wanted to do nothing but go home. If a few hours ago, I wanted to see him again so I could tease him, now, I didn’t. I just wanted to get away from him after that scene where he just barged into my room like it was his.

As soon as John and I entered, he began socializing with his friends. Well, after he made sure someone was with me, that is. By someone, I meant the other John—John Gomez.

“I hope I never see your brother tonight, John,” were the first words I told him that evening. He just laughed, perfectly aware of the hatred Stephen and I shared. Actually, everyone was aware of that.

“With your luck, though, he might just be walking over here this moment,” he said, and before I could even turn around, I heard his voice.

“Wow, you came! I must say, this is a pleasant surprise,” he said. I rolled my eyes at his pathetic attempt to sound formal. I didn’t want to turn around, but I did. Full-force, even.

“I was tricked,” I snapped. “John told me we were going to Josh’s house. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He smirked as he brought his cup onto his lips and sipped his drink. “I try to be nice and this is what I get,” he said with a dramatic sigh.

“Oh my God, did you just say nice? That word is actually in your vocabulary?” I exclaimed, feigning shock. He smirked once more—because that was all he ever did—and decided to play my game.

“My vocabulary is full of colourful, wonderful words,” he said.

I smiled slyly at him. “So, how would you say this in a colourful way—checked someone out?” I asked innocently. His smirk turned into a frown.

“I didn’t check you out,” he snapped. “Get over yourself.”

“Oh, but I didn’t say any names,” I said, pretending to be confused.

“Really, Aislinn? Really?” he tried, knowing how much I hated him saying my name.

“Really, that’s the best you can do?” I smirked and shook my head at his tightening jaw. “I’ll go get myself a drink. You stay away from me for the rest of the night. Or forever.”

I walked away from him, and did as I said. I poured the contents of the big blue pitcher into a cup until it was full, and then I sipped it. And then I froze for a while after tasting it. I looked down and saw that my drink was between the colors red and pink. Of course. Of course he knew I was gonna come so he did this. Of course he just had to. Of course.

I surveyed the crowd and found him across me, at the exact place I’d left him. He smirked as soon as he met my eyes, brought his cup up, and then winked at me before drinking. There was nothing more I wanted to do than to throw up and go home.

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I wasn’t even drunk that evening, but John insisted we stayed over because he was apparently too drunk to drive, and although I’d repeatedly offered to drive, he refused. He didn’t have faith in my driving skills, especially at night. Not after I’d bumped into a small fruit stall one time when I was driving home from the salon with him. No one else but me was sober enough to drive that night, but my brothers didn’t want to take any chances of, and I quote, “getting killed drunk”.

So of course, we had to stay over until John was good to go. Which was, considering it was John, after an 8-hour sleep and two cups of coffee. And my other brothers weren’t any better—they needed at least 12 hours of sleep.

Everyone was sprawled everywhere—in the living room, the kitchen, even the stairs. I didn’t have the slightest idea where I could stay, and it wasn’t like I could ask John Gomez since he was nowhere to be found. He was probably asleep already. And his dick of a brother was missing as well.

I sighed heavily, wishing I had gone home with Jess an hour ago—back when I’d thought we could still go home since Ross was still sober enough to drive. I cursed him in my mind for getting drunk, and John as well for bringing me at the Gomez’ residence.

I started going up the stairs carefully, wanting to see if John Gomez was in his room, so I could just crash there. I hoped I wouldn’t wake anyone up, so I just decided to tiptoe. But unfortunately, when I reached the topmost stair, the door at the end of the hallway opened, and out he came.

His hair was pointing everywhere, and his eyes didn’t look like he’d just woken up. So I guessed he had sex with someone, because I couldn’t find any other explanation to why his hair looked that way. It was probably with Melissa, that girl had been crushing on him since their band became famous.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a sober voice as he walked towards me, and I was surprised why he wasn’t drunk. Almost everyone was—except the ones that had left an hour ago.

“Looking for your brother’s room,” I answered simply.

“You wanna rape him?” he accused, not smirking. His face was just unemotional.
I rolled my eyes, “I want to sleep, okay. There’s no more space downstairs, so I just decided to crash into his room. Like what you, Kenny, and John did, remember?” I snapped.

“Just go to my room,” he said. I froze. What was he...

He just stared at me like I was a freak, and I probably looked like one, because I was just gaping at him the whole time like he’d suggested something that wouldn’t happen even after the world turned around. Then his face lit up in realization, and he rolled his eyes.
“I’ll stay at John’s room,” he snapped.

I still didn’t budge. “But...but how about your...you know...” I trailed off, hoping he got what I meant.

“What?” he asked, looking tired and aggravated.

“Your girl,” I said in a low voice. “The girl you just had sex with in your room.”

He looked appalled, and I could tell his face was asking how I could come up with something like that. “The fuck,” he snapped. “I didn’t have sex with anyone. I was asleep. What’s wrong with you?!”

“Your eyes didn’t look like you’d just woken up,” I retorted.

“Oh, so you’re the one checking me out now?” he snapped back.

“I was observing!” I exclaimed, wanting to hit every part of his body. “And did you just admit to checking me out?!” I said, deciding to turn the tables back to him.

“Are we really getting into this now? I’m tired,” he said in a clearly annoyed voice. “Just go to my room. It’s clean. I don’t have a contagious disease or something.”

“Yeah, being bipolar isn’t exactly contagious,” I muttered. He just looked blankly at me like he didn’t hear what I’d said, but I knew he did.

“Just go,” he said—ordered, rather.

I still didn’t budge. I figured he was just gonna have this over me the next morning. He’d be all like You slept in my room and everyone would just tease me non-stop about it. But I was tired as well, probably as much as he was, so I really didn’t have any choice.

“If you value your pride too much and don’t want to take this offer, you’re very much welcome to stand there all night long,” he snapped, pointing to where I was standing at. I pouted at him before finally walking towards his room. He walked behind me, and I figured he was going to his brother’s. It wasn’t until after he’d reached his brother’s doorstep that I turned around, looked at him, and said in a muffled voice, “Thanks.”

I had doubts upon whether he’d heard it or not, but my question was answered when he said, “You’re welcome,” under his breath, while turning the knob. Then he walked in, closed the door, and I was left there looking at where he had been standing.