Spilled Paint and Whisper Melodies

"First day, huh? Nervous?" Her voice floated over the room stuffed with boxes still unpacked. It was like she could see everything when I put her on speakerphone, or maybe she just knew me too well and could figure things out just by the sounds of my rampaging through the rooms. I was rushing and trying to put everything together last minute, like always, it already being late, and somehow, someway, she knew every detail of my morning just by listening...

Maybe I'm a little too transparent.

"I'm not nervous, why would I have any reason to be?" I shot back to the phone as an answer when I left the room again to get the rest of my notes I left in the study only a wall and open door away. I could hear her laughter echo through the halls as I hurried back and shoved the papers into my briefcase along with many other things that were probably unnecessary.

"Well, this isn't a college, Jace, these are kids. You can't just tell them which chapter to read, leave the room for coffee and expect them to have it done by tomorrow morning. You actually have to teach..." She trailed off into her snickering again when she heard me drop a stack of notes onto the kitchen floor and groan when they scattered about. I cursed in frustration, which, no doubt, she also heard. Ultimately I just decided to leave them there, there wasn't any time left and they weren't important. I had to go now or I'd be really late.

"Viv, I appreciate your concern, but I can teach teenagers." The briefcase shut perfectly and that, despite how small, sent a wave of calm through me and lit a thankful smile on my face, however short-lived. At least something was cooperating.

I knew I shouldn't have talked to Vivienne before work, but I really hadn't had a choice, she was the one who called me after all. I guess she only ever tried to help, and usually she really did help calm me down, but this time I felt more wired than before. This new nerve wrecking adrenaline rush really didn't help the already hyped up phase I was in before the phone rang.

"And besides," I walked up to the phone, placed my finger on the 'end call' button while toting everything else known to my name that was unpacked in my other arm, so, basically- a case and jacket. "I'm a new teacher, they'll behave as long as I keep them from figuring me out. If I act like a bipolar patient and switch my moods every other second, they stay on their toes and I get a model class. Simple."

"Yes, until your scraping eggs off your car and front door." We both laughed that time and her carefree tone raised the weight from my heart, but then, oh so subtly, her tone grew more uneasy, more somber, and I knew what was coming next. The cliche big sister warning always came, no matter where I went, and it had every since Hartford. "Just be careful, little brother," She whispered into her end, and with that ever addictive quality Vivienne possessed, her mood caught like wildfire and set my heart a larger load to carry. A bittersweet cocktail of guilt, love, understanding and anger. "Make sure you-"

"Make sure you don't let things get so out of control like last time?" I cut her off. I hated when anyone brought that up. It was a dark time, one I couldn't have- wasn't able to get out of as easily as I should have. A case to prove how uncaring and monstrous people could be, how cold a heart could get; to find some sort of kick out of anothers' pain. I closed my eyes, let out a breath and finished, finger still sitting on the button that could end this call with only a flick of the wrist, but I wasn't heartless. "Don't worry Viv, that was a one time screw up."

"You know that's not what I mean. What happened wa-."

"Yeah, I know." I cut her off for the second time. Vivienne was always the one to get it quick, but sometimes she crossed boundaries knowing far too well she was fifty feet over the line. She cared, and sometimes- sometimes that put her in places, in certain situations, she shouldn't be in the middle of.

If there was one defining characteristic about my older sister, though, despite her flaws and besides her antics and love, it would be her strength. It would be her willingness to fight your battle she never had to be involved in, win, and then give you the glory and smile and cheer contently with the spectators. She wasn't happy sharing the spotlight, no- she had to give it away to feel accomplished and complete. Every other single person around her had to be happy, genuinely and truly happy, before she put a single thought towards herself.

Unfortunately, that also got her into a hoard of trouble, but she could fight.

She's always fought.

"Still, I'll be fine." My response was low and strained, but I just had to break the silence I caused. "Like you said; it's high school, this isn't college. It's a fresh start."

"Okay, J. Just- just let me know if anything..." She didn't have an ending this time for me to interrupt. Her sentence just hung there, unfinished, suspended in the air and suffocating. Just the thought of anything like- like that- that history repeating itself, I couldn't go through with it the second time, and I certainly couldn't put Vivienne through it with me.

"Don't worry." That seemed like the safest reply. I didn't answer her directly, I couldn't. Promises like that were too hard to keep, especially to her.

Suddenly my beeper went off, no doubt Mr. Richard expressing his deep concern for my absence. I looked at the clock and could understand why; 8:02.

Dammit.

Vivienne laughed lightly again, that pleasant tone trickled through the air still thick with ghosts and memories and washed them all away with the simplest ease. She, once again, had everything summed up just by a sound.

"Some pompous, pig-headed higher up calling on his new dog to assemble, huh?" She asked with a clear, though invisible smile. What I would give to see that smile. It really had been too long since I've seen her, she's been just a voice inside a box far too long. I laughed with her, enjoying every second I wasted wrapping up the conversation. I'd have given a lot of things in order to let it last, but damn it all if she didn't know me that well. "Hah. Well, you better stop stalling and get to your oh so important job of guiding our country's future through the past, Mr. 'Hot-shot-A.P.-History'."

My smile lingered, as I'm sure hers did as well, but ultimately it fell and sank back into slight despair. "Bye, Vivienne." My voice rang out loud in the shell of a house I stood in and I begged that it didn't sound as hollow and as unsure as it felt on my end of the receiver, in my heart.

"Bye, Jace." My finger finally pushed that glossy, black button, but not in time to stop that silent, helpless last little 'good-luck' from slipping through the line.

Good-luck.

I ran her last word through my mind as I got into the car and settled inside.

My eyes met the rear view mirror and froze there, gazing wearily back into green. My face looked a little pale, especially when contrasted to the wild crop of black framing it. My hand shook as it swept through the strands of hair, combing them back and putting them in better order.

"Good-luck." The sigh came from my lips without my full awareness as I dropped my hand back to the wheel. That word stained the thick, heavy air inside the enclosed space that was already too dense to breathe in with my level of stability at the moment.

I shook my head, tore my eyes away from my reflection, placed the keys in the ignition and twisted the car to life a little rougher than necessary.

This situation was simple, but the moment was forced. Everything seemed forced these days.

Good-luck...

"I need a little more than just good-luck in my life right now."