Meet Me On Thames Street

“Thanks,” I muttered as I scrambled out of Alex’s car.

“See you tomorrow,” he waved.

“Doubt it,” I scoffed as I ran up to my front door. As I reached into my pocket I realised my key wasn’t there. Great. I could’ve done without my phone today, but my keys? I turned around just to see Alex driving around the corner.
‘Not that I wanted his help anyway,’ I told myself as I slumped against the peeling wooden door of my cottage style house. I sat there for around five minutes, banging my head in frustration against the door every so often. Until I tried to bang my head against the door and I ended up falling backwards. Embarrassed, I quickly picked myself up to see who had opened the door. Dad didn’t finish work until 7:00pm and mum was never home.

“Hey Iffy,” a deep voice greeted me warmly from above my head.

“Christian!” I squealed, turning around and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. “Where the hell have you been? Dads been so worried!”

“Gee Addison. You don’t have to kill me! Dad knew I wouldn’t be home for a long time. Norway’s a pretty confusing place, what with all the cute girls and such,” he winked as he pulled away from me.

“Lets just say, I’m glad I wasn’t sleeping in the room next to you then,” I giggled, jabbing his muscular arm lightly.

He rolled his bright grey eyes before grabbing my hand and dragging me into the small lounge where he pushed me onto the couch and stared at me. This made me giggle as I lent back on the couch and stared back.

“You look different,” he concluded after a few minutes of intent staring.

“As do you, bro,” I snickered.

He moved to sit down next to me so he could examine me more closely. This is why I loved Christian; he always knew when something was up. Especially when Alex has stolen something.

“What has he stolen?” he asked as he swept his long black hair out of his eyes, now shining with confusion and worry.

The next few seconds I pondered on telling him, I certainly wasn’t embarrassed about telling Christian I lost my virginity. That’s the upside about having a half brother, but it was the actual saying it out loud, which I still hadn’t achieved.

I opened my mouth like a goldfish a few times before I felt tears begin fall, smudging my mascara even more. I looked into Christian’s eyes and felt the tears fall more rapidly. It was then that I completely collapsed in his arms, sobbing like a three year old. For the next five minutes, I wept I his arms while he rubbed circles on my back and sang softly, like he used to do. Eventually I found the courage to sit up and wipe the tears from my eyes and look at my hands. Thick, black lines covered the sides of my hands.

“I’m nearly ready,” I told him.

“Nearly?” he questioned.

I just nodded before taking off Alex’s shirt in one sweeping movement. “You don’t mind?”

“Never,” he said, poking my tummy fat softly.

Christian was the perfect one-man audience. He knew exactly when to ooh and when to aw. He knew when to stay silent and when to gasp, there was plenty of gasping when I told him what Alex had done. When I had finished retelling my tale Christian looked at me with heartbroken eyes.

“That boy needs a good whack around the head, no?” he asked, hugging my small frame tighter.

“Indeed,” I agreed, snuggling into him.

Times like this I was glad to have Christian. After my mum cheated on my father when they were visiting Las Vegas, he broke down completely. But after a few years of being lonely, he met Leanne. I wouldn’t be surprised if Leanne was cheating on dad, he knew it too. She was never home and always going away on business trips. I always used to ask dad why a florist needed to go on so many trips; he just shrugged and told me I’d understand later. Five years later, I did. The only reason dad put up with it was so Christian had somewhere to go, because he loved Christian like his own son and he didn’t want Leanne to give Christian a dreadful future by never being there.

We suddenly heard a knock at the door and I jumped, thinking it would be Alex. But I soon realised what the time was and that it was probably dad being too lazy to use his keys. I pulled away from Christian and ran into my room where I rammed on a tee shirt and went to greet my father.

“Christian, you’re back!” he boomed, pulling him into our famous bone-crushing hugs.

“Aye, I am Jack,” he yelped as all the air left his lungs.

“Sorry,” my dad apologised as he realised he had winded Christian, “you need to buff up.”

“Heh, I try. I really do,” Christian chuckled.

“And my favourite girl,” he smiled as he came over and shook my hand, “you seem to be in no condition to be hugged. What’s wrong?”

I loved my family for this. They always knew.

“Alex,” I mumbled as I hugged my dad lightly.

“Christian, it’s about time you knocked some sense into that boy,” my dad chortled before excusing himself to have a shower and get ready for dinner.

“Yea, Christian. It’s about time,” I agreed, giggling.

“It’s about time you stopped getting drunk,” Christian teased, hugging me with one arm.

“Haha,” I pouted.