Blue Fingers

Some say the truth can free you, others that it can pull you down. Some say the truth is best to be told, and others that its better to be kept a secret.
Which do you believe?

Enough.

I came home to find my mom smoking in the balcony. That was never a good sign. As soon as I closed the door behind me I saw her putting her cigarette off and walking out of the balcony to face me.

“School called.”

She stated, crossing her arms over her chest. I sighed,

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

She stared at me with her big, brown eyes and a frown on her face. She pulled a chair from the dining table and sat, using her foot to push one for me to sit. I did as she had worldlessly commanded and stared, prepared for what was coming.

“Are you feeling okay, Alexis?”

Her tone was much more than anger, it was concern and preocupation. I hated that kind of tone.

“Yes…I just went for ice cream with a friend and we lost track of time. I told you, it won’t happen again.”

My mom flinched to the sound of ‘a friend’, and I knew she instantly though of Vera. It wasn’t like I had any other friend to begin with. To my surprise she let that one slip and continued to stare at me intensily.

“You’ve been acting strange, you lock yourself up on your room, you barely eat…you’re jumpy and so easily irritable. Whar’s going on?”

I gritted my teeth and looked down, swallowing down a retort. I thought about what was I going to reply and then said the words,

“I’m really okay, mom. Don’t worry…it’s just a phase.”

I dreaded those words, those were the words my psicologist used to use when she didn’t have an explanation for my behavior. It used to make my mom feel less stressed: if it was a phase then she couldn’t control it so she wouldn’t be held responsible for what happened.

My mom placed a tender hand over mine and then enveloped me in a hug, shuffling my hair.

“If you ever need help, don’t be afraid to ask…I can even contact doctor-“

“It’s okay, mom. Stop worrying.”

I said a little too fast, a little to blunt. She didn’t notice and if she did, she chose to ignore it.

“Okay, whatever you want.”

She whispered, as her arms untangled from around me.

“Just don’t skip school again, alright? And call if you’re coming home late. It’s not that difficult and it keeps me from smoking a whole pack.”

She commented as she stood up and headed for her bedroom. I slid into the chair, closing my eyes and sighing in relief. A few seconds later the silence was broke by a non-stopping beeping sound. I scrambled to my feet as I rushed for the phone (both my mom and my stepdad hated answering the phone) and pressed the talk button.

“Hey, Alexis.”

My breath was caught in my throat.

“Hello?”

The familiar voice asked again. I shook my head and commanded myself to answer,

“Hey, Vera.”

“For a moment I thought it was your mom who had picked up…”

“Ugh, no-“

“Look, I just wanted to make sure you came home alright. I’m in the photoshoot so I don’t have much time to talk right now…but we’ll talk in recess, okay? I have to tell you a lot of things.”

“Sure…o-kay…”

Chattering filled the other line, I could hear people yelling orders and things being moved around. Then Vera’s name was called quite impatiently.

“Gotta run, talk to you tomorrow.”

“Good-“

I heard the click of the other end, signalling the end of our conversation,

“luck.”

* * *
Vera didn’t talk to me much during the course of the day, which made me think she had thought things over and decided she was still mad at me. I didn’t talk for the course of the first three hours, so when the bell signalling recess finally rang and I was dragged away by Leah’s arm into the back of the school my tongue felt numb and heavy.
We sat down away from the rest of the kids, in the zone that anyone else might’ve used as a make-out spot if it wasn’t so visible for the rest of the world. Vera sat on the gravel, her back pressing against the brick wall and I mimicked her. She took a deep breath, as if what she was about to say was either very complex or very painful, or maybe both.

A butterfly flew in front of us and I was transfixed by its beautiful lime-green wings. Vera had to cough to gain my attention. My eyes focused on her intent blue ones and I could easily read determination in them.

“I have to explain you why I was so angry yesterday.”

She stated, enfasizing the last word. I nodded my head for her to continue.

“To know this you have to know more about Te- more about Ethan.”

My attention was even more captured, but I didn’t want her to notice so I just placed a bad imitation of a hurt expression on. She rolled hey eyes and let out a giggle to let me know she hadn’t been fooled. The frown returned afterwards as she cleared her voice again and began to tell me the story from the beginning, the way the old tales where meant to be told,

“When I was five, mom and I lived alone. Dad came from time to time, but he was always busy, and when he wasn’t then he was always tired. Mom used to tell me not to bother him so in time I started to hate him. I hated him because whenever he came back mom’s sour look just looked even more so than usual.
Mom did bother him, however.

They always got into fights. I was too small to understand then because I just ran to my room whenever I heard them shouting at each other with such ferocity and anger. But a year or so later, daddy didn’t return.

He called alot, though, I talked to him almost every day and I started hating him less. He really seemed like he cared this time. Eventually mom started talking to him as well, she shooed me out of the room and locked herself up, and even then talked in whispers so I wouldn’t hear.

Several months after mom and I were in the kitchen, we were preparing sandwiches for dinner when the doorbell rang. Mom rushed to the door, and she cried in joy when she saw dad standing there. She covered him in hugs and kisses and dad returned them. I noticed a figure smaller than dad, his hand didn’t let go of dad’s coat. Eventually dad motioned the child to mom and she hugged him and kissed him as well. I remember the child blushing.

Of course, that was Ethan. As I talked to Ethan I realized even though our dad was the same, we didn’t have the same mother. But mom and dad always acted as if we were really all blood-related so I never let them know I knew about Ethan being a mistress’ son.

Ethan was my best friend. He was always shy and quiet, yet he was king and caring to me. Ethan thought in his heart that he needed to be accepted into our family. His most important goal was that we were old proud of him, he studied his ass off every night, he was always top of the class, he always had the prettiest and smartest girlfriend.

Because of him was that I decided to be more cheerful, to be happier, I thought that by being bubbly he might turn a little bit happier himself and that maybe he’d like me.

Because I really liked me. Well, not like, I was in love with him. I still am. I never looked at him as a brother, he has always been something more in my life.”

“W-what?”

I managed to ask. I could feel the color rising to my cheeks. Was Vera being honest?

“But…but he’s your brother.”

She looked at me strangely, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s my half-brother. And yet he’s not. He’s more to me and I’m more to him. Maybe he’s not inlove with me, but there was a time in which he mistook what he felt for me for love and I took advantadge of that.”

I bit my lip, trying to think some sense out of those words. But I couldn’t.

“What do you mean, V?”

She looked down, her long lashes creating shadows as they touched her cheek lightly.

“We kissed, we had sex, we-“

“Enough.”

I stated. I could hear the trembling in my voice and I was sure Vera could hear it too.