Getting home at 6 o'clock in the afternoon post-emotional breakdown with your boyfriend, you really just wanna lay down. Besides the cloud I felt like I was drifting on and the smile on my face, I was exhausted and ready to pass out at any given moment...

But life couldn't throw me a bone as I made my way onto my street and neared my house. Jackson was sitting on the steps, hunched over and hands digging into his curly black hair. There was a frown creased into his eyebrows and I could've sworn tears were dropping from his eyes. He was staring at the ground when I'd made my way up the steps, his head tilting up and brown eyes hitting mine briefly before he looked down again, instantly wiping at his face with the heels of his palms.

Carefully sitting down next to him, I leaned my head on his shoulder and hoped that he would find comfort in that.

Sensing that he wasn't going to go out on a limb and tell me, I voiced my question, "What's wrong?" We had been sitting there for a few minutes, cold nipping at the exposed skin of my ankle. Christmas had been a few weeks away as it was the start of December, break not that far away... A lot had happened in a short amount of time and my mind was still spinning.

According to Oliver, I wasn't qualified hot enough to be out in fifty degree weather without being bundled in a thousand layers. When I'd left his house that day, I was wearing a sweater of his over my original sweater and underneath my coat and really, I was thankful. Jackson, however was out here in just a flimsy long sleeve that held absolutely no warmth and some jeans. Pulling off my coat, I handed it to him before tugging Oliver's sweater further over my hands.

Jackson shrugged, "just some stuff." But I knew it wasn't just stuff. He'd been off for a little while, mood shifting hazardously and although I was sure it wasn't something as deep as what January was dealing with, I was pretty worried about my brother. He still didn't seem to want to talk about it and I wasn't that pushy of a person with him so I let it slide, waited for him to elaborate.

When he didn't, I attempted to tiptoe around the situation but I was never very subtle, "Football?"

Shrugging again, he tugged my once-rejected coat over his arms and clasped his hands in front of him. Staring out at nothing in particular, he spoke. His voice had been getting a little drowsier lately, eyes a little sadder and he never gave a straight answer. "I've been thinking a lot, I don't know."

"About?" There was this kind of thing that hung in the air and I wasn't really sure if it were about recent events. There were things going on in his life that I wasn't sure about yet and I never realized how much things effected him until I sat down next to him and we had a conversation.

"I could..." Sighing, he attempted to put his thoughts into words, "I could, you know, die... at any time, Em..."

I didn't get it, where did these thoughts come from? Was he thinking about it often? How long had this been a thing. "Is this about Jan?"

He shrugged again, "somewhat." But I knew that wasn't all and he could tell so, sighing, he tried to explain himself further. "Dre was arrested yesterday for nothing, charged him on possession, he wasn't even smoking I'm worried about him too."

Andre, I'd forgotten about all Jackson's friends, they didn't seem that important to him anymore.

"He'll get bailed out, he's a minor."

But that wasn't what he meant, whipping to face me, my brother met my eyes. "You don't get it, what if they kill him?"

Kill him? Who would kill him? We'd known Andre for a while and he wasn't in a gang or anything, I was so sure he didn't even sell so who would kill him and why? "Who?"

"The cops." I didn't expect that answer or the seriousness that came with it smacking me in the face. "Life is too short, Em. Like, I could be out on the streets one day and a cop pop off then I'm dead like that nigga Emmett or Trayvon or Tamir, Alton, Philando... No thoughts about it, no changing that, couple bullets and I'm gone."

It was heavy and it sat on my chest making it a little harder to breathe as he spoke... No hesitation in his words, he seemed to be thinking about it for a long time. This wasn't anything new, this was something big he'd been struggling with for a while.

He laughed then, like something was funny but there was pain in his words. "I-I forget... cause, cause Dad's white."

And I did too, it was easy to feel safe at home, I didn't think about how he felt when he left. He was only fifteen and he was coming to understand that the world wasn't made for him and for some reason, it didn't hit me before.

His words were disbelieving, a blank face and glossy eyes. "I really forget that ion look like him, you know?"

"Jack..."

He shrugged. "And-and they won't know about him unless I make it to the fucking station."

"And-and this shit, Em." His voice broke, voice louder and he pointed around at absolutely nothing. Like it was the world against him. "It's so much, it's so fuckin' much a-an-and... and I can't breathe sometimes."

In the news was nothing different, I was realizing, Jackson had been watching all of this shit go down for months, analyzing, getting upset. He'd been keeping it to himself, I was sure.

"It feels like I can't fucking breathe."

I didn't know when I started crying but I knew my throat was closing up. I knew there were tear streaks on my face and I was wiping them away so urgently. I had to keep it together.

"You're not gonna die."

"Yeah." It was obvious he didn't believe me.

"Jackson." I tried to make my voice harder, tried to catch his eyes in mine and keep a shake from my words, "You are gonna be okay. It's not gonna be like this forever."

I could tell it wasn't convincing, it wouldn't ever be because it wasn't true. It was like this when we came into the world and it would probably be like this when we left.

And there wasn't much comfort in that. There was comfort in him leaning into me then, him understanding that I didn't know what to say.

And my little brother was breathing so broken.

"Dre's gonna be fine."

I wasn't sure if that was true and he could tell, letting out a bitter laugh, he tried to smile over at me, "how're you sure?"

I didn't know how to respond to that so letting it hang in the air, I was hoping he'd change the subject, hoping we didn't have to talk about it soon. He wasn't gonna die, he was gonna out live our parents, he just had to.

And we were gonna keep pushing, we were gonna get it off our chest and he was gonna stand up and push it to the back of his mind and live his life with all the joy he had cause there wasn't anything else he could do.

"We should go inside. It's freezing." I tried to change the subject and he let the fake smile fall, kicking at the ground in his clean timberlands. I centered my eyes across the street, the white lights catching my eyes, it was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year and while I was out enjoying myself and worrying about Oliver Remmer, my brother was thinking about who would carry his casket.

Understanding the fact that this was too heavy to talk about outside in the freezing cold, he nodded before raking a hand through his curls and looking up at the sky. We would talk about it later, I was sure, but I definitely didn't want Jackson to be as upset as he was right now. That obviously didn't happen, there was still an extremely sad look on his face when he looked over at me, "They won't stop fighting, Em."

"It's okay." I assured even though my voice lacked confidence. My parents fought a lot, sure, but with all that was going on, I hadn't noticed as much. When they were okay, they were okay and it made me forget 100% about it but when they weren't... "they're okay."

Every argument felt exactly the same as the first one, it hurt, it terrified both Jackson and I and it worried us that maybe they'd divorce.

I could see the worry on Jackson's face and was about to speak when he kicked at the railing angrily, head still in his hands and he groaned. "I hate this, they won't listen to me and Ma said something and Dad called her stupid and she got mad and they've been fighting for the past hour."

"I'll go talk to them, okay?" Chewing at my nail, I turned my face towards him and he nodded. Standing up, I squeezed at his shoulder before stepping back a bit to make my way inside. "It'll be okay, Jacky."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Leaning down, I kissed his cheek before hugging him and he gagged. "Love you, bro."

Rubbing at his face, he turned a disgusted look my way and shoved me, and I laughed. "Gross." Shuffling back, I smiled before throwing a teasing remark and opening the door, my smile instantly falling at the noise that awaited me.

"I'm sick of this, Rodin!" My mother was yelling, her voice shrill and arms waving angrily as she argued back. My father was just standing there, passive with his arms folded and jaw ticking. My father wasn't upset easily but certain people just knew how to push his buttons. "I work my ass off and I still make time for my family, with all the extra work you're doing, you'd be supporting another!"

There wasn't a lot that upset him but one of them was my mom doubting him. My dad worked hard for his job, he loved it almost as much as he loved us and times were hard, Mom knew that about as good as anyone.

"I'm working to put food on this damn table!" His voice had raised but his body hadn't moved, face blank and my mother obviously didn't like that. Pushing past him to head upstairs, my dad gripped at her waist, keeping her grounded.

Pushing at his chest, she detached his body from her, a glare on her face. "Tamara." His voice was blunt, cold and annoyance was finally shown on his otherwise blank face.

"What?"

Rolling his eyes, he tapped his foot and I could see the impatience coming into play at the way my mother was acting. "The attitude is really unnecessary." They must've been fighting a long time before I'd came home because his patience was only able to wear this thin when he was tired. "I'm trying my hardest but you don't even seem to be listening."

"Just because you're busy doesn't mean you can't make time for us."

"I am." Throwing his arms up angrily, he backed up and his voice raised. "Why're you so mad?"

"I'm not mad." And he reached for his wife, her stepping back before his hands came in contact with her and he frowned. "Don't."

His eyebrows creasing, he tried to grab her hand stoping at her harsh glare. She was most definitely mad, even I could see that but my mother often denied her anger in effects of being stubborn. That was something I'd gotten from her. "Baby-"

"You don't respect me." I was realizing how much like my mother I was, we weren't reasonable in arguments, I could see why Oliver often got irritated when we did argue. It was really such a wonder how he dealt with me, I wasn't very good at listening when mad and our arguments were often petty. That was something I needed to work on.

My parents' fights weren't as simple as mine and Oliver's, not in the slightest, I knew that but they could probably be solved the same way. My boyfriend and I often talked things out after disagreements, maybe they could try that.

"I do respect you."

Shaking her head, I watched her slap his hand away when he reached for her but he didn't pay mind to it. "No you don't."

"Tam-"

"No!" And then there were tears in her eyes as she tangled her own hands in her curls and what she was really feeling spilled out. "You're always gone, goddamnit, you're never here and you expect me to be okay with it? You don't respect my feelings, I fucking love you, Rod, and all you care about is your job!" And that was when I found myself speaking up, trying to get them to stop yelling. They were getting louder, I was sure that Jackson could probably hear them outside.

"Jackson's having a breakdown on the porch." My voice was soft, manners coming into play and I tried my best not to get yelled at for interrupting. Jackson's not okay, Jackson's not okay, Jackson's not okay and he can't handle this especially not right now. "We can't stand hearing you fight."

"We're not fighting."

"I've been fighting with Oliver for weeks, I think I know what fighting is." I scoffed, instantly shutting up at the pointed look my mom gave me. "Look, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be disrespectful but this is seriously affecting him."

"Okay," my dad said, understanding in his tone and turned back towards my mother, grabbing at her hand although she was reluctant. There was a sad smile on his face and I could see the exhaustion in his eyes. "Baby, don't doubt that when you need me, I'm going to be there. And sometimes being there isn't always being here."

"I just," and when she realized that she was the only one yelling now, she stopped, thinking and I could see her embarrassment about the blowup. My mother's skin was much darker than mine, a blush not in the least bit showing on her face but I could tell she regretted the fight. "I miss you, I miss spending time with you and you're always off. I know your work is important and I know money's tight but I- We don't even cuddle anymore, you- you leave in the morning and then come home and go straight to sleep, I never see you anymore."

And it must've dawned on my father what the fight was really about. It wasn't so much the work as it was the lack of communication and I could relate to missing someone, I missed him too.

"I love you," his voice was softer and I felt as if I were imposing on something intimate. "look at me." Lifting her chin, he forced her to look into his eyes and I wanted a love like that. "I love you and Emerson and Jackson so much, it's the only reason that I'm working this hard."

And then he smiled, her struggling not to reciprocate it, "If something's bothering you this much, talk to me about it. I'd rather hear the root of the problem than accusations. I'd never cheat on you, you trust that, right?"

There was a pout on her lips, "Yeah."

"Okay, so, how about we have a date night, okay? Every once in a while isn't enough anymore. I want to make you feel special." Aw, I thought, head tilting in admiration at that before I grimaced at his next sentence, bile rising in my throat. "Just you and me, your favorite restaurant, some love making like teenagers-"

"Gross." Swallowing back the disgust, I still found myself smiling quickly after when my dad kissed her forehead, lips lingering and he wrapped her gently in his arms.

"Shut up, Bug, I'm being wooed." My mom threw my way, sticking her tongue out at me and they were really acting like teenagers.

"We're going out tonight and then tomorrow, we can have family time and so on. It'll be a weekly thing."

She looked up at his with a hopeful glance, "And we can have lunch together, right?"

"We can definitely have lunch together." There was a laugh in his voice as he pinched at her sides and she let out a girlish squeal, hitting his chest playfully. "You can meet Karen and she can show you that she's not a cougar and I'm not looking to have my cradle robbed."

And right when I was heading back outside, I smiled at my mother's voice. "I love you, dork."

"I love you too."

⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄

Sneaking out of the house wasn't really necessary when my parents weren't home.

Apparently Jackson had plans with January as well that night and he was cool with me leaving, deciding not to snitch when the blond boy had made his way to our house, smile on his face and junk food in his book bag.

January was going to spend the night, I was sure and although I didn't advise it -mostly due to the fact that they always ruined the house when they were alone but somewhat his unrequited crush on my brother- I let it be. They were on the couch playing video games when I'd left, both boys heavily into beating each other at some weird ass fighting game that Jackson had recently bought.

Leaving a smack on my brother's head and kiss on Jan's, I made my way out of the house with the excuse that I'd be at Sid's and they didn't question it.

Of course, I went to Oliver's but trust me, I intended to get some studying done. Since his suspension, he'd fallen even more behind in Psychology and although I wasn't that good at it, it was really the best we could do. Tutoring was long since abandoned after around the third meeting due to the fact that Oliver couldn't handle being around Kid Genius any longer. I needed this credit to graduate and really, so did Oliver.

"You look gorgeous."

Now that would've been an innocent statement and I probably would've told him to shut up if it weren't for the situation we were in right now. With Elliot's rock music blasting, we found it hard to concentrate on the chapter we were looking over, Oliver groaning in annoyance and trying to bang on the wall to get him brother to turn it down.

That was, of course, no use. In retaliation, the younger Remmer had cackled loudly and turned the music up louder to drown out any protest from us and I was forced to pout up at my boyfriend.

He suggested we go to my house but I really wanted to be alone with him and Jackson wouldn't leave us alone if we did go there. If I brought him home, the two boys would be watching us like crazy. Shaking my head at that, we opted to just lay out on his bed, one thing led to another and we were kissing.

His mother was out, not sure where and I really didn't care and due to Elliot barging in earlier and stealing Oliver's CDs, his door was locked. That's how it all started, one kiss turned into a few and I was on my back, Oliver hovering over me and his lips on my neck.

Really, I didn't mind and soon our shirts were in a pile on his floor, we didn't stop there like last time. His lips had made their way across my body, fingers anxiously fumbling with the button my my jeans and Oliver's lip was in between his teeth. Ridding me of my clothing, he leant back over my body, placing another kiss on my lips and I felt his shoulders tense underneath my hold.

Going to stop, he halted my actions, assuring he was fine and my breath hitched at the feeling of his body pressed against mine. My heart was hammering in my chest, I knew he could feel it and nothing ever felt more right.

Trailing his fingertips lightly down the incline of my neck and over to my shoulder, he placed a kiss there, my skin burning. God, I wanted this, I really wanted this and Oliver seemed to as well. Sitting up, he twined his arm around my waist, pulling my body flush against him and captured my lips in his.

It was a heated kiss, our hands tugging at whatever we could reach and mine found their way to his hair, my body was in his lap, legs hooking around him and a drunkenness coming from his kisses. I could stay like this forever, I really could. His hands on my body were exhilarating, flames igniting whenever we made contact and suddenly, it felt hotter than the mother fucking sun in the middle of a drought.