Basorexia

Young Blood.

MAYSON -

I didn't want to admit it, but in a way, I envied myself for how I felt about going to the Brooks until my dad got home. There was one side of me that screamed in glee knowing that I would be in a house with two very nice looking men, but this part was fueled by fantasy and gay energy. It was unrealistic to think anything positive would come out of this experience. Even if Tyler was bisexual, there was no chance his type would be something like me. I was going to be lucky to get out of there unbrusied and whole. The other part of me, the non-mentally insane part, knew that being in a house with two rabid dogs would likely end up with me being a chew toy - I would be their personalized punching bag. As a survival tactic, I knew that if I got on Tyler's good side early, then - if I'm not dead - I could try to get on Hunter to tolerate me.

Truthfully, not many people knew much about the Brooks boys. Sure, they were popular and big sports icons at school, but that was really it. The only information that was known about their personal life was that they were step-brothers that met each other in their early teens. The two shared no blood relation to each other, but looked and argued like they did. Neither were very open to sharing their past lives, even to their closest friends. I only knew all of this from the times I was shoved in a gym locker and would overhear conversations while I waited for someone to come let me out. You learned a lot when no one notices you.

Tyler was the social butterfly out of the two, he got along with almost everyone he met and the ones who didn't get close to him were those who held something against him. He didn't bounce between relationships like Hunter did. Sometimes I thought the relationships he was in were only for the sports player image. They're supposed to have a side chick I guess. Being the goalie of the national football team, he was amazing with his hands. Uh- I mean he's good at catching the ball. He wasn't against making friends with non-popular people. He was able to talk to anyone, but most of the time he wasn't looking for anything further.

Hunter, on the other hand, was the complete polar opposite of his brother. Hunter was the rough guy, inside and out. He was the tough one who wanted everything to go his way all the time. He had a hard time taking no as an answer. He didn't like anything that could make him look weak or ruin his reputation. It wasn't necessarily uncommon to hear about Hunter getting in fights just to get his way, but usually his friends would take the blame, so Hunter could keep his spot on the team. He was the running back of the American football team. The man stood at six-foot one, and was all muscle. I had to look up to even talk to him. We've never talked. His brother Tyler was a little shorter at six-foot even and wasn't bulky, he was more sculpted.

"Mayson, Mayson, Mayson!" My little tot sang, bouncing repeatedly on top of me, spitting out half of my name with every bounce. I couldn't help but let out a grunt every time his feet landed on my chest.

"Enough, Jayson please!" I pleaded, grabbing him by the hips and dropping him to the ground beside my bed. I had one of those gigantic bean-bags beside my bed and when little Jayson was tossed on, he would disappear into the center. My brother huffed, poking his head out from the stack, giving me his most fierce look. He struggled to climb out of the comfort ball while I got dressed. His small hands would grip onto my tucked bedsheets for leverage like a mountain climber on their hardest climb. Last night, I stayed up packing all the things I thought I would need while staying over. They weren't sure how long it was going to be before they would come back. I packed enough clothes for about two weeks and if he was going to be gone longer than that, I would just have to use their washing machines or ask my dad for some money to get new things.

"Boys, let's get going before we're late!" I heard Sandra yell from the stairs, making me groan.

"Damn" I cursed, turning to see my little brother with eyes wide and hands covering his ears. "What?" I asked him.

"You just said a cuss word!" he hush-yelled towards me. Oh yea, pre-school was very strict on that, apparently. Jayson had only started going this year and was one of the youngest in his class, but Sandra had hoped getting him around other children would help him work on his speech. It was honestly worth the try.

"Sorry, yeah don't say bad things you could um- go to jail." I said, grabbing the back of his head and leading him out the room with my blue duffle-bag thrown over my shoulder.

"There are my boys." Sandra greeted at the bottom of the stairs, making me roll my eyes. My father and his girlfriend had about four different suitcases all together, not counting Sandra's makeup bag and purse.

"You know, if you're ditching me and moving to Florida you can honestly just tell me." I said, staring at my dad, while popping a piece of cinnamon-flavored gum in my mouth. He looked to me, rolling his eyes.

"We're not moving, just prepared in case we may have to stay longer than expected. These work trips don't always have an estimated number of days." One by one, he walked the bags to the car, placing them in the trunk of the car.

"I'm just saying, it may have been cheaper to ship the dresser instead of four suitcases." I joked, taking Jayson's hand and walking to his side of the backseat.

"Shut up and get in the car already." My dad said back. His voice was straight forward, but I knew him enough to know when he was joking. Him and I had a decent relationship. It got rough after my mom died, but slowly we've been getting back to where it was.

The plan was that I would get dropped off at school and somehow manage to get one of the brothers to drive me back with them. My dad and Sandra's flight was at ten this morning and my father wanted to know that when he left the house, everything was locked. Sometimes, he still saw me as a kid and thought I would leave a door unlocked and we would get robbed. I groaned silently as we pulled up to the school grounds. Before I could even get a word out to plead my case, my dad stopped me.

"Don't even. Get out Mayson." He said. I sighed loudly, ensuring that they heard me.

"Have a great day!" Sandra beamed from the passenger seat. I gave her a simple, quick grin before turning away. "Bye Mayson!" My brother screamed as I stepped away from the car.

Walking into Mr. Hasting's class I took my seat straight in front of his desk that I was assigned after yesterday's situation. I already knew that today was going to be a long day and it certainly was. Luckily, I didn't have to deal with any tests today, so it made my life a little easier, but I still got assigned to running after school for talking when the whole class was talking too. The entire school day was a bunch of mixed feelings. Part of me was excited to get out of school and counted down the hours. The other side knew what was waiting for me when the clock struck three. Tyler, I wasn't nervous about. Even if he didn't like me, I knew I could co-exist with him in the house for a few days. We would make small talk when we passed one another, like 'how was your day' and 'crazy weather huh', then go on with our lives. If Hunter wasn't happy that I was there, or at least accepting of it, then I would constantly feel like any room he was in, I couldn't go in. I would feel like my pure existence was a bother to him. But, how do I just stop existing for him? I guess I could ask the emo kids, they seem to act like they don't exist.

"Come on faster Mayson or I'll make you run it again!" screamed Mr. Hastings, who held a stop watch in hand as I passed him on the course. There was one more lap for me to run before I would be done and he said if I didn't make the mile by his set time then I would have to run it all over. Most of the time he gave me some ridiculous time to beat. We would do it over until someone called him and that ended in a very loud conversation. My sweat-soaked hair stuck against my forehead as I rounded the last corner on the track. Every time I saw that old man in his over-used gym shorts, I imagined running up and shoving that stop watch down his throat. I never understood why he thought running drills were going to fix everything. To him, if you were able to run a fast mile, then it must mean you can do no wrong, or at least that was the message he was trying to burn into me. Pushing myself over that solid white line, I collapsed to the ground. I rolled onto my back and shielded my eyes from the sun with my arms. While I was gasping for breath, the old man leaned over me. His stop watch dangling from his neck.

"See you in class tomorrow." he said before walking off, leaving me on the course about to die from exhaustion. I always hated running. I hated it so much, the only thing that made today somewhat enjoyable was that I didn't get hollered at by the American football team. Today, the football team practiced on the field. The team that actually kick the ball with their foot. They were kicking goals and practicing passing the whole time I was running. It was a nice change, but I couldn't take my eyes off Tyler. I wasn't sure how he felt about this whole situation or how he specifically felt about me. I caught myself running through different scenarios of what to say to him over and over in my head while I ran.

Walking into the locker room, I chugged down the last of my water. Tossing the plastic Gatorade bottle on the floor, I kicked it towards my locker. The thud against the metal was louder than I expected it to be, the sound booming throughout the room. My body flinched at the sound, happy that no one was around to see who had caused it. The soccer team's practice would be finishing up soon which only gave me a few minutes to change unbothered. I quickly rushed into the shower to clean myself before any of them could join me. There wasn't exactly an action plan on how I would be getting to the Brooks home. I didn't have either Tyler's or Hunter's cell number to text and ask, even if I did, I wouldn't. Since Tyler had practice today, I just assumed that he would be giving me a ride back - if he even knew about it. As I pulled my pink polo shirt over my head, I heard the soft whistle from outside. That was the signal that practice was over. I rushed to grab all of my belongings before sitting in front of my locker. I placed my air pods in so it would seem like I couldn't hear anyone. People would also be less likely to attempt talking to me if they saw them. I felt the vibration on the floor as the team rushed in. All of them were laughing and shouting about practice, shoving one another around.

The locker room was split down the middle. Anyone who was on a sports team got a varsity locker, regardless if they were on varsity or junior varsity. The lockers were double the size of regular student lockers, usually those were the ones I would be shoved into. Varsity lockers were on the left side of the room near the showers, while regular ones were on the right near the bathrooms. A gym teacher office was in one of the corners with glass windows, so they could 'supervise' students, but they never cared what was going on. Most of the time, no one was even in there. The high-pitched squeaks of soccer cleats scrapped against the red tile floor. I didn't bother to look up and try to find Tyler. He would know who I was when he saw me. My locker was in the back corner. I didn't have a direct view of the varsity lockers, I could only see bodies walking back and forth. Instead, to waste time, I opened up spotify and listened to music. I didn't know how long Tyler would take and I defiantly didn't want to ask. I leaned my head back against the metal lockers and shut my eyes.

The vibration of the lockers behind me jolted me awake. I quickly looked around, realizing Tyler stood right in front of me. He held his gold duffle-bag over his shoulder, wore tight black compression shorts with a baggy blue gym short over it. With no shirt, he had his jersey flung over his left shoulder. His silver chain glimmered in the light. His eyes roamed over me, a curious look in them and something else I didn't recognize. He had pounded his fist against the lockers I was leaning on to jolt me away. Taking a step back, he reached up to pull a lollipop out from his mouth.

"You're Payson right?" he asked, pointing towards me with the sucker.

"Uh- n- no I'm Mayson." I corrected him, pulling the air pods of my ears.

"Right." he sung out smiling towards me. I had never realized the deep dimple he got on his left cheek when he smiled. "Come on then." He said, walking away. Stunned, I grabbed all my things and followed like a child behind the towering man. I wasn't super short, I was five foot nine, but three inches is still a lot in height.

I was afraid to speak, a million things rushed to my head about how to start a conversation, but every scenario I pictured ended with me on the floor. Tyler drove a large orange pick-up truck. It stood out, but that's what he liked about it. The entire drive we didn't speak. Tyler simply blasted his music as he zoomed down the freeway. I could see out the corner of my eye, his striking blonde hair flapping in the wind. He would lip sync to the songs that played over the radio, tapping his hand against the steering wheel. When we got to the house, I continued to follow Tyler around like a lost child. He never turned around to see if I was still there. From the garage door we walked down a long hall until we got into a large living room. A huge platinum screen TV hung from the wall in front two L-shaped couches that connected to make a U-shape. Different posters and art hung from the walls.

"You'll be sleeping upstairs in the guest bedroom kid." Tyler's familiar light voice spoke. Turning my head, I saw that he was in the kitchen, making himself something to drink. I dropped both of my duffle-bags to the ground that I had been carrying around all day, along with my backpack besides them.

"Yeah, okay." I replied. I wasn't going to argue or demand a tour and get a choice. Awkwardly, I pressed my hands into my pockets, standing silently, unsure what I could and couldn't touch.

"How long are you here for?" A deep voice asked. First I looked to Tyler, who was still making himself a drink. His eyes were peering over me, looking behind me. Following his gaze, I turned. It was Hunter. He was taller than Tyler just by an inch, his skin olive and tan in color. His hair was grown out to fall behind his ears, but was pulled up into a messy man-bun. He wore a simple red t-shirt and some black sweatpants.

"Um- I uh" clearing my throat I shook my head regaining my ability to talk "A couple weeks?" I said, not knowing the right answer.

"Got it." Hunter said simply, grabbing my things and heading up the stairs. The two were defiantly going to be a struggle to deal with, but what was I suppose to do at this point... run away?

I stood there in the kitchen for quite a while. The two brothers carried on doing their own thing as if I wasn't there. They both sat on the couch, opposite sides, and watched TV. Occasionally, one of them would walk into the kitchen to get a snack, then head back. They ate a lot. I felt awkward. It almost felt wrong to wander through the house, even though I would be staying here for... well who knows how long? Neither of them exactly offered me a tour of the place.

"Tyler, change the damn channel." Hunter groaned, "I don't want to watch America's Got Talent for another whole season just because you can't keep up with your shows."

"It's not my fault you always want to watch your sports documentaries or work out using the only television with a digital recorder in the house. You have a television set in your room, go watch it in there." scoffed Tyler, tucking the remote under his leg to render it untouchable.

Quietly, I made my way to the living room and found a spot on the couch. I sat closer to Tyler, but still gave a respectful amount of room.

"Mayson, what do you want to watch?" Tyler asked kicking me with his foot slightly to get my attention. I glanced towards him, brows raised, then to Hunter. They were both staring at me. I didn't know what the right answer would be.

"Um- I'm actually going to go to bed." It was only six o'clock.

"You sure?" Tyler asked, looking at me confused. He tossed the remote to Hunter only to make him smirk, turning, the channel instantly without another word.

"Yeah, I'm just tired from the day and need some rest is all." I nodded, beginning to scurry out of the room, just before leaving I heard the two harshly whispering at each other. I stopped just around the corner, trying to stay silent, and make out what they were saying to one another.

"Goodnight Mayson!" Hunter yelled, making me jump. He knew I was listening without having seen me, I bet Tyler told him I was listening. Hurrying to the stairs, I yelled back "Yea night!" before running up the stairs as fast as I could. It took me a minute before I was able to find my room, but Hunter had kept my bags all outside the door. After changing into some pajamas, I spent the rest of the night on my phone. I could hear when they each came up the stairs. First was Hunter, his steps heavier of the two. I could see the shadows pass under my door from the hall light as he walked by. A few seconds later, it was Tyler. As he reached the top of the stairs, his shadow froze. I could tell he was standing right outside my door. He stood there for what seemed like a minute before he walked away. It was almost as if he was about to open my door or knock. I couldn't understand why or what he was thinking. Not long after, I fell asleep while trying to come up with an answer.

This sure was going to be a long, anxious few weeks. Well, that is if I survive that long.