Me and Julian part 4

Julian laid next to me on the bed and sighed. I was sitting upright, trying to do my homework. "Julian," I sighed, putting down my pencil, "could you quit the dramatic sighing? I'm trying to do my homework, unlike some people." Julian rolled his eyes and rolled over onto his stomach, staring at my TV, which was playing a show on mute. "I'm not going to college, so I don't see the point in doing homework." I rolled my eyes, "Or schoolwork. Or tests." He grinned and I sighed, "I don't know how you get away with it. No one ever gets you in trouble for anything." He laughed, "I know, it's like I'm not even there." He sat up and started playing with the hair by my ear. I turned my face into his and let his warm lips meet mine, let him distract me for just a minute. Then I turned back to my homework and he sighed and leaned against my headboard. "Dinnertime, Laura," Jamie said as she walked by my cracked open bedroom door. Julian jumped off the bed eagerly and I rolled my eyes and followed him down the stairs. He stuck out his foot at the last stair and I tripped. "You dunce!" I yelled at him, slapping his arm even as he caught me. He laughed and kissed me lightly. I rolled my eyes, muttering, "Suck-up," and looked up to see my brother's staring and my parents and Jamie looking down at their food awkwardly. I brushed brightly, hitting Julian in the gut. He grunted in pain and then chuckled as I shuffled to the dinner table and sat down. He sat down next to me and smiled at the family, but no one smiled back at him. They were all looking at me. All except Jamie, who was staring at her food, a tear trickling down her cheek. "Is something wrong, Jamie?" I asked, concerned. Jamie looked up and coughed, discreetly trying to cover herself as she moved hair away from her face while wiping the tear, "No, nothing. I'm fine." I furrowed my eyebrows, concerned, but then glanced at my dad, who was watching her with furrowed eyebrows. I looked down at my food and didn't saying anything else, because clearly she didn't want to talk about it. At least not with dad there.

Most of the time, I could deal with Julian. Most of the time, I was only annoyed by him. But there were moments, like when she leaned her head into nothing or closed her eyes, reaching her face up to connect her lips with air, when I was overwhelmed with sadness that my sister would never be normal again. I remembered the time before Julian started visiting. She was always happy, giddy, talking to me about some boy she met but never specifying his name or saying anything about him in front of mom and dad. I was happy for her, young and in love, even if I did sometimes envy her. Then her smile became more forced, her laughs less frequent. I remember the conversation I had with her one night-

"What's gotten into you lately? You seem... down," I said casually as I layered my toe nails with the blue paint. Laura glanced up at me and then turned her head, looking out the window, her heart clearly somewhere else. "The boy," she said, still not telling me his name. I quiet tear trickled down her cheek and she immediately wiped it away. She turned back to me with another forced smile and shrugged, "He left." I remember my shock at that. He just up and left? Just like that? "Where'd he go?" I asked. She cleared her throat-clearly not sure how much she should tell me. "He, um..." she finally made eye contact with me, and in that moment, as she searched me eyes, I saw the most trust in the world. She just looked at me and decided that, yes, she could tell me her secret. Yes, she could trust me with the one thing she cared about most in the world. "He joined the army," she said, and my eyes widened to their fullest extent. She looked down at her newly-manicured feet again, "Um, yea. The air force. "

"Is he ever coming back?" I asked, louder than I meant to. She kept her head down as she shook it. It all made sense then. Her misery. That loss of the glint in her eye-the glint of love. Shortly after that is when Julian started paying her visits. And though it pains me to think of it, his coming was really partly my fault. Was really the fault of the whole family. Because I found out her secret, the cause for her pain, and I kept it myself, didn't tell anyone. Didn't say that we should sympathize with her rather than just label her sadness as hormones and let her wallow in her despair. I left her there, all alone, to deal with her pain. How could she not conjure up someone to keep her company, to ward off the loneliness, to distract her from the pain? How could we have seen him come and thought it was a joke? Why in the world would she joke like that, for so long, when she was so crushed, so lonely? She needed him. Like she had needed me, and I hadn't been there. But once I realized all of this, it was already too late. He was there for keeps.

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