Rebellion Is Good For the Soul, Amanda Castillo [i wanna iguana read aloud .TXT] 📗

to the bathroom, where she reemerges, a soaked bag in hand. She rifles through it, and I realize the song is probably from her cell phone. I sit up, a bad feeling spreading throughout my gut. Why would she be so scared of a phone call? I watch her as she pulls out various things- notebooks, pens etc. She gives a small sigh of relief when she pulls out a small grey phone. She looks at the screen, her expression paling even more (if that’s possible).

“And even if I coul-“
April shoots me an apologetic glance as she presses the ‘Accept’ button, and puts the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
She’s quiet for a moment, and in that instant, I find myself wishing that I could do something to make her more relaxed- to return her to the state of happiness that she was in only a few minutes ago. I frown slightly when I realize that I don’t know the first thing about her; that I’m overstepping my bounds. I wring my hands, the calloused pads of my fingers doing nothing to soothe me as I rub my hands together. I’m nothing more than a guy who helped her out when she needed it- we’re not even friends. I hang my head- I don’t even know her last name.
“… but Darius! That’s not fair- I cover for you when you get home late! How can you do this! One time- please! Come- Please- Fine then, tell them! I’ll tell them about that time you brought home the waitress…! Oh yes I will. Fine, thanks. Bye.”
She seethes for a moment, and I feel my fists inadvertently clench. I don’t know who ‘Darius’ is, but by how worked up April is, he can’t be anyone good. April’s cheeks are red from yelling into the phone, and I can tell from the glazed over look in her eyes that she is only seconds from crying. I feel the strong compulsion to do something, but I can’t bring myself to do anything. It would be inappropriate, someone like me, a stranger to comfort a girl like her.
She puts her phone back in her bag, and it’s only then that I notice the washer has finished. I shoot her a glance, and move across the room to put her clothing in the dryer. Almost mechanically, I load the dryer, my mind a mess. This girl… she’s something different. I run a hand through my hair and then rest the palms on the cool surface of the dryer, careful to keep my back to her. Somehow, I know if I see her crying, I might start crying too.
“Your clothes will be out in about ten minutes.”
Ten precious minutes and then I’ll probably never see this girl again. A sharp pain in my chest makes me wince. Why is it so hard to let this girl go?
“Oh okay… That was my brother- he’s a real ass sometimes… But then again I guess you probably gleaned that from our... ‘Conversation’”
“If you could call it that.”
I clap a hand over my mouth, cursing it. The words slipped through without my meaning to. I turn around, and see April staring at me with her eyes wide.
“What did you mean by that?”
I look away from her, wishing that I wasn’t partly to blame for the vast sea of hurt in her eyes.
“Nothing- it just slipped out.”
She gets up and crosses the room so she’s right in front of me. She opens her mouth like she’s going to tell me something but then closes it, her expression turning to stone again.
“You have no right to judge my brother.”
I want to say that I wasn’t, but I can tell from the stormy look in her eyes that she’s not listening anymore. I can’t help but shake a feeling that she’s telling me not to judge her, not her brother.
“I’m sorry…”
She nods and then sits back down on the bed. I stand awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do.
“Do you need a ride home? I have a motorcycle…”
April nods, and even though she puts on a smile when she thanks me, so softly that I almost don’t hear her, I can’t help but feel like trash when I notice her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
Chapter 3

I honestly don't know why I defended my brother. He didn't deserve to be defended. We're twins sure, but just because you shared, a womb with someone didn’t mean that you automatically had a link with that person. Sure, when we were younger and still had a nanny, we were close. As we grew older, we grew apart. He began to date, while I stayed home and studied for the next day's test. He went out to parties, while I typed up a report that wasn't due for another month. He drank and smoked weed, I tried with all of my being to ignore the stench that was present on his clothes whenever he came home.
Darius - that's what he calls himself, my dear brother. He would just die if anyone knew that his name was actually Eric. It was such a clean cut name- respectable. Eric and I aren't actually that different. Despite his grades, he really is smart. Smart enough to read tomes thicker than my fist in only a few days, using only his breaks from partying to do so. He could draw, and dance, and recite poems that spanned several pages from memory. He can do everything I can, except the difference is that he doesn’t have to work for it. He can do all of it using the least amount of effort necessary. I shudder at the thought of what he could accomplish if he actually applied himself.
He’s never done anything for me- at all. He even goes so far as to make fun of and insult me whenever he brings his friends over. He says things like ‘We aren’t twins, no matter what anyone says; as far as I’m concerned I’m adopted.” Or “Yea, go study you prude, while you’re at it, why don’t you get me a beer and be useful, or something?” I stare at the floor; taking in its texture- it’s so very different from the cold tile of my bedroom. When I wake up in the morning, it’s always so cold, no matter how high the heater in my room is. This carpet… it has character, unlike the cold, plain white tile that I’ve spent my sixteen years looking at.
“Are you okay?”
I look up, snapping out of my reverie and catch sight of the worried expression on Jas’ face. I put on my most convincing smile, but from the way his frown deepens, I know it didn’t work. I sigh, debating whether I should tell him what I’m thinking. He raises an eyebrow and I take it as my cue to start talking. Funny, I won’t talk to any of my classmates, at least not intimately, who I’ve known for years, but I’ll talk to a boy who I’ve only known for about an hour. It’s amusing, the way life unfolds.
“I’ll tell you something about me if you answer one question of mine.”
I hate the way my voice quavers but I can’t do anything about it. This boy… this boy, he reacts differently than what I’m used to. He doesn’t shy away from me, but then again he doesn’t really know who I am. If he did, he’d probably be running for the hills, just like the rest of them.
“Did you hear? That new girl, April, she’s the daughter of Daniel Fernandez.”
I wince when I hear my father’s name. It’s going to happen again. I’m going to be shut out before they even know me.
“THE Daniel Fernandez- as in the guy that owns half the town?”
A soft, deeper chuckle follows and I hang my head in shame. They say it with such envy- they probably think that I’m like every other rich girl they’ve seen or read about, conceited, stupid, and vain beyond words. If only they knew that, I’d trade my life for theirs in a second…

“Ask away- I have no secrets.”
I stare at him, trying to shake off the vividness of the memory. I make myself more comfortable on his bed and then stare straight into his hazel eyes.
“How come you live here? I mean… alone.”
He looks at me for a moment and then sighs before retrieving a battered blue beanbag and settling into it.
“I’m alone because I got tired of being around my mom- she would come home so drunk that the next morning she wouldn’t even remember going out to drink the night before. Aside from the headaches, which she claimed were migraines, I had no proof that she had gone drinking and she went out to drink again. I left her believing that it was the 2nd, when in reality it was the 12th.”
I stare at him in disbelief. Most people would be bitter. Most people would have given up on her a long time ago. I close my mouth, reminding myself that Jas obviously isn’t your normal person.
“Isn’t that running away?”
He shifts on the beanbag so that he’s lying on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling.
“I worked every summer, and beside that I had a part time job. I saved every penny and hired a lawyer. I’m emancipated.”
He bites his lower lip, closing his eyes for a moment. His eyebrows are scrunched up, like when someone is about to cry.
“You want to know the worst of it? My mom signed the emancipation papers while she was drunk. I bet she doesn’t even remember that she signed her kid away…”
Tears pool through his closed eyes, and I get off the bed slowly, before sitting down next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I think that she knew what she was doing, to some extent. Maybe it was her way of saying that she loved you enough to let you go.”
He tenses up under my touch, opening his eyes, an incredulous expression on his face. I bite my lip, and withdraw my hand, tempted to sit back on the bed. Jas’ expression softens a bit and he lies back down, thoughtful.
“Maybe…”
I lay my head down on the edge of the beanbag, stretching out.
“I believe you owe me a… explanation.”
I feel a frown tug at my lips.
“That I do.”
We stay silent for a moment before he takes a deep breath.
“My last name is Fernandez- and before you ask, yes my dad is Daniel Fernandez. Despite what everyone thinks, I’m not the stereotypical rich girl. I’ve been raising myself since the age of eight, when my dad decided against hiring any more nannies and my mom decided that attending galas was more important than getting to know her own