The longest day in my life started out with clear signs of being the shittiest.
Getting a call at 3AM from a distraught family member is pretty much a guarantee that everything is about to go downhill. Maybe subterranean.
Arriving at the source of the disturbance, tired and holding two coffees to find your sister sitting by in a shock blanket watching as people spray water at the smouldering wreck of her apartment is kind of stomach twisting. She didn't look like someone who had their entire life and career on track anymore. Just a twenty-something year old woman in shock.
"Here, Jaz. You probably need this."
She took it and looked at me like I had three heads, "You stopped for coffee?"
"Drivethrough." I said and sat down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. "Sorry, I was exhausted. We didn't need two accidents today. Any ideas?"
Jasmine took on a kind of glassy-eyed look and I regretted bringing it up. I didn't know how to talk to someone who had woken up with their apartment on fire. Somewhere she'd been living for five years, just... Gone.
"I've still got the spare bedroom." I said quickly, trying to pretend I hadn't just deep-throated my foot, "Do we need to talk to anyone before getting you out of here?"
She shook her head silently, "I can... Cop told me to call someone. That's why I called you. I didn't... Know what to do."
"We'll sort it out tomorrow." I said sensibly and stood up, holding out a hand. "Least you don't have to crash on a couch."
The blanket slipped from her shoulders as she stood up, and I kind of felt my mind go blank for half a second. Her pale skin highlighted in the mix of moonlight and crackling fire. Her silk pyjama top falling off one shoulder, buttons only haphazardly done up.
I tried to bury that thought before it became even more embarrassing and shameful. Just because we were brother and sister didn't mean I was incapable of noticing she was a grown woman.
"Ow." Jasmine said, hopping on the rough gravel road. She was barefoot, of course. Stopping for shoes or slippers wouldn't have been the first thing on her mind.
I sighed, "Want me to carry you?"
"No!" Jaz snapped, way harsher than was called for. She flushed red for a moment, and bit her lip, before whispering. "Sorry. No. That'd be... Embarrassing. We're not kids."
"You're walking down the road in your sleep clothes." I pointed out, "Besides, I had to park around the corner. You're not going to hobble that far."
"I am not being carried. Deal with it." Jasmine snapped.
I put up my hands defensively, "You're the boss. Fine. Uh... Wanna walk on my feet, like when we were kids, then? Still embarrassing, but then everyone will just assume we're drunk."
She burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the suggestion, "Drunk. So much better than newly weds. Fine, I'm too tired to argue. But if you drop me, I'm dropkicking something else."
I hadn't actually been serious.
Jaz positioned her feet atop mine, clinging to my wrists tight enough to hurt, and we tried to awkwardly walk passed all the emergency services to where I'd parked.
More than one or two people laughed at us, but like they thought it was sweet, and not crazy. Brother swoops in to cheer up his sister after her world burns down. Or something.
A hundred meters later, I couldn't agree.
There was nothing sweet about what was going on in my head as Jasmine was trying and failing to keep her waistband up. She kept catching the pants under her foot, yanking down to reveal her flawless skin.
Which, I would have been able to cope with, if it didn't ride down low enough to show that her hips were bare, and the top of her asscrack. There was no way she was wearing so much as a g-string.
The thought that it was only a matter of time before she ended up flashing the entire street might be a fearful one, but it involved my vivid imagination, and that picture was not one that could be shaken easily.
I stopped walking, and Jaz glared back at me, "What, now?"
"Yep. Screw this." I said and picked her up in my arms, yanking up her pants as I did, and holding onto the waistband to keep them up.
Jaz squealed in surprise, and put her arms around my neck to steady herself. She glared at me as I started walking at a decent pace, "I said no!"
"Sorry, but I did not like waiting for the wardrobe malfunction." I replied, waiting for a slap, "But, hey, look. We got to the car."
I put her down gently, whilst she glared daggers at my back.
I circled the car, unlocking it and climbing in. The car was an utter shitbox, the passenger door only opened from the inside. It was enough to get by in the city, though.
I leaned over and pushed open the door, and put the coffee I had not failed to spill several times into the console. Jaz put hers beside, our hands brushing gently. Not something I would have noticed, if she hadn't jerked away.
I thought that she'd been embarrassed.
Now, I was thinking I was her last resort and that maybe I had missed that my sister hated my guts.
She pulled the belt on and crossed her arms, "You waiting for a signal? I'm cold and tired and stressed. Let's go to your place already."
"Want to grab anything on the way?" I asked, "Could pick up some comfort food or something?"
"Warm bed, Caleb." Jaz said firmly, with a tone suggesting that if I even responded she was going to carve out my eye with a rusty spoon.
The car sputtered for a moment before the engine turned over, and then clattered as I pulled away from the curb.
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I became utterly convinced that Jaz hated my guts when we got back to my flat. Upon getting in the front door, I pointed out the bathroom and her room.
She stormed into said bedroom without talking to me and slammed the door. Talk about flashbacks to when we lived under our parent's roof. I didn't know a grown woman could be just as terrifying as a teenager with as few words.
So, I collapsed into my own bed for the three hours I might be able to sleep before I had to head out to work. Except, I couldn't sleep.
I kept seeing her as she stood up. Her skin really had been flawless. With her blank expression, she had felt like something ethereal, otherworldly.
Jaz had always had a fae-like quality to her.
Back when we were both teenagers she had a crowd of people who had followed her around, waiting on her hand and foot like she was a princess. She'd never asked anyone to do it, but people were drawn to her.
She also never seemed to get mad at anyone. Defusing fights and arguments with a cool voice, and somehow managing to convince the other party that she was right just by opening her mouth. Every single time.
Well... She never got mad at anyone except me.
I, on the other hand, had got into more screaming matches with her than we'd had actual conversations. I always seemed to do the wrong damn thing, then things would get heated, and I would find myself saying something I knew I regretted even before I finished.
Not that there wasn't give and take. We were siblings. Jaz had picked her own share of fights over the years, and hurt me in ways that still stung to remember.
