The Weight of Destiny by Nyrae Dawn

Man’—like I was important; like they couldn’t pull the job without me. I was the guy who made sure nothing went down.
    Even though it wasn’t a planned gig, they knew what they were doing. It didn’t take Dad long to get into the store—it never did. In and out, that’s what Dad always said. In and out in under ninety seconds. It was thirty seconds when some guy tried to turn down the alley. I had less than a minute to get him as far away as I could, or he’d see them coming out with things they shouldn’t have.
    And I’d done it. Dad and his friends gave me a small cut and a beer that night. They called me a man. They said I’d saved the day. I’d never really saved anything before, but the words were like a fucking rush. Even then I knew I wanted to hold onto that feeling.
    After that, Dad decided birthdays were lucky. His birthday, mine, Luke’s. We always did something big after that; usually something illegal, but we were always lucky and we always celebrated big.
    That’s why I find someone to buy me a twelve-pack of beer tonight, and that’s why I buy a bunch of food that costs more than the shit we normally buy, wishing for the millionth time that I could just take it. It’s Dad's birthday, and Luke and I should celebrate it the way Dad would do for us.
    Luke sighs as he closes the door. He’s wearing his standard uniform, black pants and a Polo shirt. He got his hair trimmed so it’s shorter than mine, clean cut. He turns and sees me sitting on the couch with a beer in my hand. His eyes dart toward the kitchen, and there’s all sorts of crap in there. Way too much food for the two of us.
    “What the hell are you doing, Ry? And who said you can drink?”
    I don’t know why, but I let him rip the can from my hand.
    “Where’d you get the money for this?” Luke runs a hand through his hair. “Jesus, don’t tell me you’re stealing or selling drugs. Third strike. Why do I have to keep reminding you of this?”
    Anger erupts inside me, a seething volcano that has no choice but to release its wrath. My legs shake as I shove to my feet, ignoring that twitch in the side of my head. “Like I could ever forget if I wanted to. All you do is shove it down my throat! I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking trying to be cool with you. It’s not like you ever wanted to be a part of this family.”
    I try to head for the door but Luke grabs my arm. “Are you kidding me? I’m here, aren’t I? He’s the one who’s not. He’s the one who chose dirty jobs over us and then bailed. Where’d the money come from man?” he asks again.
    I sold my hoodie to a kid at school who wanted it. Tanner gave me some shit out of his house that his parents would never know was gone, so I sold those too. I might as well have stolen it, the way Luke’s acting. At least I’d be getting in trouble for actually doing the one thing I’m good at.
    Luke’s fingers dig into my arm, his eyes holding mine, both of them fiery.
    “Stealing,” I lie. “What else? You’re lucky it’s something small and not B&E or jacking a car. I’m good at that shit.”
    It’s then that Luke’s eyes soften. My body gets tighter, more wound-up, a shaken can ready to explode.
    “Celebrating his birthday isn’t going to make him come back for you.”
    Boom.
    The lid bursts off and I jerk my arm free of Luke’s hold. “Maybe it’s because of you. He won’t come back for me because you’re here and he knows you’d rat him out.”
    I make it to the door before Luke says, “Don’t go, Ry. Why are we always doing this? You’re my brother. Talk to me.”
    Wrong. He hates Dad, and I know that’s who he sees when he looks at me. Everyone says I’m just like Dad. I’m the guy who Luke assumes is selling drugs, stealing, or the one he thinks will hurt Virginia. “ You’re always doing this, not me. And we’re not brothers in the ways that matter.”
    You can’t choose your blood. You don’t have to want to be with them.