"Sonava bitch..."

I really don't like cursing. I don't let Oliver do it, and I certainly don't do it myself, but I just couldn't find any words to really express just how exactly pissed off I was. There were plenty of other, stronger, words that I knew, but even in my sour mood, I knew better than to say those in public. My shoulder and leg muscles burned with fury, spurring me to wail on the punching bag with even more furor. The gym was usually empty around noon on a weekday, something I was thankful for. The fewer people who saw me like this, the better. But even considering that, I hid myself in one of the smaller workout rooms.

The punching bag reeled from my assault. Back-fist, reverse punch, inverted punch, back-spinning heel kick, I smoothly shifted from one combo of attacks into another, trying to lose myself in a slew of defensive martial arts techniques. But even the satisfaction I got from my jumping ax kick wasn't enough to overcome how much anger I felt.

Leaning against the bag, I took a short break, letting my breath come back to me. I'd only rested a few seconds before an overwhelming desire to rip the bag to shreds filled my being. I kneed the bag in frustration. I felt my face screw up a bit, and my eyes started to burn.

"Benjamin?" a somewhat deep voice called to me. I froze for a moment before turning, wiping the sweat from my brow (and conveniently, the forming tears at my eyes). I'd hoped no one would see me like this. Standing at the doorway was a tall timber wolf with jet-black fur in his early twenties. His long hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and he wore a plain gray wife-beater and gym shorts. "You okay, man? Jodi said you had murder in your eyes."

"Yeah, I... okay, no, I'm really not," I muttered, punching the back again. "Ten grand, down the drain! All cause I bombed my stupid essay! All that fucking hard work and time for nothing!" I kicked the bag as hard as I could. The top of my hoof ached.

A paw clapped on my shoulder, and I deflated. I wasn't exactly muscular, but I had a good amount of tone to my body thanks to all my exercise and martial arts practice. Allan worked out all the time and had the body of a Greek god to show for it. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't envious just a little bit. I'd known Allan for just over six years now, ever since I'd started coming to this gym during summer camp, and I always worked a little harder when he was around. "You're what, sixteen, seventeen? Most kids your age aren't even thinking of college."

"Sixteen," I confirmed. "But I don't care about what other kids are doing. Money's money, and thanks to my stupid brother, that's ten thousand more dollars I'm gonna have to end up paying!"

"I thought you had a full ride to JHU?"

"I did, but only up to eighty thousand. They raised the tuition last year, so a full four years is gonna cost a hundred and ten K. That's thirty grand I gotta figure out how to pay for."

"Your parents aren't going to help you out with that?" Allan moved his paw and ruffled my hair. I hate when people do that, and I recoiled slightly. Maybe my brother liked it, but I hated having my head touched. Allan didn't seem to notice. "Seems like a steep price to put on a kid."

"I have two sisters. One's already in college, and the other's probably gonna go in next year or the year after. They can't pay for all of us."

The timber wolf shrugged. "I wouldn't stress out about it too much. A lot can change in four years."

I waved him off. "Yeah, maybe," I said, waving my hand. Allan clapped his hand on my back before taking his leave, leaving me by myself. I'd slipped up once, but he hadn't pressed the issue. My anger came to a boil again, and slammed my fists into the punching bag again, and my muscles screamed in agony. I punched and kicked and performed all sorts of maneuvers until I could barely stand, stopping only when I tripped and fell on my side.

Gyms had a very unique scent about them, the oddest cross between disgusting and alluring. I couldn't think of anything else that had such a dirty feel to them, even when they were clean. The smell of sweat and musk clung to anything and everything. Even as I rested on the cool floor, I couldn't help but feel dirty from all the exertion I'd put myself through. I lifted my head, only to let it fall back. It would take a crane to lift me up.

Or perhaps just a bit of annoying news. I hear the door crack, and Allan stuck his head through. "Hey, Ben, I hate to do this, but if your brother and his friend don't stop marking up the guardrails, we're going to have to ban him from the property."

"What the hell?" I groaned as I rolled to stand, my hooves clacking on the tile. I followed Allan through the hallways, my fists clenched tightly. What in the world was going through that idiot brother of mine's mind? Opening the gym's front doors let in a breeze that would have felt wonderful if it weren't for the fact that I was absolutely livid. Already, I could hear the clatter of a skateboard, and with that sound, I broke into a run, passing Allan and rounding the corner.

I'd been to enough skateparks with Oliver to know that the back of the gym was a skater's dream. Fitness and Health was part of a large shopping center. The docking bay here had been meant for trucks of all sizes, so there were ramps and guardrails going all sorts of directions and at different elevations. It didn't take long to spot the offenders. I watched with irritation as my brother waxed the curb next to a dumpster, the sleeves of his purple hoodie pulled up. Behind him stood an otter, probably about as tall as Oliver, balancing precariously on his board. If it weren't for the red highlights peaking from beneath his beanie, I wouldn't have been able to tell it was Sani from behind. Allan stepped up behind me. "Hey, cut that shit out!"

The two jumped and spun around, and Oliver's face paled. Sani kicked off on his board, shouting a farewell to him, but as I stormed closer, my brother just looked down at the ground. "Uh... hey, Benji..." he started.

There were just so many things I wanted to say, but Allan placed his hand on my shoulder, probably saving my brother from a bloody nose. "I didn't know you were into vandalism, Oliver," he scolded.

Oliver kicked his hoof at the pavement sheepishly. "It's not vandalism. The curb was just really hard to grind on. We were just making it easier."

"Look around you. You know how much this is going to cost?" Allan motioned and I followed his direction. Several of the guardrails, painted yellow, had hideous stripes running down where the boards had been grinding down them. Many of the lower steps and a good portion of the curb were covered in a gunky looking wax. "Go on, take a guess."

"Um," Oliver started fiddling with his wristbands. "I dunno, fifty bucks?"

"Try five hundred, probably more. The entire system of rails need to be repainted to make sure they have a uniform appearance. That wax you put on the curb? It's impossible to get out unless you use hot pressurized water. That's another six to eight hundred. You want my dad to send the bill to Mrs. Vickie?"

I don't think I'd ever seen Oliver's eyes go so wide. "What, no! Please don't tell my mom! She'll kill me!" He glanced pleadingly at me.

"You're already supposed to be grounded!" I said, my arms twitching with the need to just reach out and strangle him. "If you don't remember what Mom said, 'no skating, no video games, no tv, no hanging out with friends until your grades improve'. Plus, I'm supposed to watch over you, and you go and do this?"

"It's not like I planned this," Oliver said softly, avoiding looking at me. "I just saw Sani, and I wanted to have a little fun. I didn't think we'd cause any trouble for anyone."

"That's just it! You don't think! You never think! You don't ever think about anyone but yourself! You're just a selfish brat!" Oliver folded his arms and shrank, but I didn't care. "You don't think about the future or what consequences your actions can have! What's wrong with you? What do you think Mom's gonna say when she finds out?"

Allan shook his head. "I'll let you handle your brother, Ben. I need to give my dad a call."

As the timber wolf walked out of ear shot, Oliver started shaking. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. I turned away from him. "We're going home before you break something else."

I started to storm off, but Oliver grabbed my arm. "Wait, Benji... you really think I'm just selfish? I thought we were having fun together!"

"Don't lie. You just did that because you're sex crazed. You don't have any self-control!" I pulled my arm away from him.

"But that's not fair! I didn't make you do that stuff with me!" I heard Oliver's voice crack, but it only made me angrier. "I thought you wanted to do it because it made you happy. I thought I made you happy...."

"I'd be happier if you didn't always screw everything up. I wish we weren't twins. People would stop thinking I'm like you."

The walk home was long and uncomfortable, short in distance, but it took all of my remaining energy not to turn and take out all my frustration on my brother. We only had about ten blocks to walk, mainly neighborhoods and wooded lots, but that took almost 20 minutes. When our house finally came into view, I sped up. The driveway was empty as usual. Dad was at work, and Mom was out to lunch. I did not envy what would happen in a few hours when she came back. I unlocked the door and closed it behind me. Temptation flirted with me, and I almost locked the door, but instead, I just headed up the stairs and into the bathroom.

The shower had already filled the bathroom with steam when I heard the door open and close. Had Oliver really taken than much time to get here? He better not have been playing outside. The warm water washed over my fur, rinsing dirt and grime away, and when I stepped out, I almost felt like a new buck. I was angry still, but not quite so much. There was nothing like a relaxing shower to wash away your issues, except maybe a long bath.

I primed my ears as the water stopped running, but I couldn't pick out the sound of a TV. That was good, but that didn't mean Oliver was doing what he was supposed to. I slipped into a pair of boxers and t-shirt and crept out of the bathroom, leaning over the upstairs banister. The living room TV was off. Moving as silently as I could, I headed down to the game-room. Oliver could always be using headphones.

But the game-room was dark as well, and I found myself frowning. I started heading back to my room, but paused at the door. I could hear a faint sound, like sniffling. Peaking in, I saw Oliver, head buried under his pillow, his tail laying flat against the seat of his shorts. When I pushed the door open, he bolted upright, but quickly lowered his gaze before I could look at his eyes. "You're not playing your Gameboy, are you? Mom banned that, too, you know."

Oliver splayed his ears. "You... you really don't trust me, do you?" he asked as if some realization was dawning on him.

I trusted him to screw something up, I wanted to say, but I settled on, "You know, I don't know what to think about you," as I took a seat at my desk. Normally neat, it had become a bit of a disaster area in the past week. "I can't take anything you say seriously."

"I... I'm sorry, bro..." he whimpered, but I didn't look back at him. "I thought I was helping you relax. I really liked you, and I thought you liked me, too. I thought that if you just relaxed, you'd be happier. I mean, I know you gotta study cause you're going to college soon, but I didn't think it was gonna hurt you... I'm so sorry."

"Words. Actions speak a lot louder. Mom grounded you, and what did you do? You disobeyed her, did easily over a thousand dollars worth of damage in a manner of hours, and worst of all, did it when I was supposed to be watching over you. I had to take you with me cause you can't even be trusted to stay here by yourself without breaking the rules and watching TV or something." I looked back at him. "It's like I constantly have to babysit you."

"What do you want me to do?!" Oliver said, probably louder than he wanted, because he pulled his pillow in front of him and squeezed it. "Every day, someone or something reminds me that in a few months, you're gonna go away, and I'm not gonna be able to see you hardly at all! Everyone expects me to be like you!"

"Every single day," he continued, "people are always comparing me to you or G or even Elizabeth. I'm not a genius like you guys. You don't know what it's like when you walk up to the door of your own house and you feel like you're not even welcome there. I can't compete against you. I just can't. I need you too much. What am I going to do when you're gone?!"

"You could try growing up?"

"Growing up? What the fuck?"

"Don't curse at me," I said sharply.

"No, seriously, what the fuck? How can you just tell me to fucking grow up? And you say there's something wrong with me?" Oliver flung his pillow against the wall and tightened his fists.

I was standing, but I didn't remember doing such. "Don't fucking curse at me!"

"But you can do it to me? You're just a damn hypocrite! You call me selfish, but all you care about is you, you, you, and how everything affects you! All you care about is studying so you can get into a good school so that you can get into a good career so that you can be happy. You know what? That's fucking great! I want you to do it! But you never once fucking cared about me, did you? You were just making yourself happy when you did that stuff, weren't you? You never once cared."

Oliver reeled backwards, and only after a moment did I realize what I had done. While he talked, I'd walked over to him and punched him in the face. He clutched at his nose and looked up at me, and I felt my heart break. His hazel eyes glistened with tears, but I couldn't see any hatred in them. "Oliver," I tried, reaching out to him, but he recoiled away.

"Just... leave me alone," he whimpered, as he grabbed his pillow and pushed past me. Minutes later, I heard a door slam shut somewhere downstairs.

"Well... fuck."