Quinlan, a restless and determined individual, finds himself at odds with his mother's constant lectures on being a role model. Faced with the impending arrival of his mom, he swiftly takes action, locking his bedroom door in an attempt to buy himself some time. As his mother's voice echoes outside, Quinlan contemplates the possibility of moving out and becoming roommates with his best friend, Teagan. Despite Teagan's persistent rejections, Quinlan remains confident in his ability to sway her. Just as he contemplates his next move, his mom's voice cuts through the barrier, mentioning a conversation about his younger brother, Jersey. Though Quinlan feels the weight of responsibility to set an example for his brother, frustration tinges his response, emphasizing his preoccupation with more immediate concerns such as homework.
Chapter 1 Locked Away
I hear the footsteps echo in the distance, signaling the impending arrival of my mom. Quickly, I leap off my bed and hastily lock my bedroom door before she has a chance to get too close.
"Quinlan! Where are you?" her voice calls out.
Don't get me wrong, I adore my mom more than anything, but enduring yet another lecture on proper role-modeling is pushing me to my breaking point. If I have to sit through another one, I might just pack up my things and move out. Seriously, I mean it this time. Especially now that my best friend Teagan has her own apartment, the possibility is there. Although she consistently declines my offers to become roommates, I know I can wear her down eventually. No one can resist my unwavering determination, after all.
"Quinlan?" I hear my mom's voice through the door, her hand checking the barrier between us. "I know you're in there. Listen, I need to talk to you about Jersey."
Ah, my little brother. The sole sibling I'm supposed to set an example for. Thankfully, he's the only one who still bothers to stick around. The twins, on the other hand, are far too consumed by their social lives to spare much time for family matters.
"I'm busy, Mom!" I shout back, frustration seeping into my voice. "Homework!"
"You're out of school and not taking summer courses. Open up," my mom insists.
Little does she know, I'm actually in the midst of a significant project. However, I choose to keep this information to myself, fully aware of how she would react if she discovered the truth.
Reluctantly, I rise from my seat and crack the door open, meeting my mom's inquisitive gaze. "Mom, seriously. I'm working on some financials right now, and I really need to focus," I explain.
"Financials? For what?" she asks, her brow furrowing.
"Just a project one of my... uh... professors assigned me towards the end of the semester. It's extra credit stuff," I hastily respond, hoping she'd buy my explanation.
She frowns, skepticism evident on her face. "How do you expect to get extra credit for a class that has already ended?"
I roll my eyes and huff out a frustrated sigh, as if she's the one being unreasonable. "Mom, can you please give me a break? It's not like I'm doing something terrible here. I'm simply working."
"Jersey just devoured another chapstick," I chuckle. "Jersey definitely has an eclectic taste. I guess we should appreciate his adventurous nature."
She places her hands on her hips, her frustration evident. "One of these days, Jersey is going to get sick from your carelessness. I need you to start acting more responsibly when it comes to him."
"Mom, I'm twenty-two. I'm an adult," I retort.
"Adults don't leave hazardous things lying around for babies to put in their mouths," she reprimands.
"Mom, seriously? Jersey is already twelve years old and as bright as a broken lightbulb. It's time to stop blaming me for his lack of common sense," I reply before slamming the door in her face and locking it again. A victorious dance ensues as I revel in the satisfaction of knowing my choice of words will provoke her. She knows it's all in good humor and that I would do anything to protect my little brother, but that doesn't mean I won't stir the pot whenever I can. Pushing her buttons is quite thrilling.
"Quinlan, open this door!" she demands.
"I will if you stop breathing down my neck," I bargain.
"Open it."
"I'll tell Dad."
A pause ensues as she contemplates her next move. We both understand what will happen if I involve him. He's not fooling himself that my little brother will become the next brain surgeon. We all accept the reality that the kid will barely graduate sixth grade, except for my mom. And my dad isn't a fan of her habit of blaming others for Jersey's nonsense, so she tends to save it for when he's not around.
"You better be earning extra credit on your project," she finally remarks.
"Oh, trust me. I am," I reply with confidence. This summer, I'm determined to help my best friend reclaim her rightful inheritance no matter what.
"I need you to take Jersey to his doctor's appointment later."
"What time?"
"Two o'clock. I have to meet with his therapist and devise a new plan for him. The current one isn't yielding great results."
"Fine, I'll handle it. Now please leave me alone so I can focus."
"Quinlan?"
Her voice carries a tinge of sadness, and I can't help but open the door. "Yes, dear mommy?" I grin, trying to lighten the mood from our previous conversation.
"I would appreciate it if you could please be more cautious about leaving tempting things within reach of your brother," I calmly and rationally express. I playfully lean out of the doorway, hoping for a kiss. When my mom complies and kisses me, I flash a smile. "Don't worry, Mom. When I am rich and famous, I'll pay to have him taken care of in a nice home," I reply, quickly retreating into my room and locking the door before she can catch me.
"Quinlan! That's not funny!" she calls out.
"Yes, it is," I respond, returning to my bed. Deep down, we both know I would never take such action, even if it could make everyone's lives easier. My brother Jersey, although energetic, lacks the same level of intelligence as other boys his age due to a birth canal accident. He can be quite a handful, but we adore him nonetheless. It's likely that he will become my roommate when our parents are no longer able to handle him. And when that time comes, I might just let him indulge in all the chapstick he desires. After all, it smells good and it hasn't harmed any of us when we've tried it before.
"I'll send him up," my mom's voice fades as she walks away down the hall.
"Mom, no!" I shout, stumbling towards the door. I swing it open just in time to see her disappearing around the corner. "Mom! I have work to do!"
"You're an adult. Adults often work and take care of kids," she says.
"But he's not my child!"
"Figure it out, Quinlan."
"Stop calling me Quinlan!" I slam the door shut, allowing frustration to release through steam coming out of my ears. Damn. Foiled again. Now, how in the world am I going to complete this report in time for Teagan's attorney appointment?
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