Alex

I enjoy watching her eyes get wet. I go through my silky blond hair, pushing, unable to restrain myself. And I end with a dull groan.

Sperm falls on Dasha's face and neck. She doesn't like to swallow. He considers it a perversion. I do not care. The main thing is that she sucks perfectly. He always tries as if he is doing it for the last time in his life.

The phone vibrates on the table. Father calls again. I answer the call with irritation, watching Dasha, completely naked, go to the bathroom. At the same time, she wiggles her hips so seductively that the penis comes to life again. I wince. Sorry to interrupt our sex marathon.

- Yes, I'll be there soon. I’ll stay a little longer,” I answer my father, carefully hiding my emotions.

It's my sister's birthday today. The celebration is scheduled for six in the evening, and the clock is already five forty. Dad hates when someone is late for family activities.

I end the call, put the phone down and get dressed. But at least twenty minutes pass before Dasha leaves the bathroom. It takes forever to gather, although I warned that I was in a hurry.

I fold my arms across my chest and look at Dasha with displeasure. She walks up to me and kisses me awkwardly on the cheek. There was a guilty expression on her face. There is always one trouble with girls: they are late, pretend, brazenly lie in the face, take revenge on the former, agreeing to lose their innocence with the first person they meet.

But now is not about that.

“I think I said how important this event is,” I look accusingly at Dasha.

Your hair dryer is broken. I couldn’t leave with wet hair, she justifies herself. “You'd better call your driver, since you can't give me a ride home yourself.

"Why should I pick you up?" - I put her down. I don't want to overthink myself.

After the liar Christina ran out of my apartment, I was angry at the whole world. From the very beginning, after all, he suspected that something was wrong with the girl: she behaved too strangely, she seemed too inexperienced, she blushed and was embarrassed at any hint of sex.

It turned out that she was a virgin.

Thanks for letting me know, I really appreciate it!

I do not mess with stupid innocent young ladies who have jelly instead of brains. Girls rarely share sex and feelings. Especially virgins. I saw that Christina looked at me with admiration and touched me in a way that no one touched. She must have had a drink before our chance meeting. Otherwise, how to explain her incomprehensible behavior?

It is a pity that the evening broke off. I was set for a different ending. But it's better than taking responsibility for the first sexual experience of an unfamiliar girl.

Christina left, but I couldn’t calm down. Well, she turned me on. I remembered how she touched my face, how she touched my tattoos, how humid and hot it was between her legs.

At that moment, Dasha called. For some reason, I accepted the challenge and listened to her confused apologies. And then he invited me to his house. And he didn't let her sleep all night. He fucked Dasha, and saw Christina in front of him and her eyes clouded with passion.

And then I found blue lenses on the sink.

The girl was a liar from the start. This infuriated me. But then I easily threw Christina out of my head. I hate pretense and lies.

And Dasha and I have been meeting for a week from time to time to have sex, and then disperse in different directions. Ideal relationship format. No one fools anyone and does not build inflated expectations.

“You said that you don’t care about your half-sister,” Dasha wonders, reading my annoyance.

- Yes, I don’t care, but I love and respect my father. And he does not tolerate delay.

Dasha nods and, sighing, gets dressed. Slowly, making smooth movements. She knows that I'm watching her. I missed two rounds, so I'm late now. A broken hair dryer has nothing to do with it.

I escort Dasha to the car and kiss her on the lips, and she suddenly sticks to me, as if we were seeing each other for the last time.

I get to my parents' house in ten minutes. I stop and look at the two-story building. There are so many memories associated with him that you can't count them all.

It seems that the half-sister turns twenty-one years old. I haven't seen her since I left this country. However, I do not think Mika has changed much. She probably still reads romance books, wears silly prints, and stutters when she gets excited. Her last feature seemed to me even cute.

But other than that, my half-sister was that annoying clingy one.

Only we will be at Mika's birthday party: me, dad, his wife and the hero of the occasion herself. Fireworks are scheduled for 9pm. Father loves Mika and spares nothing for her.

His main request is that I must attend the celebration. In addition, Saturday and Sunday are family days.

I'm completely out of the habit of daddy's troubles. At twenty-seven, you are already completely separated from your parents, which is quite natural. However, it is worth returning to your small homeland - and the ghosts of the past cloud your mind again.

I go into the house. Quiet music plays on the ground floor.

“Hello, Alex,” my father’s wife greets me.

"Good evening," I nod politely. I don't like my father's companion, but I accepted his choice a long time ago.

— Vasily cooks meat. Mika is sitting with him in the summer pavilion,” she says, in what seems to me an excited voice.

- Thanks.

I push the transparent door and see my father standing by the barbecue. He grills steaks or kebabs until I figure out what it is. But the smell is amazing. I shift my gaze to the right. Mika is resting at the table. All I see is her back and her dark hair pulled back into a ridiculous bun. Yeah, not a very festive hairstyle. Nothing has changed in five years. As I expected.

“Well hello, sister,” I say, coming closer.

Mika turns around. And the first thing I notice is her massive horn-rimmed glasses. And then a burning, angry look directed at me.

4.2

Mom frowns, confusion in her eyes. While I choose deliberately stupid clothes, she tramples at the threshold and does not dare to ask what is happening to me. Delicate. Or they just don't want to know the answer. This also happens.

- Is this normal? I put on a T-shirt with a picture of a cat in headphones and look at my mother.

“Quite,” she replies evasively. “But today is your birthday,” he finally adds.

- So what? I have already celebrated twenty birthdays. And who knows how many of them will be ahead. So what does it matter what I'm wearing?

You used to love dressing up.

“Uh-huh,” I mumble. No, this t-shirt won't fit. I'd rather put on purple, with an obscene word. Such a message to Alexander. He probably won't take the hint, though.

I clench my jaw, a flash of anger dousing from head to toe. As soon as I remember my half-brother, a flame flares up inside. But this is not excitement, not joy, not holy awe. And healing anger.

It's easier to hate than to love.

Are you nervous about Alexander? - Finally, mom voices her guesses.

I just nod. What can you say? Mom doesn't know what happened between me and my stepbrother. It's not customary to tell your parents about this. Only Lenka I confessed. She took pity on me. We drank red wine and discussed cruel men who don't appreciate our feelings. It became easier.

And today Alexander should come to my birthday. I don't want him to recognize me! It is easier to erase that night from memory than to see contempt, hatred or pity in his eyes. He will probably think that I was completely desperate if I pretended to be Christina and inserted colored lenses just to sleep with him.

Well, in that case, Alexander would be right. I did something stupid. Dementia and courage - that was my motto. And as a reward, I received humiliation and tears in my pillow.

— No, Mom, I don't care about Alexander. I'm fed up with birthdays, that's all. You don't have any reason to worry.

Mom sighs heavily, stomps for a while at the door, and then leaves. The holiday is about to begin, stepfather has already got the barbecue, the meat will fry. He has very tasty steaks and kebabs, I always eat them to satiety.

I go to the mirror and put my hair in a bun. I remove my lenses, apply moisturizer to my face, and then pull out the forgotten case containing my old, ugly glasses. Let Alexander see Mika in front of him, whom he cannot stand, and not desperate Christina, who wants to say goodbye to innocence.

I go to the summer terrace, smile at my stepfather, who raises his eyebrows in surprise, but does not comment on my appearance. The clock is already half past seven, Alexander is late. It's immediately clear that he treats my birthday as an obligation.

My heart skips a beat when I hear footsteps behind me.

- Hello, sister.

He says it easily and naturally, his tone is even mocking. I instantly tense up. I close my eyes for a second to collect my thoughts. And suppress this jubilant delight that arose in the solar plexus.

“Hello,” I say casually, looking at the bridge of Alexander’s nose. I can't see it, it hurts.

- Happy Birthday.

Great congratulations, thank you very much! How would I live without these important words?

Alexander comes up to his father, talks to him about something, turns the meat on the grill and smiles. Broadly, sincerely. I look at his beautiful face, at his eyes shining with joy, and press my hand to my heart. It is torn from the chest, it is not easy for him now.

It is impossible to 100% hate your first love.

I go into the house, take out a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drink from the neck. Quickly, greedily, in large sips. I'm shaking.

We can cancel everything. Or transfer. Let's say that you feel bad, - Mom says affectionately. She was in the kitchen all this time and watched my actions.

- No need, I'm an adult girl, already an adult in all countries, so I can handle it. Don't worry, Mom, I assure her, and myself as well.

I return to my stepfather and stepbrother. Alex is sitting at the table, right where I was a few minutes ago! Rude type.

“It smells amazing,” I go up to my stepfather and inhale the aroma of fried meat. - I'm already drooling.

“We’re about to try,” he says, and pulls out a vibrating phone from his pocket. “Mick, can you watch the meat?” I'll be back soon. Urgent call.

- Oh sure.

Alexander and I are left alone. He still sits at the table and chats with someone. Doesn't look in my direction. I should breathe a sigh of relief, but I can't. I feel invisible. It's like I'm being pushed off a cliff into an abyss of painful memories. I felt exactly the same way five years ago when I received only one ignore from my half-brother.

My chest hurts, my fingers tremble as I try to flip the steaks. It's time to take them off. My stepfather is gone for a long time, so I take plates and put meat on them. One piece flies to the ground, causing me to stomp my foot in annoyance. Well, what's with the clumsiness?

- Heck! - I'm crazy. My nerves are on edge, so many different emotions are seething in me that they urgently need a way out.

“You don’t respect your father’s work at all,” Alexander mockingly comments. My whole body shudders when I feel him coming.

“No one asked your opinion,” I snap angrily.

- You got up on the wrong foot, Mika? he squints indignantly.

“No, I’m just really glad to see you, prodigal son,” I say with caustic sarcasm.

- What did you just say? Alexander looms over me. His eyes blaze with anger, I read his irritation, which is why everything inside is covered with a thin crust of ice. Freezes. And then it shatters into pieces.

Because Alexander for the first time this evening pays attention to me. Looks in the face, waiting for some answer.

Tense, angry, beautiful.

And vulnerable.

The prodigal son is the one who left the parental home, and then after many years of wandering returned back. Alexander fits this description. And he knows this very well. Five years ago, he went abroad because he was angry with his father. Vasily Andreevich insisted that his son work in his company, while Alexander never liked the construction business. Because of this, they often quarreled, I once overheard their skirmish and then for a long time I could not come to my senses.

When misunderstanding reigns between loved ones, it hurts me. I feel physical discomfort because I take everything to heart.

Now the relationship between father and son seems to have improved, but with my careless phrase, I reminded Alexander of the past.

He is angry with me because he is unpleasant, and maybe even ashamed of his actions.

“I got excited,” I say quietly.

We meet eyes. It takes my breath away how close it is. I can raise my hand and touch his face. Feel the smoldering sparks on your fingertips, hold your breath - and not even notice it.

Alexander scans my face and my rapidly heaving chest. I can't recognize his emotions. But paranoia, my favorite long-awaited paranoia, happily flaps its wings.

It seems like another second - and Alex will see Christina in me.

“From now on, think before you speak,” he drops in a cold, distant voice.

And, picking up plates of meat, he goes to the table at which we will celebrate my birthday with the whole family.

A minute later, the stepfather returns. He apologizes for his long absence and praises me for putting the steaks away in time.

Mom and our housekeeper Oksana serve the table in a matter of minutes. Initially, we were going to celebrate my birthday in the living room, but I changed my mind at the last minute. The weather is beautiful outside, the sun is warm and gentle in spring, and not a single cloud is visible in the sky! Especially soon sunset. I love watching him.

His back and neck tingle from Alexander's gaze. What does he need? I never noticed, and then suddenly, after one phrase, you decided to examine me from all sides?

Or saw a resemblance to a non-existent Christina?

“I’ll be right back,” I tell my family.

I can't take it anymore, I need a break! I run to the second floor and lean against the wall. I breathe often, often, with anguish, loudly.

I want to hate Alexander! Why am I not getting anything? I do try.

Someone is walking up the stairs. My heart already knows the correct answer. I adjust my glasses and look defiantly at my stepbrother.

- Running away from your own birthday party? he chuckles.

- You thought.

- Come on? He arches his left eyebrow. - What else did I think?

- How should I know? I shrug. I'm brave.

“I thought you knew everything about me… Christina,” he lowers his voice on the last word. And he takes a step towards me. “You think I’m blind and won’t understand anything?”