His Heartwarming Secret

I search my backpack until I find the keys and let myself into the house.

"Hello?" I call out, pushing open the door and stepping inside. "Dad? Are you here?"

No answer.

He usually leaves for work early in the morning before Jedd and I wake up and doesn't return until late at night. I don't see much of him and Jedd is more of a parent to me which isn't Dad's fault. I've always been grateful for both of them but I do wish I could see Dad more often.

I sigh and drop my backpack in the hallway before heading straight for the kitchen. Whenever I'm home alone, the house instantly becomes eerie. . . Like I'm starring in a horror movie. I pull open the fridge, glancing inside at the contents —

Milk, cheese, a few takeaway boxes from last night and one single strawberry yoghurt. Fabulous.

I let out a low groan, hearing my stomach rumble from the lack of food I've consumed today. I don't ever eat lunch at school, the cafeteria is too intimidating for me. Walking inside a room crammed with students chattering and socialising is my idea of a nightmare. Instead I'd throw a sandwich or an apple inside my bag and eat it outside in the comfort of my own company.

My eyes scan the kitchen and land on a note stuck to the front of the fridge. Sprawled across it messily is my Dad's handwriting —

Casserole in the oven, see you both tonight. Dad x

with a drink and some carrot sticks before heading upstairs. My room is my safe haven and I can spend the rest of my life locked

and find myself

*****

and I pause the movie, sniffling a little —

yell, my voice wobbling slightly. The door opens and Jedd appears, looking alarmed at my tear stricken face.

shaking his head. I don't miss his lips

reply, shutting my laptop screen and sitting up on my bed. I grab a cushion and hold it close to

to live. They both go on this epic journey to do awesome things together before

the end of my bed. I watch him out of curiosity, wondering

"What is this . . . a one man intervention?" I joke half heartedly.

think we should talk." Jedd responds slowly, choosing his words

with the string coming undone on my fuzzy pyjama

did school

the floor to avoid holding eye contact with me. I practically see the pity

was

room so Jedd can't see any expression on my face. I've never told him how difficult school is for me, admitting to your sibling that you're struggling isn't exactly easy to do. Jedd has always been popular, surrounded by constant friends. He wouldn't