Read Brother and Sister for Free Online Page B

brother.
     
    And she didn’t want him to stay. She didn’t want him near her at all, not now, not for a long time.
     
    But the old ambivalence was on her again. She couldn’t say yes to Bob, she couldn’t be what he wanted her to be. But at the same time, she couldn’t say no, either. She couldn’t simply end the relationship. She couldn’t tell him definitely that it was all over between them. She didn’t know which she wanted, not really, and until she did it was impossible for her to say anything at all.
     
    “Angie!” he called again. Paul pushed him once more, saying, “Leave Angie alone, damn it! Just leave her alone!”
     
    “Quit shoving me!” shouted Bob, beginning to get angry. “Let Angie talk for herself. You aren’t her father.”
     
    Paul stopped dead and stared at the other boy. At last, he said, softly, “You just keep putting your foot in it this morning, don’t you?”
     
    “If you’d get off my back for a minute -- ” Bob started.
     
    “I’ll get off your back,” Paul interrupted him, “as soon you get the hell out of here.”
     
    “Why?” Bob demanded. “Why should I get out? Angie and I are engaged. We’re going to be married. I ought to be here now. Ask her yourself.”
     
    “For Christ’s sake,” said Paul, “Angie’s only seventeen old. What do you mean, she’s going to marry you? She’s got years yet before she has to decide about marrying anybody. Right now, you’re just a guy she went steady with in high school, that’s all. And you don’t have any place in this house now. Nobody has any place in this house until Angie and I say so.”
     
    “Then ask her!” cried Bob.
     
    “I’m not going to ask her anything. You leave her out of this. She’s had a rough time and you’re just making it rougher.”
     
    Bob looked over to Angie again. “Tell him, Angie,” he pleaded. “Tell him it’s okay -- ”
     
    Paul shoved him again, harder this time, so that Bob almost lost his balance, flailing his arms for a second before catching himself against the wall. “I told you,” Paul said angrily, “to leave her alone. I’m not going tell you again.”
     
    Bob ignored him. “Angie -- ”
     
    Paul slapped him across the face with an open hand. “Leave her alone! ”
     
    Bob, stunned into silence, raised his hand to a cheek made red by Paul’s slap. “You better be careful, Paul,” he said. “You better be damn good and careful.”
     
    “Out you go, you stupid little twerp,” Paul said and grabbed his arm.
     
    Bob twisted away and pushed Paul to the side. “Cut it out.” He started toward Angie, saying, “You haven’t said a word, Angie. Do you want me to leave, or do you want me to stay?”
     
    Angie looked up at him, her mouth working. She didn’t know what to answer. She couldn’t say a word.
     
    Paul leaped after Bob and spun him around. “Now. Goddamn you -- ”
     
    Then the two of them started a strange, slow, grotesque dance in the living room. Neither one really wanted an open fight, so no punches were exchanged. They merely pushed and shoved at one another, Paul trying to maneuver Bob toward the front door, and Bob trying to work back toward Angie.
     
    Angie watched them, hearing the labored sound of their breathing and the scuff of their feet against the rug, seeing the tense, angry expressions on their faces, watching them move around one another, pushing and being pushed, and she wanted to scream. But any sound, any word she might utter, would be a commitment in one direction or the other. And she couldn’t do it. All she could do was sit there, her face pale and terror-stricken, watching her brother and the boy she was supposed to marry build themselves up slowly to a real fight.
     
    The first punch was thrown by Paul, a hard, short chop to Bob’s chest, still more of a shove than a punch, and Bob replied immediately with a fist to Paul’s ribs. Then the fight began in earnest.
     
    Paul was taller, heavier and