My Step-brother and his Best Friend


Chapter One





POV: Zen Ishan Boyd

"Can I get my hand back then?" I ask Ian quietly. Sitting on his lap was making me a little nervous. I knew Ian a little too well, he didn't do nice things for the sake of it. He didn't say anything and continued to stroke my hand, pressing down ever so slightly. I could feel the tense knot ease away. The man knew how to fix a sore hand, that's for sure. A couple of minutes passed and then he dropped my hand, I almost got a fright when he did it.

"Get off," he ordered. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and clambered off him, "Where the fuck did Ashley go?" He said.

"He left. He said bye and you ignored him," I answer him coldly. He was back to usual again. He raked a hand through his brown hair, almost in frustration.

"Tell dad I'm staying at Ashley's."

"What! I'm not your Benson," I reply angrily. He gave me a look the one that said I'd do it anyway so why was I even bothering, to put up a tough act.

"Whatever," he replies. He gets off the couch and heads towards the hallway. I hear the door open and slam as he leaves the house. I sit back down on the couch and grab the remote that lay on the arm rest. I hated being alone at home, it freaked me out for some reason. Mum and dad where staying at a hotel for the night - and I did not need anymore information than that.

I flicked the TV back on and the girl was still being chased by a guy with a chainsaw. What happened to good horror movies? It seemed like deranged Paris Hilton's were making movies nowadays. I took off the TV and got back up, looking at my watch it was already half eleven at night and most of my mates would be out and about. I made my way up the dark stairwell and down the hall. My room was the last one down the hall, whilst Ian had the whole attic. I kick open my door and flip on my lamp. My room was pretty clean for a guy, except my desk which was a mess. Half my university books were open and lay sprawled messily on the pine table. I had a Economics exam in a couple of weeks, and I was already freaking out about that. I quickly strip down to my boxers and get into bed, leaving my clothes in a pile in the middle of the room. Pulling back my duvet I get in, shivering at the cool sheets against my warm skin. Deciding to forget Ian and Ashley, I opt to get a good night sleep, I quickly feel into a deep slumber.


"Zen get up!"

One thing about my mum - she can scream for a small woman. Her voice jostled me out of my deep sleep and I almost hit the ground because of her.

"Yeah. I'm up," I yell back. My mum new my university timetable by heart. The woman never let me miss one day of school never mind letting me miss university now. Ian was still in school, last year. Chances were he wasn't going to be heading towards any further education, so all my mum had left was me. She didn't want me to go away to university and to be honest neither did I. I applied to university and got in to do Social Sciences and French. I've always wanted to be a social worker, but I wanted to learn a language that allowed me to work abroad. I loved France and anything to do with it, so I picked French. It didn't hurt that I was great at the language either.

I pulled the duvet off myself and headed towards the bathroom to do my morning rituals.


I was unlucky that I had a Tuesday morning class. It annoyed me because I've never been a morning person. Grabbing my school bag and chucking in the books I needed I headed down to the kitchen where mum was making breakfast and Paul was reading the morning paper. I dropped my bag near my chair and sat down.

"Hello Zen," said Paul still reading his paper. I merely grunted at him which made my mum laugh. She placed a croissant and an apple in front of me. She knew I couldn't eat too much in the mornings.

"Where's Ian?" She asks.

I sigh loudly, "Ashley's." She whispers something quietly. Paul pulls back his newspaper and stares at my mum.

"He'll be at school."

My mum laughs but it's almost bitter, "Who are you kidding Paul, because believe me it isn't me."

Paul sighs and places his newspaper on the table. My mum sets down a plate of eggs and toast in front of him.

"I'll talk to him tonight."

"You talk to him all the time, but he never listens. I don't understand why he thinks he doesn't need to go to school."

"He's being a rebel that's all," says Paul.

"He's been a rebel since the day he's been born. Honestly he needs to get a reality check. If he thinks he'll be getting fed and clothed for the rest of his life he has another thing coming." My mum slams down a bottle of orange juice and grabs her bag as she leaves the kitchen and slams the front door on her way out to work.

I look over at Paul and he sighs heavily almost defeated. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. After all children are brought up by how their parents teach them to be. I'm very much towards the nurture side of the nature/nurture argument.

I quickly wolf down my croissant and pour myself some orange juice. Slurping the juice nosily, I finish the whole glass and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I get up and grab my apple, saying a quick bye to Paul, I grab my bag and head out to train station.


It took me a train into the city centre and a subway to get me to my university, also adding on a ten minute walk. It was a bitch and half, but I was too lazy to actually take driving lessons and taking the trains wasn't too bad.

The air was crisp and harsh and the wind blew hard against my face. I tried to pull my jacket up closer to my cheeks so the gale wouldn't slap me so hard. I really needed to invest in a hat and scarf. I approached the library and descended down the slop towards the main gates of the university.

I still didn't know my timetable by heart, so I fumbled with my bag and pulled out the sheet off paper that held my class details. Quickly scanning the sheet, I found the subject and class I was in and put the paper back into my bag. I headed towards my Politics class, taking the lift to the third floor after I entered the rear building. Stepping inside the lift I pressed three, and shuffled back a few steps, so my back hit against the glass behind me. I let my eyes scan around the lift, gazing at the two boys who were giggling about something, to the girl who tapped her foot impatiently.

The lift stopped at floor three and I pushed off the glass, and glided passed the girl and out into the hall. The hall way was lit with a few bulbs. It gave the hall a dark and eerie atmosphere. Taking a right I made, my way down the hall and stopped in front of room 312a, realising I was the only one there, due to the fact the seminar didn't start for, another ten minutes.

I took my ipod intent on listening to some of the new Kaiser Chief songs, when I was thumped hard on my back.

"Hey loser," I roll my eyes as James drops his bag in front of the class door, and gives me a goofy smile.

"Do you have to beat me up every time you see me?" I ask him mildly annoyed.

"Of course. That's how we work," I shook my head and put my ipod back into my bag. James and I had been friends for a few years. He had moved to Scotland in his fifth year, and ended up being placed in my class. We didn't necessarily hit it off from the get go, but were rather forced together me being his tour guide for the first week. After two months, we were inseparable.

"So did you do the reading for the class?" He asked.

"Of course. I know you didn't."

"How'd you guess," he grinned at me, "So what did you do last night?"

My mind flashed back to Ian and his odd behaviour and Ashley. I felt myself flush.

"Oh! What happened?"

I grinned at James, knowing that he accepted me for who I was, "I got off work, Ian was a prick and didn't pick me up."

"As usual then," he said rolling his eyes.

"Yeah. Anyway I got home, and found him and Ashley making out with these two girls."

"How fascinating."

"It sure was," I smile, "But then me and Ian got into a fight, and I punched him."

"Holy shit. You did?" said James, before laughing.

"Yeah. It was stupid. I can't even punch properly, I hurt my hand bad."


"Fuck you. Anyway after I punched him, he grabbed my hand and started massaging it for me. Not only that he made me sit on his lap."

"Whaat? What the fuck is that about? I thought he hated you, no offence mate."

I shrug my shoulders, "Who knows. Ashley was just sitting there and smiling at Ian. It was weird, and then he up and left, with the two girls."

"Then what happened?"

"Ian sat massaging my hand for awhile. Then he demanded I get off him, and left the house."

James laughed again, rubbing his forehead, "Those guys are weird as hell. I feel sorry for you."

"Of course you should, firstly I have to live with one, and secondly I have a crush on the other."

"Shit man, you don't still have the jonsies for Ashley? How long has it been two years?"

I suddenly felt defensive, "It's not my fault."

"I know but Zen, it's not like you talk to him, he pretty much ignores you. What is there to like?"

"Fuck off. What do you care."

He looks away and then back at me again, I suddenly feel like I'm missing something, "All I'm saying is that you deserve some so much better. Ash ain't one of those guys."

"How do you know," I asked pissed off. James gives a frustrated sigh, "Why won't you just trust me on this?"

"Because I want to know why you have reasons to think he's a bad guy. Yeah he hangs around with Ian, but he's never done anything."

"Just leave it," he says sadly.


"Shit! You think Ash is some great guy, all quiet and mysterious. Yeah Zen he's good looking but believe me that's all he's got."

"So what you're saying, that I'm shallow. The only reason like him because he's good looking."

"To be honest, yeah."

I feel myself flush with embarrassment and anger. Before I could say anything James barrelled forward, "He's a bastard Zen, he fucks you, messes with your head, and then leaves you. All because he thinks he's all that."

"What?" I blurt out.

"Yeah Zen, me and Ash fucked around for awhile. Did so before you told me you fancied him. Fuck I was so into him, thought I might have loved him. Didn't get that far before he dumped me."

"You...never...I mean..."

"What was I going to say? Not like I could anyway. He's just bad news man, all I'm saying is forget about him. He's just a player."

Suddenly I felt life was about to get more complicated than I thought.




Copyright 2006 Lidyah Khan : feedback is love : for updates

Word count: 2060