There has always been something about my older brother, something incredible that I just could never put my finger on.
Growing up, my brother and I hung out all the time. When I was nine, I had found a small rock turtle in a creek near our home. Excited, I wrapped it up in my shirt and brought it to my brother. When I showed it to him, he grabbed the turtle and threw it down on the rocks near the stream. He slammed his heel into the shell and then kicked it into the water with a laugh.
Outside, while we played, he would kick my ass and send me in tears back to our mom, who would tend my wounds. My dad would yell at him for giving me a bloody nose or a black eye.
Okay, he was an ass back then. A complete fucking jerk but...
Now, thirteen years later, as I watched him preparing to marry this little bitch he picked up in Vegas, I just couldn't come to terms with what he was doing.
"Seriously, you just met this girl. Are you really going to go through with it?"
Despite the fact that he was older, I happened to get the tall gene of the family, so he had to look up at me as he narrowed his eyes. "Don't worry, Jeremy; I'll still be here to kick your ass all over the place." He jabbed me in the arm with a chuckle.
"I'm not worried about that," I said, rubbing the sting from where he hit me. "I'm saying you just met her. You can't know if she's right for you after a fucking week."
"Hells yeah, I can. Have you seen her? Damn, man, she's hot."
"Yeah, I haven't noticed."
"Of course you haven't. You're not looking at chicks."