Second Chance

When my folks shipped me off overseas, it was during the big freshman basketball tourney. My own sister and, get this, my fiancée, were there cheering on this kid, Jake Miller. That was supposed to be my moment, you know? And the signed jersey he was sporting, that was supposed to be my freakin’ 14th birthday gift.

I spent a lifetime competing with Jake, and no matter what, if he just put on the waterworks, my parents would always rush to his defense, making me the bad guy. But I was their actual son! It wasn’t until I was dying alone and forgotten overseas that it finally hit me. If I got a do-over, I’d never again fight Jake for their warped, already-biased affection.

1.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was 13 again. It was the day Jake became officially part of our family. Jake was my uncle’s only kid. My aunt and uncle had died in a car crash while taking him for a day out. Jake survived, but he was frail after the accident. My dad and his brother were tight, so, worried about Jake ending up in foster care, they took him in, making him their own.

Jake was sitting by Mom, his voice full of hopeful excitement. "So, I really have a mom and dad now? Nobody's gonna call me a stray anymore, right?"

Mom patted his shoulder with a soft look. “That’s right, honey. We’re your parents now, and this is your home.”

I stood on the staircase, watching the scene below with cold eyes. Dad finally spotted me. He frowned, a guarded look on his face, like he already assumed I was going to give Jake a hard time.

"What are you doing up there? Do I need to ask you to come down?"

“Jake's your little brother now, he’s delicate and’s been through a lot. You need to cut him some slack and don’t let me catch you picking on him.”

I heard those words just like I did last time, and my stomach sank. Jake’s frail, so as the older brother I need to give him special treatment. I heard it a million times in my last life.

I was the golden child before Mom and Dad adopted Jake, but afterward, they were all about him. Because he had a sob story, and he was always sick, I had to bend over backward to accommodate him. In the end, whatever love I had left was gone, given to Jake. But I was only older than Jake by two weeks! And besides, he was my cousin. Why was it that he had a right to whatever he wanted just because he was pathetic?

I remember last time, after Jake set me up, my folks didn't even listen to my side of the story, they were too busy coddling him. Then, after listening to his sob stories, they shipped me overseas, saying they just couldn’t look at me anymore. They even had the nerve to say they'd been more than fair and that they didn't want a son as rotten as me.

Maybe I spaced out a bit, lost in those memories, because I didn't answer my Dad, Mom started scolding me too. "Danny, be reasonable. Don't pick on Jake anymore."

Jake’s eyes flickered with a hint of smugness. Seeing I wasn't going to speak, he added more fuel to the fire.

"I won’t go into you...