Page 5 of Trial and Error

I roll my eyes and look back out to the dance floor to find that the mystery woman has now gone. “I wasn’t being creepy,” I grumble, looking around the room for any sign of her.

Oscar clears his throat from where he sits, looking down at his phone with a frown. “Isobel can’t get Olivia to settle. I’m going to have to go home.”

Just as he starts to stand, Avery’s hand shoots out and pulls at him back to sitting. “You’re wasted,” she says, “Isobel doesn’t need to look after two babies tonight.”

My brother glares at her and pulls his arm back, nearly smacking himself in the face in the process. “I’m fine. I’ll just call an Uber.”

Avery looks over at me, her green eyes wide with exasperation. “Will you tell your brother to stop being a loser and that he’s not allowed to leave.”

Oh, here we go.

“No. Elias, will you tell your cousin that I’m a grown man who doesn’t need some bratty teenager telling me what to do.”

Avery whips her head around to face him, her dark auburn hair brushing over my shoulder. “I’m twenty-two, dumbass.”

“I’m twenty-two, dumbass,” he mocks. “Start acting like it then.”

In my peripheral, I see her hand clench against her thigh. “Avery, breathe, girl.” She glares at me. “Oscar, she’s right. You’re far too drunk to go home right now, and you’re only going to make Isobel’s life harder. You’re going to come back to my place and sleep it off and I’ll take you home in the morning.”

He huffs. “I don’t want to stay at your place, I want⁠—”

“That’s your only option, bud,” I tell him as I stand.

After a few minute of sulking, he begrudgingly gets up from the seat and stands beside me. We’re close in height, but I have a few inches on him, which pisses him off more than it should. I get my six-foot-one frame from my mom’s brother, whereas Oscar gets his barely hits six-foot height from our father.

“Just know I’m pissed at you for not letting me go home,” Oscar tells me once he regains his balance. “But thank you for being a responsible asshole.”

“Did you need a ride home, Ave?” I ask.

She loops her arm through her purse and nods. “Please.”

Zac is still nowhere to be seen, and I imagine it’ll be a while before he makes an appearance. “Make sure you tell Zac you’ve left so he doesn’t worry,” I tell her.

Avery nods, her fingers typing rapidly against her phone screen. “All done.”

Oscar grabs my arm and pulls me toward the exit. “C’mon, old man. The faster we get back to your place and sleeping, the sooner I get to see my girls.”

By the time we get back to my apartment, it’s one in the morning. Avery decided to come with us for a bit to make sure Oscar was okay, and once he was asleep, I drove her back to her apartment in the West End. According to her, Zac was spending the night in Yaletown with his new friend.

I know it’s early from the way the birds are chirping softly outside my bedroom window, but I leave my eyes closed to allow myself a few more moments of peace before my brother comes in and demands to be taken home. He’s been moving around in the living room for the last twenty minutes or so, and I know he’s probably giving me a chance to get more sleep, but from his fast-paced movements, I can tell he’s eager to get home.

Just as I figured, my door opens less than a minute later, and he’s gently shaking my shoulder. I peel my eyes open to see him hovering over me. A tired sigh passes through my lips as he looks at me sheepishly, his dark brown hair sticking up in different angles.

“Morning,” I mumble groggily. “How’d you sleep?”

He shrugs and watches as I hoist myself out of bed and over to my dresser.

“As good as you can on a couch,” he comments. “You need to get a new one, the springs were digging in my back all night.”

I scoff as I pull out a T-shirt from the top draw. “Maybe I’ll just let you sleep on that nice little bench across the street. You might have to share it with it’s usual resident, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Oscar rolls his eyes and nudges his shoulder with my own. “I’m only joking.”

I make a quick effort to get dressed and usher him out of my room. He sits on the couch as I slip my feet into a pair of Converse and my arms into the brown sweatshirt I left hanging on the coat rack. He’s already got his shoes on and is raring to go as his knees bounce up and down, watching as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and my car keys from the console table in the hall.

Having an interior designer as a cousin definitely has its perks. When I moved in, Avery was more than happy to help me decorate the moderately-sized apartment. The hallway walls are painted a cream colour that contrast nicely against the black door and dark wood flooring. The furniture is mostly industrial with some greenery and the odd trinket here and there on top. Avery insisted I get a floor-length mirror to put at the end of the hall, and as much as I wanted to hate how it looks, I couldn’t lie and say I don’t love how it pulls the space together.

“C’mon, Grandpa, let’s go,” I call to my brother as I unlock the front door. I wait as he jogs through the door before I follow.