"Does he… Is he nice to you?" Gael asks me.
I know my brother worries about me a lot, so I tell him the truth. "He can be an asshole, but he's not…that mean to me. I barely see him, actually. He's always going somewhere." That and the fact that I don't really go out of my room much.
We talk about Jino too and it's hard. My brother shows me some pictures that the guards took from yesterday's funeral service and I have to stop myself from crying. I didn't know it would be this painful to lose a friend—someone that I came to love. And every time I think of New York, I remember him. So maybe it's good that I'm not going back there for a while.
My brother, always the protector, reminded me about the things he always tells me: To never let anyone lay a hand on me, to never let anyone touch me without my permission, and that if I ever need them, they'll always be there. And that they'll come to get me if I ask them to.
