I'm pretty sure that I just shit myself. Seeing my older brother narrowing his eyes at me with his arms crossed over his broad chest was so far the worst thing that I could see tonight. Yes. Yes, I definitely shit myself.

Mitch's tall stature started over with fists at his sides. It didn't help that my brother played football at his school so he had to maintain his bulky build. It just made him scary when he was mad about something.

The panic inside me was rising like a volcano. My legs were sweaty and sticking to the material of the booth seat, and the closer Mitch approached, the further I sunk down in my seat. Making a squishy, squeaky noise along the way because of the sweat. Ew.

I glanced at Orson whose eyes were wider than saucers.

Though I was panicking for my sake of being out of the shop without permission, a part of me was wondering if Orson was panicking too. You know, because of the whole cheating thing. But it's not like Mitch knew I had a boyfriend, to begin with. Like dad, Mitch was kept out of the loop. Only because---at the time--- I had feared for my boyfriend's life and Orson was so pretty to look at. But now that we weren't together anymore, I was wondering if maybe Orson thinks I told my brother about the whole cheating fiasco who would gladly take care of him for me. After I got yelled at, of course.

But that was not really a priority to think about. Especially when Mitch was now on the other side of the table and glaring at me from where I was peering up over the edge.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked again, hearing the bite in his tone.

I glanced to the side where Ryan looked at me a second then looked back to my brother. Clearing my throat, I started to struggle with sitting up. Stupid sweaty palms.

Once upright, I bit my lip as I was thinking over a rather believable excuse to why I was out with "friends" and not at the taco shop.

My brother knows my schedule. He is aware that dad has me working to the bone and have little free time unless I'm at school or something. Which is why Mitch normally takes it easy on me whenever he comes home to visit. Mitch is the one who volunteers to work extra shifts---despite dad saying he didn't have to---so that I could have some free time.

Mitch's brows rose, arms crossing over his large chest again. His head tilted to the side a bit as he blinked hard. That was his 'I'm waiting' look. It was the same one that could control the bean-heads whenever he was in charge of watching them. I remember how quickly my little brothers and sister dropped their tantrums without even being said a word to.

Gulping, I was scrambling in my head of an excuse to get me out of this situation. Which was unlikely. Because this was Mitch. And he was always able to see through my lies better than our parents. Knowing this, and yet still trying to act innocent like I was in a place that wasn't the taco shop, I couldn't help it when I just beamed widely.

Mitch's look didn't waver. Something I should have known.

My brother raised a brow before warning, "Gemma... You have thirty seconds to explain yourself before I ring up Dad."

My heart totally just fell out of my butt. If my brother told my Dad where I was, I was done for. Kaput. Dead. Little cut up pieces of meat that Dad would mix into the Grade A meat he purchases for the store.

Panicking, I shook my head to beg him not to call Dad. That they didn't know I was here.

"I kind of figured that, Gemma, when I first spotted you."

Point taken.

Mitch's brows rose again, craning his neck forward. "Soooo?"

I rolled my eyes, sighing before I groaned, "Please don't tell Mom and Dad, Mitch! I just wanted to hang out with my friends at a beach party for a little while. Edmund and Margarite were going to drop me back off at the shop, I swear!" 

My brother questioned whether the shop was secured and I fought hard to not roll my eyes. I nodded, assuring my brother that I locked up the shop and there was nothing to worry about. I winced, shrugging a shoulder and weakly added that I may have taken advantage of Mom taking Dad to the hospital when he burned and cut himself in the kitchen. Despite Kim's impromptu, "Ew." I kept my attention on my brother. 

Mitch raised a brow, letting out a slow breath through his nose. His jaw clenched, watching me and the longer he did without saying anything, the more I was squirming. It was when Mitch shook his head, ready to pull out his phone to inform our parents of where I was, that I frowned at him. My big brother claimed to look out for me but I shouldn't ever forget that I'm the black sheep of the family. Even to Mitch.

"There's damn curfew in our town, Gemma, and you know that!" Mitch said, not looking up from his phone as he was scrolling through it. "We have a responsibility to keep watch on the shop and here you are, acting like you are---"

"We?" I interrupted, brows furrowed. My face feeling hot. 

"Ohhhh, shit..." Orson muttered under his breath. Both Kim and Ryan glanced his way while I stared at my brother who frowned at me. 

I sat up, asking my brother how we were responsible. I asked him how he was acting like we would be the ones getting into trouble. Narrowing my eyes, I told Mitch that, of course, he got to act all high and mighty with me because he could do no wrong. My brother narrowed his eyes, giving a warning by saying my name.

I shook my head, nudging Ryan out of the way who stood up to let me out of the booth. He sat down while I squared off with my brother. Gritting my teeth, I told my brother that he had no idea how it felt to be me. How it felt to be stuck at the diner all day until closing where I was bored out of my mind because of the lack of customers. Mitch didn't understand that I didn't have a voice in our household when it came to anything---not just the shop. 

"But you wouldn't know that, would you?" I prompted. "You wouldn't know a damn thing---" Mitch's brow rose, eyes widening a little. "About how I am the outsider in our family! I'm the one who has to put up with Rose's prissy ways because she's Little Miss Perfect can do no wrong either! Everything she says and does is like God damn sugar cubes to Mom and Dad, while the Bean Heads can cause havoc in the house---and the shop!---and I'm the one who gets blamed for it! I'm the one who has to put up with being ignored! Being invisible!"

My eyes were watering, my chin and lip trembling. I told my brother how he was always the one I looked to because he would take extra shifts for me whenever in town, that I thought he cared about me more than our family did. "But it's not true! You are just like them!" I glared, sniffling as I wiped my cheek. "The perfect prodigal son! The one who can do no wrong! And this just proves it!" 

I gestured to his phone in his hand. "You are such a jerk, Mitch! You leave to go off and play the Golden Boy at college where you don't have to worry about getting up at three in the morning to get ready for work in the middle of town! Having to take a bus because Dad wants me at the shop so early! He never asks Rose to do that, you know?" 

Raising my brows, craning my neck forward, I asked my brother if he ever had to that when he was my age? When he just stared at me, I knew my answer. Sniffling, I told Mitch that I felt suffocated in our family, and that, yes, I did sneak out tonight but it was because it was the only time that I got to be a normal teenager! That I wanted just one night---one night!---to not be stuck in the shop.

"They ignore me, Mitch! They say they care about me but really, how does ignoring me half the time or controlling my every move unless I'm sitting at the shop, actually caring if it doesn't benefit them?" I shook my head, glancing to the side where some of the patrons and staff was overhearing my dramatics. I didn't care though. I was mad that my brother immediately treated me just as our parents did, how everyone in our family did. 

Facing Mitch, I nodded at the phone, scowling as I challenged him to make the phone call. "Go on! Call Mom and Dad! Tell them where I am! And then they can praise you like they always do because that's what always happens! Because I don't matter!" 

I huffed, shaking my head and walked away, storming out of the diner after shoving through the nosy patrons---not that I blame them since I was yelling at my brother. I was breathing pretty hard, my fists at my sides and my new shoes scraping the asphalt as I rounded the corner to hide away from the windows. Sitting on the curb with a heavy thud, I hugged my knees, resting my chin on top. 

Maybe I was being a little dramatic back there... but it was the truth. Mitch could never do any wrong, and neither could Rose or the Bean Heads. I was the only one who was a total screw up. I wanted to be heard sometimes, was that all too much to ask for? 

I wanted to not have to spend every waking moment at the taco shop, and to go hang out with my friends, and even have my siblings actually want to spend time with me. Feeling like the black sheep of the family was awful, and I always thought out of both my parents, my mom should have been the one to defend me. To stand up for me when my dad stood up for everyone else. 

Did my dad hate me? Well, maybe not hate me, but he didn't care about me as much as the rest of my siblings. Why was I the odd one out? 

Sniffling, I cried a bit more, as I heard someone approach. I didn't look at them--not caring if it was a police officer at this point--even when they sat down beside me. Their shoes scraped against the asphalt as they bent their knees, resting their arms there. I immediately knew it was Mitch.

I frowned, not wanting to talk to him. I was mad at him. He was supposed to be my big brother, the one who saw when I was being treated unfairly and instead, he was wearing blinders like everyone else. 

Mitch sighed, and I felt him looking at me. I frowned more, turning my head away from him. 

"You matter..." he said, though I didn't say anything back. My brother was quiet other than a short sigh. "You do matter, Gemma. You have always mattered." 

I rolled my eyes, sniffling and hugged my knees more. 

"Mom and Dad... They love you just as much as the rest of us, you know? They might not show it like you want them to, but they do." He paused, obviously hearing how it sounded because he tried again. "They do love you, Gemma."

"Just not enough as you, Rose, and the Bean Heads..." I grumbled, still faced away. 

"That's not true..." He said, and I turned to scowl at him. Mitch raised a brow, lowering the other and sighed as he turned to stare straight ahead. "Okay... Maybe they show it a little differently with the rest of us but if they didn't love you, they wouldn't keep you under their roof, they wouldn't feed you, clothe you, and---"

"Everything that is required by law for a minor? Gee, thanks, Mitch. Great talk." I stared ahead, shaking my head. "What are you even doing out here anyway? Keeping watch over me while we wait for Mom and Dad?"

My brother was quiet, shifting to stretch out his long legs and lean back on his hands behind him now. "I didn't call them." 

I glanced his way and Mitch squinted out at the parking lot. "Why... why not?" I asked, eyeing him.

Mitch sighed, brows furrowed as he stared at his shoes. My brother shrugged a shoulder, sharing that what I said to him---and how I said it---hurt him. That my not being able to count on him when no one else in our family could be counted on was unacceptable. Mitch said I was his favorite sibling, always had been since I was born because I took such a liking to my brother right away. 

The corner of his lip curled up, shaking his head. "You've always been the one to stand out, Gemma. You did things as a kid that Rose and I never did because we were fixed on being what Mom and Dad always expected of us." Mitch sighed again, raising a brow when he looked at me. "But you...? You were the one that colored outside the lines because it made a prettier picture. You were the one who made her own path ever since she could talk, walk, run..."

I frowned, not sure how that should make me feel any better about being "the odd one out". 

Mitch explained to me that growing up with Mom and Dad meant that he was always walking the straight line. And because he did, Rose had to do the same. "Rose and I were just better at being followers than leaders, Gemma. But you?" My brother grinned a bit. He looked me over, smiling a bit more. "You paved the way for our younger brothers and sister. You gave them the opportunity to be who they want to be, even if it may seem like that's only the case because of how many of them there are."

Mitch leaned his head on his shoulder, watching me. "If there's anyone to look up to, Gemma, it's you. That's why I am so comfortable at the university now. Because I dare to step off the straight line Mom and Dad set for me, every now and then. It's not like you are a bad kid, little sister, because you're not. You're different, but in a good way."

My brother offered a small grin, saying that if there was anyone he wanted to be like, it as me. That he'd love to be like me for a day who still was on that straight line but walked, jumped, twirled, and sashayed along it. Mitch's brows furrowed, shaking his head that he wished I would have told him about how I was feeling, how home life was for me.

I shrugged, looking straight ahead. "What difference would it have made? You can't save me all the way from the University."

"But I can save you," Mitch corrected. "That's my job as your big brother, Gemma. I want to look out for you when you need it most... even when you don't think you do. Because I know you like to do things on your own---figure your own way out---but you have to remember something, Gemma." 

Turning to look at him, I raised a brow, waiting. My brother leaned a little closer, mirroring the raised brow. "You're still family. And whether you think so or not, I am always going to be there for you." Mitch sat up, pursing his mouth to the side and muttered that he just needed a good kick in the ass as a reminder, sometimes. He glanced at me and I rolled my eyes, grinning a bit.

Mitch asked if I hated him, and my head snapped his way. I frowned, scrunching my nose that he was a total egghead if he thought that. Mitch laughed, shrugging that he was just checking because of he made me cry---something he hated, he noted---and all he saw was Baby Me reaching out to him because I needed him, and I didn't know how else to ask for help. 

"Our parents are old fashioned sometimes," Mitch pointed out. "Not that that's an excuse to ignore you or make you feel invisible. But maybe I should shed some light to our parents that they have seven kids, not six. I'm sure they'd feel awful, Gemma, if they knew how you felt all this time."

I frowned, shaking my head. "That's just going to make things worse, Mitch. Mom and Dad are so complicated. What they say is law and whenever I try to say something to them, they get distracted because of the younger ones or because Rose has something to show off about." 

Mitch rolled his eyes. "Rose is a piece of work. She's a pain in my ass, too." 

I grinned, something I could agree on with my brother. 

My brother nudged me with his shoulder. I looked at him and he jutted out his bottom lip when he asked if I could forgive him for leaving me behind as he did. I sighed, closing my eyes, telling Mitch that it wasn't his fault and that I shouldn't have said what I said---making him feel guilty about going off to school to better himself. 

Shrugging a shoulder, I said, "I was just venting. And you were caught in the cross-fire because I saw you reaching for your phone, already siding with Mom and Dad." My face softened, giving my brother a small smile. "I'm sorry for what I said to you. Your my big brother and I still love you."

Mitch smirked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder to tug me closer. I rested my head against his. He promised to help me sort things out, that it was better late than never that I get to live life like a normal teenager. He wanted to talk to Mom and Dad, letting them know that things needed to change in our household if I felt like I could only go to Mitch who would be the only one in my corner against Mom and Dad; more specifically Dad since Mom always chose Dad's corner. Mitch also said he'd make an effort to come home more often to show our parents that they were failing with me, and they needed to do better. 

"Thanks, Mitch," I smiled, tearing up. I swallowed hard, sighing that I hadn't felt this relieved since his last visit. 

My brother didn't look happy about that, holding me closer then kissed the side of my head. "Don't worry, Gemma. Things are going to be different... for the better, I promise."

I believed him. I wanted things with my parents to be better. To be able to have an actual connection to Mom and Dad without forcing it. Even if it took Mitch's help, I'd take it since my brother was right, that I didn't have to do this all on my own. 

As we sat there for a bit longer, letting my crying subside, Mitch kept me against him. His head still against mine. It wasn't until I felt better and we stayed quiet that Mitch broke the silence.

"Gemma...?"

"Yeah?" 

"Why do you have the price tags still on your shoes?"

I just laughed.