You were seven when you were adopted.

Everyone kept telling you how lucky you were.

You didn't really understand.

You just knew you had a big brother now.

His name was Martin.

He was seventeen.

You thought he was the coolest person you'd ever seen.

...

The front door opened after school.

"I'm home."

You ran over, nearly tripping on your own socks.

"Martin!"

You held up a crayon drawing with both hands.

"Look! I made us!"

Martin glanced at it for barely a second while taking off his shoes.

"I'm tired."

He walked upstairs.

Your smile slowly disappeared.

"...Okay."

...

A few days later...

You sat outside his bedroom holding two toy dinosaurs.

"Martin?"

"What?"

"Wanna play?"

"No."

"Just five minutes?"

"I'm busy."

"...Okay."

You stayed outside his door for a little while anyway.

Maybe he'd change his mind.

He never did.

...

One Saturday afternoon...

Martin was watching TV.

You quietly climbed onto the other end of the couch.

"...Can I sit here?"

"Sure."

You smiled.

After a minute...

You scooted a little closer.

Then a little more.

Finally...

You leaned your head against his arm.

Martin sighed.

"Can you not?"

You sat up immediately.

"...Sorry."

...

Your parents noticed everything.

"He's trying so hard," Mom said one evening.

"I know."

"Then why do you keep pushing him away?"

Martin looked down.

"I didn't ask for a little brother."

You were standing in the hallway.

You heard every word.

Without making a sound...

You turned around and walked back to your room. ...

Family Day arrived at school.

Everyone had someone.

Parents.

Brothers.

Sisters.

When your teacher smiled and asked,

"Is your family coming?"

You looked toward the classroom door.

Nobody was there.

You smiled anyway.

"My big brother's probably busy."

...