Tom's stepbrother

After my parents' divorce, I stayed with my mother. My relationship with my father unexpectedly became even better than before: he called, helped me with money, and tried to be a part of my life, despite the distance.

A few years later, my mother remarried. Her new husband was a wealthy businessman, and with him came his son, Tom, into our lives. I'm 16, he'll be 20.

Tom was rarely home. He was always busy with things to do, friends to make, trips to take. But when we did run into each other, a strange connection developed between us. He could talk to me for long periods of time, joke around, and compliment me. Many people warned me that he used to go through girlfriends one after another and didn't take relationships seriously.

"People love to talk about the past," he once said. "But now I need a completely different life."

I wanted to believe him.

One evening, Mom asked me to invite Tom to dinner. I went up to the second floor and approached his room. Without thinking, I simply opened the door.

Tom had just gotten out of the shower and was lying on his bed, naked, bare-chested, resting after a hard day. Hearing the sound of the door opening, he stood up abruptly.

Tom pulled the towel up sharply and looked at me angrily.

— Fuck, didn't anyone even teach you to knock? Why the hell are you barging in without asking?

I stood at the door, confused.

• I just...

— Just what? Get out of here. Right now. And next time, knock first, then come in.

• Sorry...

— Just get out already, damn it. Or even more harshly:

— Fuck, seriously? Didn't they teach you to knock?

Tom jumped out of bed and looked at me irritably.

— Why the hell did you even come here? Is the door there for show?

— I just wanted...

— I don’t care what you wanted. Leave the room. Right now.

I muttered a quiet apology and closed the door.

Behind me I heard:

— Incredible. Is it possible to leave a person alone for once?