When Pierre and I were little children, we used to look for spots to hide, each hiding spot better than the last, the person with the best hiding spot that summer gets something from the person with the worst.

There was a big olive tree in abuela's garden, she believed it was a gift from God because her father met it here and no one knew who planted the tree.

My grandparents had some fruits trees which they planted when they were young, when abuelo used to work for Abuela's father, they were randomly planted in the compound, they were planted everywhere except in the garden. The olive tree was the only one located in the vegetable garden, it had lush leaves and an intertwined stem that looked like nature wove it to create a little scoop.

I once hid in between those woven stem one summer when I was little, Pierre searched for me and couldn't find me because the front view of the tree looked smooth but the back had an open pouch. We both declared that spot the best that summer and since then, whenever Pierre was trying to get away from everyone or when he was mad about something, he hid in the tree.

Although I saw him a while ago putting away the flowers, Pierre was nowhere to be found now and I knew that was where he'd be. I opened the picket fence surrounding the vegetable garden and carefully maneuvered my way through Abuela's vegetables so as not to squash them with my feet.

The olive tree was at the far end of the garden, it looked the same, maybe smaller than the mighty tree I used to see as a child. When Pierre and I used to come here to hide, the pouch at the back of the tree used to fit either of us perfectly, shielding us from the view of anyone who might come into the garden but now I could see Pierre's black boots sticking out from behind the tree.

I walked over to where he sat on the tree's branch, his back barely fitting into the pouch in the tree. He had a scowl on his face as he used sticks to push a fallen olive around on the ground.

I stood looking down at Pierre, he pretended like he didn't see me, his head was bent. I considered standing through this talk but it would be awkward, I guess I could sacrifice by getting my shorts dirty so I sat on the ground.

I didn't know how to begin this conversation, I didn't even know what I wanted to talk about but I knew I needed to talk to him.

"I'm sorry," I said the first thing that came to my mind.

I didn't even know what I was sorry for but I know that I've somehow hurt Pierre and the best thing to do was apologise. He stopped playing with the olive and looked at me, his expression was unreadable and I didn't know what to expect from him when he opened his mouth.

"For what?"

What was I sorry for, Pierre's question made me question myself.

"For... I don't know, Pierre, I just know I've somehow made you angry."

He laughed at what I just said, a short humourless laughter that felt like a scratch on my skin. I didn't even know if I should be annoyed with Pierre, I was trying my best to make up for what I don't even know and here he was laughing.

"Lola, you can't apologise for what you don't know."

"Then tell me what I did to make you mad at me. I can't remember the last time we had a conversation that didn't lead to us fighting." The anger I was trying my best to keep in was starting to show.

"You want to know what you did?" Pierre asked and I looked at him pointedly, then he said, "How am I sure you are even ready to listen to me, for the past three years you kept avoiding the topic."

Pierre stretch his foot out and ran his fingers through his hair and continued, "First you locked yourself away after Leonel's death, he died but I lost two people, you and him. Like that wasn't enough, you made everyone feel like they were walking on eggshells with you and it's not like I'm saying loosing your brother was easy, but the hell, Lola, you didn't even allow me, us to grieve with you, it's like you were being selfish with Leonel's memory."

Pierre picked up the stick he was playing with before and started breaking the stick little by little. He was quiet now and all he said was circling in my head, I was not going to cry, but my chest hurt. Pierre looked back at me and scoffed.

"Leonel was like a brother to me too, he, Shawn and I used to hang out together whenever I wasn't with you, I felt like I lost my brother too. But the worst thing was the feeling of loosing my best friend, it's not like I'm trying to be deep or anything but Lola people practically called us twins, I shared every thing with you, then you left me alone. I don't know what you are apologizing for but if it's this, then only an apology won't cut it."

I was looking down at my hands like I haven't seen it before, that's the only way to control my tears from spilling. I never realized that I drew away from Pierre and now that he said it, I remember how he'd come to talk to me but I'll drive him away with single responses or when he'd try to joke with me but I was in my own world.

I remember how I stoped talking to everyone, I didn't talk to my mom or dad or Pierre, not even my friends in New York, I was always on my own. I never want to go out or be around people, I always wanted to be on my own and let thoughts of Leo consume me.

I felt like seclusion was the best punishment for me for being such a bad sister, I couldn't even blame my parents, they weren't in town but I was home and I couldn't stop Leo from taking those pills which took his life.

I needed to say something and stop staring at my fingers like a fool but nothing was coming out of my mouth. But I tried again.

"Pierre... I... Um." Gibberish was all I could manage.

"Do you know why I first started fighting with you?" Pierre asked relieving me from the burden of thinking of what to say.

I shook my head and he said, "I thought it would be like when we were little and we'll fight and make up but when I said anything, you'll look at me with hurt or you'll cry or someone would scold me, then I stopped trying to fight you for you to notice me, I started fighting you out of anger."

I felt like buckets after bucket of ice water was being poured on me with each words Pierre said, I looked at him and saw the outline of a faint wisp of hair on his upper lip.

The last I remember, Pierre was fourteen and gangly but now he had a moustache growing and his shoulders were broader he sounded grown and I realized that I didn't know when we both grew, I don't even know if he still has the same interests or if he has a girlfriend or if he remembers the handshake we'd made as children. I lost my friend because I hid away.

"I didn't realize I was hurting anyone, Pierre, loosing my brother made me hate myself, I didn't know I was running away from everyone or making everyone tread carefully with me," I said.

I didn't know where I was going with my speech but if Pierre was still my twin like he used to be, he'd understand what I was trying to say despite me not understanding myself.

"Lola, Shawn joined a football team after Leo died, My parents were always in our space for the first few months after his death, Niki also did the same thing, we all felt his death. I'll admit I can't say I know how you felt but we all hurt, Abuela lost her grandson too and everyone of us lost someone who meant so much to us, we all miss him."

Thinking through the past three years, I just noticed that no one ever mentioned anything about Leo since they noticed my behavior whenever anything about him was said. I'm so stupid, I was in my own world for years and I didn't even allow everyone to be happy because I wasn't.

"I don't even know what to say... I'm sorry for pushing you out and for everything else."

I now understood what I was apologising for and why I needed to apologise and I know only an apology wasn't enough, I needed to stop making the whole family watch everything they said or how they behaved around me.

Pierre looked at me, the stick was in small bits on the ground and he dusted his palm. It was noon already and I'm sure in the next couple of hours Abuela would turn on her old music box and blast traditional songs while everyone chatted, lunch would extend till evening before everyone would go about their separate task which involved hanging around in groups.

I didn't realize Pierre was already standing till he stretched his hand towards me to help me up, maybe this was an olive branch, no pun intended.

I stretched my arm to grab his hand and he pulled his back, I was scared that maybe he didn't want to help me again but when I looked up at him and saw the mischief in his blue eyes, a smile played on my lips and he smiled back bringing back his hand which I grabbed quickly and we both laughed.

He formed his hand into a fist like he wanted to fist bump and I realized he was insinuating we did our special handshake that we formed as a child, I was really surprised he remembered but I gladly joined him and I felt light, like a weight was removed from my shoulders.

"Last one to the house is a rotten tomato, be careful not to squash abuela's vegetables!" Pierre said, the last part he said as he wheezed past me.

I started running too, the breeze toyed with my curls which I left down, I was happy and it wasn't Edward making me happy, I was happy because I allowed myself to be and that only made me happier.

The End.

Just kidding.

Okay, I don't know how to feel about this chapter, it was one of the hardest to write. For a while others have followed better but I kept writing and rewriting the conversations in this chapter and I still don't even feel like it's perfect the way it should be, but something told me to leave it as it is(at least for now).

Besides, the last paragraph made me smile, cousin friendships are so nice. I love how Lola and Pierre's friendship was before everything and how they mended after years, I don't even know what I'm writing again, lol.

So how y'all doing?

Do you have cousins and are you friends with them?

I was close to one of my cousin when we were little but I haven't seen him in years. But anywho.

What are your thoughts about this chapter?

This authors note is long, I just felt like talking, hoping someone talks back. Remember to V, C and Share.

Thanks for reading.
NmX.