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The sting of Declan's words stopped getting to Ronan the moment he learned he could turn most lectures into a fistfight. As he waited for Gansey to finish soothing Declan in the parking lot, now that Ronan was safely inside the Pig, Ronan looked off at the mountains framing Henrietta's skyline. He reminisced on days of hitting the ground running between trees or coming back home covered in grass stains.
Declan and Ronan were scrappy children. Even Declan's early onset appreciation of tidy, refined things didn't negate the fact that he was the son of a farmer who was son to a farmer. They raced up trees and they pushed each other into cow shit and they wrestled in the grass.
Ronan remembers the morning when things changed.
"You look... proper." Declan had said, sitting to Niall's right.
Niall made no move, but just the fact that he looked amused made Ronan's heart shrivel.
"I don't like it. The shirt's so stupid and tight and the socks are fuckin' unbearable."
"Watch your godforsaken mouth, bud." Niall said. He didn't look up this time, instead flipping a page in his newspaper. Ronan kept standing and stared at his socks.
When Aurora walked into the kitchen, turning the radio on in a single motion so smooth it didn't break her stride, she leaned down and hugged Ronan from the back.
"Oh honey! You look beautiful. Do you want me to do something with your hair?"
Ronan turned to face her, not because he felt the desire to see her right now, but because it was instinct. She held on and waited for him to speak.
As her warmth and scent surrounded him with her head on his shoulder, Ronan said, "No... Dad always has his hair like this. I could tie it up myself if I wanted to."
Aurora considered this. Ronan felt like the earth would crumble and suck him up if he saw anyone look at him right now. People always said he looked like the spitting image of his father, wondering where Aurora's genes went, but he distinctly knew he was different from Niall now. He also knew that Aurora felt something was wrong, but he could save himself from Niall and Declan's scrutiny.
So Ronan got a plate and he sat opposite Declan, like always. Aurora joked about Niall not having to read the newspaper because the radio is on and eating instead, Niall talked about how a man complimented the new shiny charcoal BMW he bought. All was well.
It rained after Ronan's first day of middle school. The teachers welcomed everyone and they said a prayer at the start of the first class and Ronan died of boredom. It felt like church when father Larry filled in and the girls were chatting loudly behind him while sat at his desk during break. All he wanted to do was play with his brother in the mud.
"Declan, shithead, it already stopped raining!"
"Oh. Yeah, I guess", Declan said. There was a bunch of papers on the kitchen table, and Niall's newspaper from this morning was still open.
Ronan ran to the hallway. He was jumping into one of his barn boots as he came back to the kitchen.
"Let's go, the mud's gonna dry up! I think we can get a slide going if we go right now!"
Declan didn't look up. He said, "Take Matthew."
"Matthew's four!" Ronan felt betrayed. Crushed.
"And I'm busy!"
Declan picked up his papers. He didn't do work at the kitchen table again.
The third week of catholic middle school, Ronan came home angrier than he ever felt before. His hair no longer made him feel like his dad and instead like every girl he went to class with.
It was raining, again, and the walk from where Niall parked after picking him up from class left him soaked and bitter. He carried his muddy shoes up the stairs and found Declan in their dad's office, it felt sacrilegious to but he started yelling.
"You've been ignoring me for weeks! You're being a real asshole and you're not better than me!"
"I'm your brother, not your best friend." Declan replied.
Ronan felt like he could be both.
"Asshole", he repeated.
"Why can't you just be friends with the girls you go to school with? Leave me alone. You're my sister, and you're at the age where you should start acting like a g-"
Ronan lunged at him.
The first time Ronan actually punched Declan, he was eleven years old. Now 17, he considers the intent that went into that right hook as the sound of a muddy ballet flat hitting the floor turns into the Camaro's revving engine.