Chapter 5 4. Counting The Pennies

"Why didn't you ask your girlfriend out somewhere fancy instead of bringing her home and buying some cheap pizza?" Daniel asked moments after Natasha's departure.

"It is none of your business," his little brother muttered.

Daniel let out a loud sigh at that. "I'm just trying to help you here. Why do you always have to be on the defensive?"

"I'm not on the defensive," Carl denied instantly, his eyes spitting fire.

His brother only rolled his eyes at that.

"I'm not," the raven-haired twenty-two-year old denied vehemently yet again.

"Okay, let me rephrase my question," Daniel suggested calmly, "why is the fridge empty and you look like you're counting your pennies?"

Carl clicked his tongue in dismay at that. His brother was so perceptive, it was annoying sometimes.

"Because I am," he let out in a hushed tone, utterly ashamed.

"Because you're what?" Daniel probed.

"Counting my pennies, just like you said," he retorted, sounding exasperated.

"Okay," the older of the Davidson's brothers drawled. "May I know why? It's not like our parents left you with nothing."

"Sure, we have this flat in LA and our villa in California, but they didn't leave much cash," Carl admitted, averting his eyes, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Well, considering we had to pay the school 250.000 dollars in order for you to be accepted, you can understand why they didn't leave much cash..."

Daniel didn't get to finish his sentence for he was interrupted by Carl's outraged question, "We had to pay?"

"Yes," his brother nodded, before calmly adding "we."

"Don't tell me you participated," Carl rearranged his hair nervously, something he did a lot ever since he was a teenager, "you don't expect me to believe that, do you?"

"They were kind of short of money after buying this flat at the time," Daniel informed him casually while sipping on his coffee, "The old man asked for help so I sent fifty grands."

Carl's eyes bulged at that. He couldn't believe his own ears.

"Why would you do that?" He asked, puzzled.

"You do remember I am your brother, right?" Daniel narrowed his eyes at him in mock anger.

Carl shot out of his chair, shaking his head left and right, seemingly incapable of trusting his brother's word.

"Never mind what we had to pay for you to get in the David Geffen School of Medicine," his brother started matter-of-factly, "I believe they still left about seventy-five grands, half of which belong to you. What did you do with the money?"

"I bought a car," was the dismissive response he got.

"You already had one," Daniel deadpanned.

"Well, I wanted a new one," Carl told him in a childish manner.

"A flashier one I believe is the right word."

His little brother clicked his tongue and averted his eyes. How could his brother read him so well?

"And let me guess, you indulged in partying and maybe even did drugs, but you still wouldn't take a job. Not you. Not Carl Davidson." He made sure to put emphasis on the last sentence. He knew his brother's aversion for everything he didn't believe worth his time, and for hard work in general.

"I didn't do drugs," the raven-haired med student denied, turning his now heated stare to his older brother.

"Okay, I believe you there," Daniel conceded, "But I'm correct about the rest, am I not?"

"Yeah," was the sheepish response he got.

"Well, you'll have to find a job," the older of the Davidson's brothers clapped his hands good-humoredly. "The sooner, the better."

"Come again!" Came the indignant reply.

"You heard me right."

"But..."

"No buts, no ifs," Daniel cut in sternly. "I do not plan on selling the villa. Do you understand?"

Carl's jaw all but dropped to the ground. "I have a say in this, you know."

"You do," his brother nodded readily. "For now, we will rent it. And in three years, by the time you finish your studies, I will pay you for your share of the villa."

Carl's shoulders slumped in resignation. "What about the flat?" He then asked.

"We're living in it for the time being."

"Right."

"Find yourself a job," Daniel told him in a no-nonsense tone, "And don't be too picky."

Carl exhaled loudly, utterly and completely defeated. "Okay, I will."