brooks & hale ✔️

brooks

three ;
b r o o k s

"OKAY," CALLA SAID, TWIRLING on the spot with elaborate flourish. "How do I look?"

Brooks glanced away from the bookshelf he was perusing for something interesting to see Calla looking at him expectantly. She was wearing a black miniskirt that zipped up at the front, and a pretty white top with lacy bits that set off the deep brown of her skin. She'd tamed her usual masses of curls by straightening her hair, which had taken at least two hours of getting ready.

"Getting ready" involved Hassan and Brooks lounging about Calla's room while she flitted back and forth, wielding scary looking make up items that didn't look safe to put anywhere near her face. They'd come straight to Calla's after school, and even though she'd had four hours now, she still wasn't ready for the party. She'd changed outfits and hairstyles more times than Brooks could count.

"You look great, Calla," Brooks assured her. "It suits you. Right, Has?"

Hassan glanced up from his phone and scanned Calla with a bored expression. It was a step up from his usual disdainful expression that he surveyed the world with, and Brooks knew you had to appreciate the small things in life when it came to Hassan. "Sure," he agreed, with a bland shrug. "Just like the ten million other or so clothes you've tried on. Also, I think you've put that skirt on backwards."

"Excuse me, smartass." Calla smoothed down the velvety black material indignantly. "This is how you're supposed to wear it. It's all part of the design."

Hassan raised a single eyebrow. "Let me guess, easier access for sex?"

Brooks made a spluttering sound of protest and turned bright red, but Calla just laughed. "I'm not as sex-crazed as you seem to think, Has," she grinned, and reached up on her tiptoes to cover Brooks ears. "And shhh, you can't talk about big boy stuff in front of Brooksie, remember? He's too innocent and naive. We still have to have the birds and the bees talk with him."

"Hey," Brooks protested, swatting her hands away. "I'm not that innocent or naive. And I'm older than Hassan, aren't I?"

Hassan snorted. "Maturity isn't decided by age."

"And you are about as innocent as a seventeen year old teenage male can get," Calla said matter-of-factly, grinning at Brooks when he pulled a face at her. "Just the slightest mention of sex makes you blush, Brooks."

"It does not," Brooks said indignantly. Okay, so he wasn't entirely 100% comfortable discussing such matters openly, but he failed to see how that was a bad thing. "See, you just mentioned sex and I'm fine. Nope, not even remotely red-faced."

"Fucking and cocks and wild passionate buttsex," Hassan said, as calmly as if he was reading off a shopping list. "Oh, and orgies. Lots of them."

"Aha!" Calla exclaimed triumphantly when Brooks own face betrayed him, blood flooding to his cheeks in some kind of strange reflex that had apparently been hardwired into his genes from not knowing how to react. She pinched his cheek and cooed, "little ickle Brooksie is blushing all over again!"

Brooks shoved her hand away. "You're both bullies," he grumbled, rubbing his cheek ruefully. For such a small person, she had a surprisingly strong grip. "Calla, aren't you supposed to be getting ready to impress Hale? The party's starting in half an hour."

It was a pitiful attempt at diverting the subject, but Calla fell for it hook, line and sinker. "Oh, you're right!" She brushed past Brooks with a spritz of perfume, and grabbed a terrifying looking metal contraption that must have been used in medieval times to chop off toes. "Let me just curl my eyelashes, and we can set off."