{SPIN-OFF TO LET'S PRETEND}
{CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE}
"Are you joking? That's absurd - that is, that's straight ludicrous! "
─────☆*: .｡..｡.:*☆IN WHICH
Atalie Anderson is a cynic for love.
She absolutely hates all the puppy-
love shit. She ju...
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────── L U D I C R O U S [ chapter 23 • family bets ] ──────
MY HANDS GRIP the steering wheel tightly as I pull into my driveway, the gravel of the driveway crunching beneath my tires. I park my car, stepping out into the warm night air. It was warmer than usual, which shouldn't have been surprising since the fall weather this year decided to be a bipolar bitch. But as the month of October comes to a close it has been increasingly colder.
But not tonight.
The air is heavy and sticky and almost too warm for my sort of comfort this time of year. It felt suffocating.
"Don't do anything stupid," My grandmother voices, her foreign accent lacing her words. My eyes flicker over to her vibrant green irises, before opening the back door to my car and grabbing some bags.
"I'm not going to do anything," I utter, only to receive a quirked brow in my direction. She didn't believe me and neither did I. Once I set my mind to something there was no changing it back. "I'm going to have a nice peaceful chat with my little brother." I add, shutting the door with my hip.
"Peaceful? Huh." I nod my head at my grandmother, following closely behind her as she walks up the stone steps to my front door. "Pretty sure you won't start a riot in there? Or maybe World War 3?"
"Only if Hunter dearest corporates," I say just as she unlocks the house door, stepping to the side so I can walk in. The Anderson household is warm, inviting and filled with ruckus. Children yelling and laughing catch my attention as my Uncle Colton chases after them with a fake bloody knife and with a Michael Myers mask on.
"Oh shit!" Leon yells as he rounds the corner and heads into the living room. I hold back a laugh as I glance over to my grandmother who looks like she's seen a ghost.
"Did he just?" She doesn't wait for a response before going after the child, her Spanish yells swirling into the laughter bouncing off the walls in my house. I chuckle lowly heading to the kitchen where my mother and her parents sat in talking.
"Hi," I smile at them, placing a kiss to either of their heads before turning to look at my mother. "Everything's here, that'll be twenty bucks." I grin at her, placing the bags down and holding out a hand.
"I'm cooking for you, that's way more than enough." My mother flashes me a smile, beginning to grab some of the products from the bags with the help from her father.
"Where's your son?" I question, looking at my mother while leaning against the cold marble counter.
"He just got home, went into his room." My grandmother answers for her. Her usual grey dull eyes where filled with so much life and happiness since my mother decided to take her out of the hospital.
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