Gamer Girl Problems

Level 9 ✧ The Brother

Level 9

The Brother

Brayden was the first to regain his composure. "Well, if it isn't Blondie the Arrogant Battle Ground Nerd," he said, mockingly.

I felt my cheeks redden. "Who are you calling arrogant, Braid On the Sexist Pig?" I retorted, hotly. I glared at him.

Through the corner of my eyes, I could see Esmond looking confusingly between us. "Wait, you guys know each other?"

"Unfortunately," Brayden and I said, at the same time. We clamped our mouths shut and glowered at each other.

"Oh, well that's uh, awkward." Esmond laughed anxiously. "I guess an introduction won't be needed then."

"Are you guys dating?" Brayden asked, when he noticed Es's hand on my wrist. Immediately, Esmond dropped it and blushed.

He actually blushed.

Or wait. Maybe I'm reading too much. Definitely reading in too much.

"No!" he exclaimed. "I was just gonna introduce her to you."

"Uh-huh, sure you were," Brayden said, sarcastically.

I looked down at my empty hand. I could still feel Esmond's hand on it.

"Hey, are we still up for pizza?" The black-haired boy beside Brayden asked.

"Yeah. Esmond, do you mind driving us over to that Pizza Hut a few blocks from here?"

Esmond glared at his brother. "And you just couldn't walk there? Have videogames really caused you to be this lazy?"

"Apparently so," I coughed out, smirking at Brayden.

Brayden turned red. Now that I was standing only a few inches from him, I could tell that he had a light splash of freckles across his face. His hair also seemed darker than the last time I had seen him. He was at least three inches taller than me, from what I could tell.

"Shut up, whatever-the-hell-your-name-is," he growled.

I blinked innocently at him. "I have a name, too, you know."

"Let me guess, Miss 'I-Need-Anger-Management'?" he said, mimicking what I had said to him a few days back.

I glared at him. "No."

Esmond sighed. "And to think you guys would be fast friends. I guess I was wrong."

"Yeah well, I guess you thought wrong," I said, shrugging.

"Esmond, can we please get back to the topic at hand?" Brayden snapped. "We"—he gestured to his friends and him—"need a ride to Pizza Hut!"

"And you can walk there yourselves! Fifteen minutes of walking will not kill you." Esmond snapped back. He looked exasperated.

"You're being an ass, Esmond."

"And you're being a whiny, spoiled brat. Walk there yourself. Come on, Bridget. Let's go." Esmond put his hands on my shoulders and spun me around, walking me towards his...

Wait, car?

Holy crap, what is Esmond doing? Why is he dragging me along?

"Where are we going?" I squeaked, when we approached his car. It was a sea foam green colored Prius.

"Pizza Hut," he said, with a smug smile.

"I thought you said that—" I pointed over to where his brother was, but Esmond shook his head.