Our Game {MARTINEZ SIBLINGS 1}

xvi: great position

I nod my head smiling, and the both of us walk downstairs together.

Together...

When we reach the actual party, more than half of the people that were here before are gone.

Logan approaches us with his arm around Aaliyah. "Not that I'm complaining, but where did everyone go?" Blake asks.

"Well you had a high female crowd here, and word got around you were upstairs with Dahls here. Most of 'em left angry, and then a lot of other people followed." He explains.

Shit, this is my fault?

"I'm so sorry Blake." I apologize.

"Sorry?" He begins.

"Yes, now barely anyone's here." I sigh. He smiles down at me.

"I came down here to kick everyone out. I wanted some time with just the friend group." He addresses.

Blake tells the rest of the people that lingered to make their way out. He thanks them but says it's getting late.

Once it's just us 4 in the living room (and Fallon and Elijah in one of the bathrooms upstairs), Aaliyah and Logan say they're going to the store to grab a few things for our sleepover later.

I go to sit on one of the couches. I'm feeling a little dizzy and tired.

Blake follows and sits right next to me. He pulls me so that my head is on his chest. I have to steady myself by placing one of my hands on his chest too.

He presses some button that reclines the sofa we're on, and it scares the shit out of me.

"Great position you've put us in." I joke.

"I know right?" He spits back.

We laugh, simply happy to be near each other. Blake plays with my hair, twisting the curls with his fingers.

"So tell me, what did I miss yesterday while we weren't talking." He starts.

I sigh, remembering how bad of a day yesterday was. "You got lucky, you missed one of my bad days." I chuckle.

"That's not lucky at all. It means I wasn't able to help you. What happened?"

Where do I start? "For starters, I had to ride the bus in the morning which─ Shit. I just exposed myself didn't I?"

"Dahlia Martinez, you lied to me." He claims. "Haven't I already told you I want to help you? Don't even think about getting on the bus again."

"We were on not so good terms, it would've been awkward." I shrug.

"Anyways, Spanish sucked, but I got a 100 on the unit test so that cheered me up I guess. But then I stressed because I felt like my English paper was terrible, but I had to turn it in."

"How in the hell did you manage a 100? I got an 82. And also, I read that paper so many times, you aced it for sure." He comforts.

I trace random patterns with my fingers on his shirt. His words will never fail to make me feel good.

"I appreciate the comforting. Calculus was boring, and I found out I got a dumb 93 on the last test. And P.E always sucks, especially when I have a headache."

"You get headaches a lot huh?" He notices.

I do, but he doesn't need to know why.

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