Better Than Milkshakes, Better Than Boys (girlxgirl)

[38]

I smile at my brother and ruffle his messy bed hair further, resulting in a disapproving grunt slipping past his lips. "Stop that! I am older, you know."

"But yet you're so easy to tease." I grin, sliding some plates towards him stacked with buttered bagels.

Despite spending nearly four months apart, my brother and I jostled and joked like we'd never been separated. There wasn't a moment without bickering or laughing between us, and we worked well together like we have always done. We plated up the food and sprinkled the chives on top before grabbing two plates each and speedily walking up the stairs.

"Merry Christmas!" We both shout at our parents as we burst into their room, our moods slightly deflating when we realise both of our parents are awake and waiting with smug smiles on their faces. "Aw, you're meant to be asleep."

My dad looks at us from over his small wire-framed glasses with a smirk on his face. "Despite you thinking that us old folk are going deaf and senile, it is very hard to sleep with the amount of noise you two created throwing pots and pans about."

I send a sideways eye to my brother before we break out in laughter, my parents joining in, and in the great Doherty family tradition, we sit down and eat.

~•~

I smile at my family as I come down the stairs dressed to the nines for church. My Mom and Dad are fussing over each other's outfits, my mother's nimble fingers stressing with his tie. My brother's eyes are drawn down to his phone, but his hair is neatly slicked back, and his face is clean-shaven. He's wearing one of my dad's suits because his weight gain means he doesn't fit into his own now, but I have to say he scrubs up well. Lucky for him, he's the same height as my dad and now shares the same broad shoulders, so his charcoal grey suit fits him snugly. His dark locks are tucked behind his ears, so he does look younger than his eighteen years, which I can tell by his fidgeting that he doesn't like.

I haven't broken out my dress in a long time; it might've even been last Christmas, or possibly Easter. Those are the only two times a year I really go to Church in formal wear if I can help it. The only other time my Mother will get me in a dress for Church is when she guilts me into it because I f'd up by missing curfew or by getting a bad grade on my report card. Otherwise, I'd be wearing jeans and a nice shirt for a casual Church service.

I personally hate it. I don't usually wear dresses anyway, and anything below the knee for me is a big no-no, so this powder pink knee-length dress is something that I would compare to vomit or something else that would make me want to be physically sick, but my Mom loves it, and I only have to wear it twice a year.

"Aww, my baby Alex!" My Mom coos, rushing over as fast as her heels will allow her just so she can pinch my cheeks between her fingers. I scowl and swat her away, but her praise does make me happy, despite the fact we both know I wear the same thing -- it's already Mom approved."Don't you look gorgeous?"

"Yeah, doesn't likkle Alex look super pretty," Will teases, pocketing his phone in his trousers. "All pretty and feminine in her pretty pink dress."

"Oh, knock it off." I scowl, swatting away his hand that's slowly creeping up to mess up my hair. My dad tuts at the pair of us, muttering something under his breath about growing up and bickering like children. I don't say anything else because there's no point in starting a childish verbal argument with my brother, especially not whilst my mom is so high on Christmas spirit she could start spitting out tinsel at any moment.

I do not want to be the one that pokes that bear. Not today.

Will blows me a kiss that I sarcastically catch before our whole family piles out of the house and into my dad's car. The mood instantly lightens once my dad starts up the car, the warm air blasting from the heaters and Christmas music from his speakers. I smile as I watch my parents sing Fairytale of New York together, my mom holding up an invisible microphone between the two of them, their laughter carrying over their god-awful singing.