Chapter 7

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Dinner with this family has to be the weirdest. In a grungy, small house with barely anywhere to sit except the furniture we sleep on, having dinner with nine people is definitely weird. In my entire life, I have never sat together with more than five people. Most times, I dine with my sisters, or my girlfriend. Sometimes, when I have time to myself, I eat alone. Rarely is Mom available to us, so I've only eaten with her probably twice in three whole years.

Also, never have I ever had dinner with my dad and my two older brothers. That, I didn't think, was possible.

Yet, here we all are, sitting and staring at each other. Isn't that awkward? I probably look like I made out with a black, blue, and purple-colored stamp. Everyone is either trying to figure out what happened to me or trying to ignore it.

I can't seem to remember what happened; I sort of blacked out (more like spaced out, but what's the difference, really?) while I was in the car.

"Girls," Dad's voice breaks the silence, inevitably interrupting me from my thoughts. "What do you think of your brothers and I returning home?" he asks. For some odd reason, Dad's voice sounds calm, rhythmic. It sounds as if he's about to sing a melody or something—but I wouldn't count on him to even try; his singing is probably terrible.

The girls give each other looks; only did Ashley glance towards me. She was sitting right next to Dad.

Shyly, Ashley speaks up softly, "I-I missed you, Daddy." The sight of my father's smile combined with his crinkling green eyes makes me feel weird inside. We all watch, observing the way he caresses my sister's hair. He bends forward, kissing her forehead. Leaning back, away from her, Dad gazes at Ashley in awe.

"Oh, Ashley, I missed you, too. Thank you," he responds just as softly.

I would call bullshit on his part . . . but I won't. Not in front of the girls.

Ashley returns a smile, feeling content. She resumes eating the pasta I made for dinner.

"I think we didn't get the chance to thank Bryson for making us this delicious meal," Kailum says brightly. I don't look up from my plate as I stuff my fork in my mouth, slowly taking tiny bites of my food.

Murmurs of "Thank you, Bryson" fill the air. I don't exactly know what to think of it. It's just weird.

"Bryson, you okay?" Mom suddenly asks me. I nod my head, still keeping my eyes on my plate. Grabbing ahold of my third beer from the table, I chug some down. The burn wakes me up, ironically; a buzz runs through me that makes me feel lightheaded.

"Yeah," my voice croaks out. "'M okay." I know she doesn't believe me. I'm gonna make a guess and say no one else does, either.

"Bryson, don't you think you've had enough?" Dad gives me a look that I cannot comprehend. What did I do?

"I think 'M fine . . ." I mumble lethargically.

Listen, this buzz is the only thing keeping me up. I'm about to drop dead in the next fifteen minutes and I'd rather do that once I'm at my bed. Right now, I'm gonna drink my Goddamn beer.

I let out a lengthy burp that gets the giggles out of Verona. I grin at her.

"You think burping is funny?" I ask her playfully. She laughs, nodding her head excitedly. I let out another just to be on the safe side, and sure enough, I get giggles out of all the girls, excluding my mother, of course. Only my sisters understand my corniness. Everyone else apparently can't take a joke.

My dad clears his throat, then pats Kade on his shoulder. Dad nods his head in my direction. Kade swivels his head over; his usual rambunctious attitude is all of a sudden gone, replaced by an unusual, stern look. Kade abruptly stands up from his seat and walks over to me, pulling me up by my arm.

"What the hell—?" I manage. Kade roughly tugs on my arm. Hastily, I'm being dragged into the next room.

"Kade's taking you to bed. You need rest, Bryson," Dad calls out from the kitchen. Are you fucking serious?

While Kade's pulling me up the stairs and into my bedroom, I begin to feel nauseous.

"Dude, calm down. I feel sick."

"Just lie down," Kade grunts, pushing me until I fall backwards onto my bed. I let out a groan when my head nearly smacks against the wall. My eyes, to my surprise, instantly shut once I'm soaked into the mattress. I groan again, because my body aches. I guess I am tired.

Kade starts pulling off my boots, dropping them onto the floor. He removes my socks, then the belt from my pants.

"How do you sleep? Shirtless? Boxers? Naked?" questions my weird brother. Both of the twins are hella weird and I just cannot keep up with them.

"You gon' undress me?" I slur.

"Duh." Kade smirks at me. "Yeah," he sighs, "You've drunken enough, Minor."

I steups. I fumble with trying to find the hem of my shirt. My arms feel like dead weights, especially when I struggle to lift the damn shirt up over my chest.

"Can't do it," I mutter, gasping lightly. Kade snickers. His warm hands push mine aside as he drags my shirt up over my head, not caring if he's too rough with the action. When his hands land at the top my pants, he emits a strange noise. He has the nerve—"Stop."

"I wasn't doing anything."

"And you won't when I cut your hands off and feed 'em to my girlfriend."

"That's gross, Bryson."

"You're gross." Kade laughs. He unbuttons my pants, unzips them, then slides them down my legs. The sound of my pants hitting the wall makes me chuckle.

"Nice pubes," he comments.

"Shut the fuck up, Kade."

"Alright, alright. Jeez." Grabbing my legs, he sets them on the bed. "I'm done here. I'm gonna finish my food. It really is good," he says, complimenting me.

He actually sounds genuine for once.

I hum at him in response. Finally, rolling over, I rest my face against my pillow, falling asleep once and for all.

Kade shuts off the bedroom light and closes the door, retreating back downstairs to the kitchen.

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