Don't Give Up On Me

Sixteen.

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December flew by in the blink of an eye. Zacky's birthday came and went, meaning we got shitfaced and then braved school the morning after. Finals lagged on, and then our break for Christmas came. Mine was spent with my friends, and then the day itself was spent at Serena's house with her family, our parents incredibly cozy on the holiday. She and I were still in an awkward stage of coexisting, since we both didn't want to get to know each other but also felt like we should, because of our parents' relationship. Still, we weren't attacking each other, so I guess it was as good as it could get.

She had become nicer, however, whenever I made Zacky apologize to her. She was finally done with her immature bullshit and so was he. I was just glad to see this all end, because it had escalated far too much before I arrived.

Ryan had decided that he was moving back in with us and transfer Universities to get away from the painful memories left in Texas, much like our father and I had. "California just feels... good. Like, this is where we all belong, you know?" he had said one morning over a plate of eggs. And I had to say, I agreed with him. Sure, I had been homesick for the first few weeks, and my start here hasn't been so smooth, either, but California had become my home. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. This little house was plenty for the three of us, and it didn't contain the awful memories of our past.

However, winter break was now pretty much over. Our qualifying competition was successful, our team in the top picks of our area. My freestyle, along with Violet's, Cara's, and Charlotte's were among the top ten girls that had received high scores, meaning we had a busy day ahead of us on the 12th, a week after school started back up. I was somewhat nervous, I mean, it was my first competition with a new team. But, I had a week and a half to relax until then, aside from practice.

As for right now, I was sitting in my art room on the phone, frustrated. All I wanted to do was hang out with someone on the last day of break, but everyone I tried was either not answering or busy. I spun around in my desk chair, the still-blank white walls the only thing in my sight. I was so utterly bored, and I grew tired of staring at these four walls.

I stop spinning and stand up, pausing for a second to allow my vision to go back to normal before walking out of the room and into the garage. "Where are you going?" Ryan asks when I step outside, where he was working on his car. He whipes the grease off of his hands and faces me, expectant of an answer. He resembled our father so much, it was scary; he had the same expression Dad used when he asked questions, and even stood the same way, if that made sense.

"Next door," I call over my shoulder, walking down the drive.

"Let me know if you go anywhere else. You're still technically on probation with Dad," he says as I cross the yard to the Baker's front door.

I don't answer, and instead knock on the door, where Zacky's younger brother, Matt, answers seconds later. His striking resemblance to his older brother always shocked me a little; the only true difference was their eye color. He lets me in and rolls his eyes when he says his brother was still asleep in his bedroom.

"I guess its up to me to wake him up," I shrug, taking the stairs to his room two at a time. I open his bedroom door and snicker at the sight before me. He was snoring lightly on his mattress, completely sprawled out on the full sized bed. The tattoo on his left arm that he recently got on his birthday was visible, and his face completely serene.

"This should be fun," I murmur to myself, making my way over to his bed. "Zacky," I call softly, nudging him. He doesn't even move, making me smirk.

"You're a fucking idiot," I say out loud when I spot the air horn on the top shelf of his closet. Thankful that his parents weren't home, I count down from three, turn my head, and push down on the little button, the piercing sound awaking him in a nanosecond.