Flight Risk

Capitulo Nueve

Picture of Liliana----------------->

“Wake up gorgeous!”

“Go away Sam,” I grumbled, not at all ready to be conscious. Lately it felt like no one was content to let me sleep. I was either working at the diner in the morning, taking someone to school or bound by some preexisting agreement to be awake before I was physically ready. Unfortunately, today seemed to be no exception.

“Not Sam,” the voice replied with a huff.

I cracked open an eye and squinted in an attempt to focus on the man in my bedroom that had identified himself as “not Sam.”

“Brad, I’m trying to sleep,” I complained, “This was my first peaceful night’s sleep in two weeks. Why do you feel compelled to pull me from this wonderful phenomenon?”

“Because you said you’d go shopping with us,” he announced, pulling the nice warm covers away from my body, “Has anyone ever told you that you have nice legs?”

“Brad!”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’. What do you think? She’s got nice legs, right?”

“Very. They’re so tanned and toned,” Sam replied.

My eyes instantly opened to find Sam leaning in my doorway giving me a very hot, very slow once over. His blue eyes felt like fire as his gaze burned into me and I could feel my heart begin to beat to the sound of a different drum.

“Out!” I exclaimed.

“You heard the lady!” Brad announced. “She wants some alone time with yours truly!” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, making me laugh.

“Both of you!” I amended as I swung my pillow at Brad for a surprise attack that hit him right upside his perfectly styled dirty blonde hair.

“Alright, alright! No need to get violent! I needed to go blow my nose anyway,” He protested, hands held out before him in placation.

When the door clicked shut, I ran and locked it to prevent any “accidental” interruptions. By themselves, I wouldn’t have even thought it was necessary, but together those two were always up to no good. I hurriedly dressed myself and brushed my teeth and hair, making sure to grab a light jacket so I wouldn’t be cold in the quickly changing seasons.

“Vamonos,” I told them the moment I walked into the living room.

“You heard the lady,” Brad said again, “Let’s go!”

“Shh! Kristy’s sleeping dumbass.”

“Oh, right. My bad.” Brad replied in an over exaggerated whisper.

Both Sam and I rolled our eyes, but said nothing further as we followed him out of the door and to the driveway. As we approached my Jeep, I pulled out my keys only to have Sam steal them from me.

“You better call it before Brad does,” Sam told me, his voice lowered conspiratorially.

“Call what?”

“Shotgun!” Brad yelled in a volume that could only be described as extreme overkill.

“You can’t call shotgun!” I exclaimed the moment he practically screamed it.

“Well according to the ‘Bro code’ the standard shotgun rules are as follows: ‘A. Shotgun may only be called within full sight of the car, B. Shotgun must be called outside, C. Shotgun calls last approximately ten minutes, and D. Shotgun never carries over to a second ride.’” He told me so seriously it was almost comical.