My Brother's Best Friend

1. Pietra's Jealous?

edited

"Amber, would you put the drinks in the fridge?" my brother, Louis, called out, not taking his eyes off the TV screen as my best friend and I walked in through the door, my arms full of grocery bags. We were having another one of his knockout parties tonight, much to my dismay, and he would make me go out and prepare for it while he sat on his lazy ass. He was in the living room, playing video games with his best mate, Harry.

"Okay," I sighed, rolling my eyes and dragging my best friend, Pietra, to the kitchen with me. As usual, she chirped a flirty hello to Louis and Harry, and they only grunted in reply, too wrapped up in Call Of Duty to care. Despite her gorgeousness, Pietra was in this house so often that neither boys payed her much attention.

The same couldn't be said for Pietra. She squealed as we made our way into the kitchen, setting her bags down, barely able to contain her excitement. She leaned against the counter and sighed dreamily, fanning her face.

"I think I just died," she told me, hopping on the counter and grinning. "You're so lucky, Amber. You get to have the hottest guy in school as your brother and his gorgeous best friend as, like, your bodyguard."

I stifled a giggle as I picked up the beers from the counter and placed them in the fridge. My long dark hair fell into my eyes, and I brushed it back with my fingers, turning to her with an amused look on my face.

"Pietra, what drugs are you on? You've seen my brother outside of school, he's a total asshole, same with Harry. And Harry's not my bodyguard."

"Still, I'd kill to be in your position." Pietra flushed and ran her hands along the counter. "I mean, come on. Surely it's not a little awesome?"

I leaned against the fridge and laughed. "Not at all. Actually, Pietra, I think you're the lucky one."

Countless people have asked me what it's like to have Louis Tomlinson as a brother. I mean, think about it. It would seem awesome on the outside, right? He's the most popular guy in school, knows how to throw the best party, and is the best athlete in the whole country of England. Not to mention, most girls think he's extremely hot. Not me, though. For God's sake, he's my brother. And most people don't know this, but he's a total ass.

For one thing, he's extremely arrogant. Just because everyone likes him doesn't mean he has to walk in the school doors like he owns the place, for Christ sake. Besides that, he's a total player. It's disgusting. He's got a new girl draped all over him every weekend.

But that's not really why I hate him. I hate him because he's so controlling and protective of me. He's always telling me what and what not to wear, how to act, and to top that off, he tells all his friends to stay away from me so I have no one to date. He says he'll beat up anyone that ever tries to come near me, even Harry, his equally annoying best mate, who hits on me constantly. And believe me when I say I know he won't break that promise. He's already done so twice.

I guess ever since Dad died, he's wanted to protect me, fill in the role that Dad couldn't. But I'm not a little girl anymore. I don't need his help. I'm sixteen, for God's sake. I just want to live my life.

Don't think it's not all bad having him as a brother. There are times when I feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the world. He can be really supportive, offering me advice and helping me with my homework and stuff. Sometimes he'll just give me hugs out of the blue. And when Dad died, he was the only one who really made me feel better. Well, Harry did too.

Speaking of Harry, he sauntered into the kitchen just then, looking like a freaking supermodel. Of course. His dark hair was perfectly tousled into messy curls, and his eyes were the greenest I'd ever seen them. He wore a black T-shirt that purposely showed off his muscles, and you could see hints of tattoos peeking out. He wore low-slung jeans with a spiked belt, and you could see the tiniest hint of his red boxers.