Sparked (Now Published!)

Sparked - Chapter 2

The front door to Corey’s house was unlocked, so I let myself in.

“Knock, knock,” I said loudly, looking around.

“Brooke, is that you?” I heard from the kitchen. Corey’s mom appeared in the hallway, wiping her hands on her apron.

“The one and only. What are you baking?” I asked, shutting the door behind me.

“Cookies,” she smiled. My face practically lit up; her cooking was the best. “But they won’t be done for awhile now, Corey’s up in his room. Go on.” She shooed me away with her hands, laughing to herself a bit.

I turned and ran up the stairs, not stopping until I got to his door.

“I hope you’re decent,” I yelled before letting myself in.

Corey’s room was a typical guy’s room – minus the stereotypical naked posters. It was full of blues and greens. Sports posters lined the walls and hockey trophies and medals on the shelves. It was fairly messy, but that was how it’d always been. I’d spent so much time in here that his room was like my second bedroom. If it was magically clean I’m pretty sure I’d think I was in the wrong room.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of his television, playing a video game. He was facing away from me so I could only see the back of his chestnut hair.

“How was school, little missy?” he asked, not looking away from the hockey game he was playing.

I let out a large groan as my answer and plopped myself down next to him. Sitting on my knees, I put my head on his shoulder.

He chuckled.

“Does my pain amuse you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow even though I know he couldn’t see. I could feel the muscles on his arm and shoulder move against my head as he tensed from the game and pressed different buttons.

“Absolutely.”

I sat up properly and narrowed my eyes. I shoved his arm to the side, causing him to miss the shot at the goal he was trying for.

“No,” he yelled, upset and raised his hand up to my face to shove me away from him, “Get out of here.”

I fell to my side from the shove and laughed. He was always good at cheering me up.

“You know what I was thinking?” he asked, sticking his tongue out a bit as he concentrated.

I sat up on my knees once more.

“That I’m awesome?"

“Yeah right, that’s only me.”

“That you want to make me dinner?” I questioned.

“What? Do you want food poisoning? I was thinking –”

“I should be named queen? So was I.”

“Yeah, and Nate your king,” he said.

That was uncalled for. I shoved him repetitively, causing him to lose the puck. He looked at me and tried to seem angry. I’ve known him long enough though to be able to see the amusement on his face.

“Not. Cool,” he said and shoved me a bit.

“Either was what you said,” I countered and stuck my tongue out. I shoved him back and stood up, mainly to get away from him.

“Oh no, you’re not getting away,” he yelled and dropped his controller, taking about three steps to get to me before grabbing my upper arm.

Still holding my arms, he dipped me down a bit, causing me to lean back and almost fall over before he steadied me with the hands holding my arms. He did this a few times, laughing up a storm at my panicked expression.