His Sister

Chapter 1.

When the Girls talk boys!" Ashton bobs his head to the beat. The car is vibrating as we roll down the street. His hair shakes and moves with every bob, and his fingers drum on wheel. I smile and sing along, proud of my brother. He's always worked so hard and he's an amazing drummer.

"Alright, so, what do you want to do today, sis?" He asks, eyes scanning the road as he drives. I shrug, and fix my oversized sweatshirt. He looks over at me, rolling his eyes,

"C'mon, Allie. I know you want to do something." I laugh and shrug. He groans and rolls back his head, pouting. He turns the car right, and starts to switch lanes. He says, "Okay, well, I'm hungry. Let's go get some tacos." I nod, and check my phone. No notifications. It's funny how my brother is Ashton Irwin and I still don't get any notifications. I'm not even verified. Pfft.

"Ooh! Let's ask Michael to come!" I say, excited. Ashton nods and I pull up my iMessage. I text Michael and he replies with a yes immediately. Yay!

Michael is like my second brother, because Ashton isn't always the best. (That's a lie, he's amazing.) But Michael, Ashton and I have always been really close. Well, the band and I are close. But Michael is cool. Him and I share the same sense of humor, and he's always there for me. Like the time him and Ashton went to beat up my ex, or when him and Luke ordered a mariachi band to perform for my birthday, at two AM!! There's a lot of more stories, but I'll save those for later.

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We get to the taco place, called Greasy Green's, (which doesn't make any sense at all. Green's aren't greasy) and I take a seat. Ashton orders up front, a lot of people recognizing him, and I smile at the girls all fangirling. Ashton orders a dozen of tacos, and sits down. Between Michael and Ashton, they can eat a lot of tacos.

Michael walks in, spiked hair and all. The aqua tint really brings out his...piercings. His ripped skinny jeans and white wrinkled tee expresses him clearly. As always, the girls are drooling, thinking to themselves that the tacos aren't the only hot thing in this place.

Before you ask, no. I do not like Michael. We're friends. We're non-blood siblings. Also known as NBS. We call each other that. Only the band knows what it means. But it's mostly Michael and I's thing. It's better than nick names.

"How's my NBS doing?" He asks, sliding into the seat next to Ashton. I smile and reply,

"Great." He smiles and Ashton makes a weird noise. He's so weird, yet so funny. He runs his fingers through his light caramel hair and takes a gulp of his lemonade. Michael grabs my drink and takes a swig at it as well. I smile and shake my head. Michael gives the cup back and I wipe the straw with my sleeve. Michael looks offended and I exclaim,

"You have cooties!" Obviously meaning to be childish. Ashton acts like Michael is a piece of garbage and holds his nose, turning away. Michael laughs and so do i, taking a sip of my drink. The waiter brings us our tacos, and Michael and Ashton scarf it up. I have two, Ashton has about four, and Michael eats the other six. They're pigs.

"How can you all eat that many?" I ask, scrunching my nose as the grease drips out of Ashton's taco. He exclaims back with a mouth full of taco,

"We have skill that you don't have!" Michael nods, chowing down, and I shake my head. Where do they put it all? I take another satisfying sip of my root beer and check my phone. Still no notifications.

I think the problem is I don't have much friends. I've only ever grew up with the boys. I don't really go to school anymore, and since I'm always helping the band, I never get time to meet anyone. Luke, Calum, Michael and Ashton are all I've ever known.

"You see, you eighteen year olds don't have a big enough stomach to fit all this goodness in." Michael exclaims. Ashton mutters an "Amen." for some reason and I just shake my head, refreshing Twitter for the fourth time.