Bro Code : Luke Hemmings IN EDITING

Chapter Twenty-Five

I'm not a big fan of gory things, so when the hook gets put through her mouth, I always turn into Michael. This time, he lays his long skinny fingers over my disgusted eyes to hide the bloody woman in the red dress from my sight. I place my hand over his to ensure that he doesn't take them off at the height of the scene just to be a dick. 

"Tell me when it's over," I tell him.

"Got it, babe," I hear him chuckle in his low tone. My stomach still has a secret flutter when he uses those cute names for me, but nothing like the times that Luke says it to me. A couple seconds pass before Michael tells me that the scene has ended. 

"That's the worst part of the whole movie. How does she even stay on the hook?" I ask him.

"What do you mean how? She just does," he says, not knowing one of two things: what I mean or what the answer is.

"But she's heavy. Sure enough her head would either fall off or her jaw would come off. Right? Why doesn't that happen?" I restate.

"I don't know. It's in the script.." he tells me.

"All right, smart ass," I laugh as the ending credits roll onto the screen. I push myself from within the hole we've created in the couch and nearly fall when I realize my leg is asleep. 

"I thought you weren't clumsy?" Michael smirks.

"No, I don't ever remember saying that," I state. I'm too clumsy for my own health at some points. 

"Mama or Devil Inside?" I ask him from the pile of the movies at the TV.

"Devil Inside." I nod to myself and switch out the movies. When I turn and look back at the couch, Michael is lying down, taking up nearly the whole thing. 

"Sit up," I whine. 

"Nope," he says, popping the 'P'. "You can lie here with me, like we always did," he smiles, "or you can sit down there," he points to his feet. I debate whether it's a good idea or not. I don't want to give him the wrong impression. Plus, I know Luke and I aren't dating, but I wouldn't want him to think something that's not true; how would he find out anyways? He won't.

"Scoot over," I smile and lay next to him. I can feel his long arms move behind me, doing something. I turn my head, and I see him pull the blanket down. Great. I knew I should've sat at the end, I can feel myself getting nervous, not only for me, but for him as well. 

"Are you cold?" he asks.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," I politely, but quickly refuse the offer. 

 "Suit yourself," he says, pushing me forward so he can cover himself up. I feel slightly awkward now, no doubt. "Are you going to be scared this movie?" he asks.

"You know the paranormal stuff freaks me out," I tell him.

"Why? It's all bullshit anyways," he smiles. I don't like it when he cusses, he doesn't do it enough for me to get used to, only lately.

"You don't know that," I tell him. "When I die, I'm going to haunt you to prove it."

"911 what's your emergency?" I read and hear the voice on the television. This is the part that makes my hair stand up. The eerie sound on the other end of the line. The horror held within her voice as she tells the woman that three people are dead. Three people, she killed them. No mercy, not a hint in her tone. I try to distract myself from the restless, yet silent call that's still happening in the movie. I let my eyes wander to the wall, and let my ears drift to the sweet breath coming from my best friend behind me. I pick up the scent of his cologne that I didn't notice before, still one of my favorite things about him. I wonder what time it is. It has to be nearly four in the evening.