My Brother's Best Friend

Chap. 8

Why couldn't my brother be a comic book nerd?

~*~

"You basically have the apartment to yourself every afternoon," Michelle said, pulling out my early-release We The Kings vinyl, Somewhere Somehow.

"Every afternoon," I agreed. "The boys either have practice or a game."

Not that I'd ever admit this out loud, but it got kind of lonely around here, which is why I invited Michelle over.

"I'm so jealous that you actually have this," Michelle said, flipping my vinyl cover for Somewhere Somehow in her hands.

"It doesn't suck all the time to have powerful parents," I said, reaching over and taking my vinyl cover from her.

It had been a Yay You're Almost Done With Rehab gift from my mom.

"Alright, let's get to work," Michelle said, plopping down on the couch next to me and pulling out her laptop.

"I'm emailing you my paper now for you to edit," I said, running my fingers through my hair.

"You already wrote it?"

"Yeah, it's due tomorrow?"

"I literally hate you."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "It only took me an hour at most."

"That's because you're a whiz at AP Comp," she muttered, opening up a blank Word document.

I leaned back into the couch, letting the words of We The Kings wash over me as I waited for Michelle to complete her paper.

"How do you spell definitely?"

"How are you using it in context?" I asked, opening my eyes.

"This is most definitely the best-"

"No. You can't use your white girl slang in your AP Comp paper."

"This is why you're my Editor," she sang.

I couldn't help but chuckle, propping my feet up on the coffee table.

"I'm going to read your paper first," she informed me, opening up my email. "For inspiration."

Ladies and gentleman, I present to you Michelle, the ultimate procrastinator.

While Michelle was editing my paper, the apartment door opened, and Parker came in.

"Where's Emmett?" I asked him.

"Practice isn't over yet," he informed me, tossing his keys on the counter.

He was still dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, indicating that he hadn't gone to practice.

"Why didn't you go to practice?" I asked, letting my curiosity get the best of me.

"What are you, my mom?" he asked me, rolling his eyes before heading back his room.

"I literally don't know how you live in the same apartment as that boy," Michelle groaned.

"What do you mean?"

"All I want to do is rip his shirt off and lick his abs."

"Oh my God, I'm going to pretend like you didn't just say that."

"Oh come on," she said, poking me. "Don't pretend like he isn't drool-worthy."

"Parker Adams?" I couldn't help but laugh. "Gross."

She gave me a knowing look before emailing me back my now edited paper.

While I waited for Michelle to finish writing hers, Parker came back into the kitchen, taking the orange juice out of the refrigerator.