Arron Cox. I have known him for 14 years, and we have been mortal enemies for 13 years. The reason being because on my 4th birthday Arron threw me off of my swing set resulting in me breaking my arm and beloved swing set (though I cried more because of my swing rather than my terribly broken arm).
They say there is a fine line between love and hate. Which is the excuse I have been using to convince myself that is the reason why I, Tia Hayden, am in love with my brother's best friend.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RING, RING, RING, RING
"Luke! I'm going to kill you!" I shouted to my big brother opposite my bedroom.
"Ssh, no need to wake everyone else sis." He sniggered in return.
"Why the heck did you set my alarm to 5am in the school holidays?" I screamed.
"Because." He replied. Douche. I suddenly had the greatest idea.
I tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen, filled up a saucepan, and tiptoed to Luke's bedroom trying not to spill it. "Knock knock." I called outside of his door.
"Piss off!" He mumbled from his pillow.
"Dude. What if it was gran at the door?"
"Would Gran be outside my bedroom door at 5 in the morning whilst on holiday in Tunisia? Yeah ok." He sniggered. With that I burst through the door and tried to throw the water over him. Note the word 'tried'. What actually happened was I burst through the his wooden door and tripped over the mattress on the floor, resulting in me falling face first into Arron's chest and the pan ending up spilt all over my butt.
"Oh my gosh where's my phone!" My idiot brother asked Arron who looked like he had seen a ghost.
"Ow." Was all I could say and jumped up from Arron's firm, warm chest. "When did you get here?"
"When you went to bed at 7pm like a toddler." Luke replied slowly.
"I had art class all day and I was tired."
"Well whatever you were trying to do failed, so get out of my room!" Luke said and threw his pillow at me.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I threw on my Abercrombie navy jogging bottoms and white vest and ran downstairs. "Mom can I have some mo..." Arron was sitting on my kitchen counter topless and soaking wet. "Erm, you're still here?" I choked out. It seemed to be my oxygen supply was gone.
"Woah Tia, running me out of your house. That's not the way to treat a guest." Arron replied with a smirk on his face.
"You're hardly a guest. You practically live here, and you're wetting the counter man." I said extremely flustered.
"I was in the pool. Wanna come and join me?" He asked flexing his biceps. Who needs air?
