Max stares at brother, knowing that he's lying. He shakes his head and looks around Moose's room. "You didn't wake me up," he lies, "I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"Well, I'm fine," Moose says, forcing a smile. "You should go to sleep. Don't you have to wake up in a minute and go to Carson's house?" He asks, trying to change the subject.

"You should go to sleep because you need to rest. I'm fine with staying up, as long you're the one doing the sleeping," Max retorts, giving his brother a look.

His shoulders droop and he drops the forced grin. "I'm trying," he mutters, looking down at the carpeted floor.

"Try harder," Max demands, getting ready to shut the door. "And, yes," he begins, "I'm going to Carson's house at five, so if I come check on you and you're awake, I'm going to kick your ass before I leave."

"I'll be asleep," Moose promises, not because of the ass kicking part, but because Max is right. He needs to get some sleep. Watching as the door closes behind his brother, Moose falls onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He furrows his eyebrows in thought, and then looks away from the roof. He reaches up and turns the bright lamp off; pulling his covers over his long body.


Moose doesn't know when or how he managed to fall asleep, but he did. At 10:26 he woke up, his headache gone, but his nose pouring. He's sort of embarrassed about how he acted last night around his brother. He shouldn't of pretended like he was fine when he wasn't.

Storming down the stairs in loud stomps, Moose shoves his way by his overly large piano, and walks into the kitchen. His sister, Michelle, is stirring a pan of scrambled eggs while Max, his brother, is sitting at the table, typing rapidly on his phone. Moose takes a seat in front of the nineteen year old boy; the sound of him plopping into the chair echoing throughout the kitchen. "Hey," he mutters, rubbing at his tired eyes.

Max quickly looks up and winks at him. "I'm texting Carson," he mouths, pointing down at his phone. "Didn't you just come from her house?" Moose replies, raising an eyebrow. His eyes suddenly widen when he realizes his mistake.

"Who's house?" Michelle asks, placing three plates onto the table. She pushes two of them to her brother's and leaves one in front of the empty seat that she will be sitting in once she finishes cooking breakfast.

Glaring at his brother, Max turns to face Michelle. "I went to visit Nicole this morning," he lies straight through his teeth, not stuttering at all. He presses the power button on his phone, shutting it off so that Michelle doesn't see who he's texting.

"Nicole who?" She inquires, dropping a couple pieces of bacon onto a napkin. "Do I know her?"

"Probably not," Max replies. "She's younger and doesn't like to be the center of attention," he states. Moose snorts, causing a dirty look to get sent his way.

"Do you know her, Moose?" She asks dumping the eggs into a drainer, waiting until all the extra water pours out of the tiny holes. He shakes his head, not liking the thought of getting yelled at by his sister. If she finds out that he's been lying to her, she won't kick his ass, she'll kick him out.

Finally dropping the conversation of Nicole, Michelle swiftly places a bowl of eggs, a dish of bacon, and three glasses of orange juice onto the table. "I don't understand why I'm doing this for you guys. You're both capable of walking and you can work your arms just fine. I think I'm turning into a mom," she groans, falling back into her chair, her hand raised up to her forehead for dramatics.

"You look like one," Max retorts dumping a spoonful of eggs onto his plate. A hand suddenly appears, smacking his arm, roughly. "Ow," he rolls his eyes, "that hurt," he says, ripping a piece of bacon in half. He sticks it into his mouth with a dead-panned look on his face as he chews.

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