In Her Laugh

1. At least say hi first...

Roman exits the car.

Clearly, they're well-acquainted with my behaviour. Guess, I just have to come up with a new tactic.

All of a sudden, I start coughing obnoxiously loud.

"Woah, Reese," Jaxson turns to face me with concern.

I continue coughing louder each time making sure that the itch in my throat can be heard loud and clear.

"Here," Jaxson hands me a water bottle. I take it from him using my right hand to cover my mouth.

"Th-" cough "-an-" cough "-k-" cough "-you," cough, cough, cough, cough.

Initially, my plan was to fake the cough and act like I'm sick, but I think some spit went down the wrong pipe and now I'm actually dying.

Karma.

"She's faking it," Roman opens the back door of the car and I slip to the other side, far from his reach.

Gulping, I drink the water.

"Jaxson, I think I'm getting sick. I'm hot," I put the back of my hand on my forehead and feign my sickness. 

"Reese, get out of the car or I will drag you out," Roman warns, his thick accent slips through.

Roman and I were around twelve when we moved from England to Singapore because of our parent's business, so our accent isn't as prominent as the rest of our brothers'. But that's good, one less thing people will question me about.

"No, Roman. I really don't feel good," I grit meeting Roman's gaze.

Then I feel the wall behind me vanish and I fall backwards onto the concrete.

"Fuck," I groan as I peel my eyes open. The empty blue sky comes into view. "Am I dead?"

"If you're not, I will gladly finish the job," I hear Roman offer from afar. My legs still prompted up on the car seats, I throw them back doing a summersault. Dizzy, I sit on the hard ground.

My hands intertwined over my legs.

God, I know that I don't go to church every Sunday and I haven't ever actually read the bible, but let's have a one-to-one here. Can we make this all be a dream and I promise I'll read the bible? I mean, how can you refuse that offer? You know I'm not an avid reader, so I must reall-

"Are you praying?" Jaxson snickers.

I snap my eyes open glaring at his six-foot figure leaning over me. His arms crossed over his chest, his chocolaty hair falls over his eyes.

"You need a haircut," I mumble getting onto my feet. I dust off my legs and squint looking up at him. If I didn't know him personally, I'd be intimidated by his tall and buff figure. "And you need to eat less protein. You're more in need of cardio."

"And you're in need of less attitude," Jaxson counters.

Both our eyes stand inline competing to see who can overthrow who.

I'm the first one to break it. I'm here on a mission and that mission involves Jaxson favouring me, not hating me.

"Jaxson, please don't make me go. I'll do anything. I'll do your schoolwork for a whole month. I'll even clean your room," I offer.

This is it. I've lost all respect for myself. I might as well go dig myself a hole and lay myself down. Willingly sacrificing myself to do university level homework was okay, but cleaning his room was another level of desperation and even Jaxson knows that.