It's Not Cool | Jonas Brothers

Chapter 1

Frankie's P.O.V.
Pippa and I went back upstairs. It was too awkward downstairs with our parents.

Is it wrong of us for wanting to see our brothers. They know we are a tight knit family, but lately it doesn't feel like we are.

I'm 12, not stupid. I see Pippa. I see her hurt. I can't see her in this amount of pain. It hurts me too.

I'm sorry for being selfish, but I liked it better when they lived back at home. With us I mean.

Pippa wouldn't be so sad all the time and mom and dad would get less upset with us. I know we act up, but what else do we have to do to get them to get through to the boys to come home or hang out with us.

It's like we vanished into thick air. I know they care and I'm over exaggerating, but try not too when you find your older sister crying over it every single time she's alone in her room. It hurts.

I know the boys are hurt as well and I know we've all been through tough times when the band broke up earlier this year.

They'd been distant and we knew it was trouble, but we didn't figure it out until mom and dad sat us at the table and told us the news of their break up.

We knew Nick started the conversation and he spoke his fear of the others not talking to him anymore to our parents. We felt for him and wanted to comfort him, but he wasn't ready to let us in.

It feels like he still isn't, but it's been months. It's not healthy.

Kevin got over it and got happy with Danielle. Joe had started with DNCE and Nick had apparently been focusing on his solo carreer.

Only a few weeks ago was when they got together after months of therapy. They got through some healing and they were ready to do music again together. I know them longer then today. I think they all think that music is their way to reconnect.

I hate that they went through this alone. None of the boys reached out to us, ever told us anything that went on in their lives. We're out of the picture.

I just hope they reach out to us before Nick's birthday. My birthday is September 28th while Nick his birthday is September 16th. We're not that close in days, which is why it doesn't bother me.

Pippa's birthday is September 18th. Our parents have always found it easier to celebrate together, but when the band started and got bigger, Pippa's birthday was not that important anymore. Her birthday has been in the shadows of his birthday.

Every year she exclaims it doesn't bother her as she still gets the presents she deserves, but I can tell it hurts her when guests congratulate him with his birthday and after congratulate her with her brother's birthday.

And now Kevin, Joe and Nick are back to practicing together and they won't see us.

Why won't they see us? Why won't they talk to us? I don't care if they don't talk to me. I'm angry with them for putting Pippa through this amount of pain. I've seen her take sleeping pills to get some sleep. She's been sleep deprived for months and they don't even know.

Mom and dad don't even know that. She begs me not to tell them. She literally went on her knees to beg me not to tell them. It had cost me every muscle in my body to keep myself from telling them. It isn't healthy. Her grades are also dropping.

Her grades dropping doesn't sit well with mom and dad. A lot of fights are about her grades. I do everything I can to keep mine up. That'll be one less fight to fight.

But I'm slowly giving up. It's too hard to run this family, stop the fights when they get out of hand, do my homework, comfort my sister when she's crying, cook next to my mom when my mom is staring into space while trying to cook for us. I do most of the laundry with Pippa's help when she can. I do most of the cleaning in the house with my mom when she can. I take out the trash. I retrieve the mail from the mailbox. I can't do it anymore though. It's too much.

Pippa and I stay up for hours. Me holding her in my arms when she can't sleep again.

I hold her, because I'm worried she'll do something else. She's safe in my arms, taking breaths to stay alive. Leaning her head on my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around her. I know she's safe when she's here. She's alive when she's here.

We usually sit like that for hours until we finally both can get some sleep before our alarms wake us up for another day of boring lectures from teachers telling me to stay focused on their explanations. They have no idea what it's like. They have no idea what's going on and I'm not one to tell. I can fix this myself.

"Can you help me with the laundry?" I look up to see Pippa in the doorway with a crate filled with clean laundry resting on her hip.

I motion for her to enter. She sits across from me and dumps the laundry on the bed.

We each take piece for piece off the laundry pile to fold and divide the clothes into piles for the designated owner of the clothes.

There's a comfortable silence while we fold all the clothes, that's how it usually goes.

"Thanks." Pippa thanks me when we finish folding the clothes. "No thanks." I get up to put my clothes away while Pippa gathers the other piles in the crate and goes to put them away in our parents' and her closets. With that I get myself ready for school.

I know I have to help her.