Sister to Jonas

RBI

Joe's POV

I wake up late the next morning, seriously unmotivated to do anything. When did I get this lazy? Dragging myself out of bed, I slouch to the living room and flop down next to Brexley on the couch.

"Well, good morning, sunshine," she smirks at me, and I groan.

"I have no energy," I complain, and she laughs.

"I see that. Do you realize it's 1:00 in the afternoon already?" she says.

"No it isn't," I say, looking over to the clock and hoping she's just messing with me. She isn't. "Holy shit."

"That's what I'm saying," she says.

"Whatever. So what're you up to?" I ask, peering over at her computer screen.

"Looking at dates for How to Succeed," she says, showing me the Broadway website.

"That's the show Nick's in?" I say, and she nods.

"I think we should go see it," she tells me.

"Yeah, that would be fun. When?"

"Probably in the next few days. Before we fly back out to LA," she says.

"Whatever you wanna do, Brex," I say, burying my face back in the couch cushions.

"You can't sleep all day, Joseph. Let's do something. I'm sick of waiting for your tired ass," she says, but I don't even bother looking up at her. "I'm serious, Joe. If you don't feel like doing anything else, at least play some RBI Baseball with me."

Raising my head at last, I grin at her. She always knows what to say to make me motivate, at least a little bit.

"You can try to take me on," I smirk, "But it'll be very difficult."

"I highly doubt that. If I remember correctly, I wiped the floor with you the last time we played," she retorts.

"Won't happen again. I wasn't feeling well last time!" I try and tell her.

"Liar. You've always got an answer for everything," she says, shaking her head.

"You're right. Isn't it fantastic? Grab the controllers," I say, and she rolls her eyes at me but grabs them off the nearby charging station anyway, handing me the black one as always. I sign into my Xbox account at once, navigating to the game.

"I wanna be the Yankees," I tell her, and she laughs.

"Then be the Yankees, Joe. I don't care," she responds, so I pick the team with a huge smile on my face. It's the little things, it really is.

Brexley selects the Dodgers, as I figured she would, given we've been to a few of their games with the rest of our family out in LA. We decide to play the game at Dodger Stadium, and then the two of us adjust the uniforms quickly before looking over the starting pitching options and lineups for the teams. When we've finished being picky, we start the game.

My team hits first, as the visiting team, and Brex strikes out Ivan Nova to begin the game. This is starting out as a horrible gaming performance by me, which doesn't happen too often, to tell you the truth. But I know I have to get it together, because my sister isn't the type of sibling to soften the blow. She'll tell me I suck if I suck, and make fun of me endlessly for it.

"How's it going for you today, Joe?" she smirks at me, starting up already.

"Just pitch the ball," I say, leaning forward competitively as she delivers the pitch. Right down the heart of the plate to Derek Jeter? Bad decision. I send the ball flying over the center field wall. "DINGER!" I screech, dropping the controller on the couch and playing the Yankees' real home run song as video game Jeter rounds the bases.

"You are the most extra person ever," she says, rolling her eyes and watching me party. "You act like you've never hit a homer on this game before. Oh wait, that's because you haven't."

"I'll remember that when I kick your ass this game," I say, sticking my tongue out at her and sitting back down, ready to hit again.

I fly out to left center with the next batter, and the one after that I hit a sharp liner to short but it's caught. Though it's nice to already have a 1-0 lead over Brexley after the top of the first inning, I know I have to go to work pitching to her because if I'm not careful, I'll be down by five going into the second inning. That's just how my sister is. Here goes nothing; I've got to win this game.