My definition of Andy? Asshole. Complete asshole.
I'm laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. I've been sitting like this for what seems like hours. It hurts too much to do anything. I'm honestly freezing. I'm soaked from my ribs up and for whatever reason, it seems like I can't breathe. Fucking Andy.
I wonder for a second how Lan's doing. He could've got it almost as bad as me, and he's a lot smaller. Then I remember I don't care that much.
I roll over slowly, and carefully step down from my bed. A wave of shock hits my entire body as I throw off my blanket, the bruise forming on my shoulder feels like it's getting stabbed. I groan loudly, and then immediately shut myself up. If Andy knew how bad I was hurting I'd never hear the end of it. I'm so sick of him.
Walking into my bathroom, I turn the shower handle and grab some towels from the cabinet in the hall. I run into Parker in the hall and he runs, scared, back to his room. I can't stop myself from smirking at the fact that I freak him out so bad.
I don't really know if it's normal the way the four of us act around each other. It's like natural selection or some shit. And I mean, yeah, I do my part, but Andy always goes way too far with everything.
Our dad actually tried sending us all to a family therapy thing when we were younger but it got too expensive and we hated it anyway.
Dads a good guy. I guess. I never see him anymore cause he works so much. Andy is always in charge. Figures. Not only am I lucky enough to be born the younger brother of a prick like Andy, but I end up with no mom and a dad who's always gone, leaving me, Landon, and Parker to the sharks.
I throw my towel down on the toilet seat and step through the glass doorway of the shower. The warm water hitting my back feels great, but if I turn around, I know for a fact it'll hurt like hell. I run my cold fingers across the span of my ribs, wincing every time I hit a sore spot. Everything is already bruising. Awesome.
"Dude get off!!" I'm screaming, punching at Andy's arms trying to get him to loosen his grip on me. He's dragging me and Lan through the house, Lan by the back of his hair, me by my boxers, to the first floor bathroom. I already know where he's going with the whole situation, and I'm fighting my hardest to get out of it.
"Shut up." He says back, bringing his knee to the back of my leg, sending me falling face first onto the hardwood floors. I'm not even mad at the blood flooding from my busted lip, more with the fact that I am now dangling by my underwear in his right hand. I hold in the tears brimming in my eyes, and see Lan struggling to do the same.
"C'mon Andy. Please! I didn't do anything!" He's begging. I snicker under my breath. Landon never has to deal with Andy like I do. It's about time I share the torture with one of my brothers.
My laughing cuts off and my breath hitches when I feel myself released from Andy's grip and he's throwing me at the ground. I cry out as my right shoulder smacks against the side of the toilet, cracking loudly as my body falls to the cold tile floor.
"What the hell man??" I yell, shutting my eyes tight, grabbing my shoulder in pain. I look to Andy, then to Landon who's giving me an "Oh shit" kind of look. I think we both know now that he's not playing around this time. What even pissed him off so much? I know I didn't do anything.
For once I didn't start it, and he breaks my shoulder? What a jerk.
"Alright. This can go one of two ways for you, Grant."
"Is one of them the way where you didn't just break my shoulder? Cause it's a little late now," I mumble, army crawling across the room to try and get to the sink. I can still feel my face dripping blood. Nasty.