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"Noah!" I groan, pulling up his pants for the fifth time. "Stop stripping, man, nobody wants to see your ass."
When I got home from practice mom and dad were all over the place. Setting the table, freaking out about how long the food was on the stove. And if you knew anything about my parents, you'd know they're both perfectionists. But the way they were doing all the cooking and cleaning was wayyyy too extra. Even for them.
"Mommy said you're not allowed to say that." He frowns, his little arms crossed. "And it's a bad word, too, Din-Din. So say it and you get the shoe."
I gasp, holding my chest for effect. "Not the shoe!"
"Mhm," he nods, sticking his nose in the air, "da shoe. Daddy's shoe, too, Kamden, so it gone hurt more."
He's the fucking cutest.
"Mkay, then no more bad words, yeah?" I hold out my thumb to him, he hooks his pinky around it, kissing my hand before bolting out of the room and yelling, "Sissy!"
What'd he just call me?
I furrow my eyebrows, standing up and leaning over to look at who he's talking to. No freaking way is she here right now. I see her look up and honestly? It's in freaking slow motion. I duck behind the door, realizing I still haven't changed like mom told me to earlier.
Did I put on cologne?
What about deodorant?
Are my sweatpants clean?
Did I shower this morning?
How is she so pretty? Do I look like shit? Compared to her, proba-fucking-ly.
Ugh, how the fuck is she so pretty?
"Hi, Noah." Her voice is soft and lighthearted as I imagine her picking my brother up and off the floor, just like she does every time she sees him. Which is hardly often, they visit almost every holiday considering our parents have been friends since high school but that's all. "Where's that brother of yours, huh?"
"Behind the wall hiding from you." Noah answers. Now you're the one that's gonna get the shoe, brat.
"Then the little bi- banana colored easy bake oven built bi- boy must not want to see me. Tell him your mommy is calling him and to come downstairs."
Running a hand through my hair, I tug on it, trying to decide if I should go out there or fuck it. Fuck it, I think almost immediately.
Should I though? What if I really do look bad?
Have I washed my hair?
What if we kiss?
What am I saying? She'd never even think about it.
