“I still don’t get why we have to go to bed just because they’re all going to bed,” Kyla complained, flopping onto her sleeping bag irritably.
Going to bed early was the least of our problems. We’d all been stuck in the same clothes for a couple of days. I don’t know about the others, but I felt utterly disgusting. But what could we do? The closest person to our age was Maria and I refused to borrow anything form her. I knew that Kyla would too. I think I’d rather borrow something from a stranger.
“Because you’re cranky and need sleep,” Britain teased.
Kyla stared at him coolly. “I bet you think you’re so funny,” she drawled, flicking a finger through her hair dramatically. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re not.”
Britain shrugged, his ego still completely intact despite Kyla’s blow, and pulled off his shirt. Kyla and I both let out a cry of shock and covered our eyes. Was he seriously undressing himself in front of us? “Britain!” I shrieked, my hand securely over my eyes. “I know I’m family, but please change where others are not watching.”
Britain laughed softly. “Men are allowed to take off their shirts in front of others, you know,” he pointed out.
I uncovered my eyes and turned as Dannon appeared at the doorway, clad in one of Britain’s shirts and a pair of his pajama pants. Despite myself I had to admit that he wore it well. I wasn’t going to admit anything out loud—gosh no—but he looked better in that outfit than Britain ever did.
“Dannon gets to change outfits and we don’t,” Kyla grumbled.
Yeah. That was so unfair.
“I bet you guys would fit into something of Mom’s,” Britain suggested with a shrug. “That woman is as tiny as a freaking toothpick.”
A freaking toothpick? Why add the “freaking”? It made him sound envious.
“You know what?” I drawled, standing up and tugging down my shirt’s sleeve. “That’s actually a good idea.” I grabbed Kyla by the wrist and ushered her towards the door. We pushed past Dannon with barely a mumble of an apology and entered the hall.
“But I don’t want to borrow your aunt’s clothes,” Kyla mumbled.
“If you don’t want to, fine.” I shot her a look. “But none of us want to hear you complain about how gross you feel.”
Kyla sighed deeply. “I suppose borrowing some of Jill’s clothes wouldn’t be too bad.”
I rolled my eyes. “Good. Now shut up, little ones are already sleeping.”
We made our way down the hall, all the way down to the end, to Aunt Jill’s room. I knocked on the door twice before opening the door slowly, popping my head in. “Aunt Jill?” I called softly, trying my best to whisper.
“Come on in!” my aunt called from her spot in her bed. She looked up as we ambled inside, a smile on her face. “Hey guys! What do you need?”
I glanced at Kyla, who stood awkwardly beside me, before turning my attention back to Aunt Jill. “I was wondering if we could borrow some clothes,” I said softly, my gaze flicking over to Uncle Rick was passed out on the bed, his arms flopped carelessly out to his sides. His mouth was wide open, ungraceful snores erupting from his mouth. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “He falls asleep fast,” I mused.
Aunt Jill spared a glance at her husband, letting out a snort. “Yes and yes,” she replied, hopping out of bed and sauntering over to her bureau. I watched silently as she grabbed two comfy-looking shirts and two pairs of pajama shorts at random. I eyed the plaid pair, knowing that I wanted that pair. Luckily Kyla would want the polka-dotted pair so we’d be good.
She trotted over to us and handed us each a pair of clothes. She grinned as we smiled in delight over the pair she’d selected for both of us. She knew us well. “Here you go!” she chirped as we held the clothes within our hands. “Is there anything else you need?”
We shook our heads. I started toward the door, tossing her a smile. “Nope. Thanks, Aunt Jill.”
With that, we exited the room. I waited for Kyla to move past me before shutting the door behind us, cutting off Uncle Rick’s snores. I wrinkled my nose. I’d always known he snored—I mean, it wasn’t the first time I’d gone into Aunt Jill’s room at night. But this was the first time he’d snored that hideously.
“Okay, who calls the bathroom?” Kyla whispered, cutting off my thoughts.
I cocked an eyebrow at her. “There’s more than one bathroom,” I whispered back.
Kyla stared at me for a long moment before sighing. She tried her best to be as dramatic as possible, sounding pained that she had to explain herself to me. “Not up here,” she explained, shooting me a feigned exasperated
“Well then.” I paused. “I call the one up here!”
I scurried away from her as she paused to process what I’d said. A few moments later, after I’d already rounded the corner, I hear a brisk, “Hey!” and then footsteps hurrying after me. “I already called it!” I called softly as to not wake the children slumbering in their bedrooms, turning and almost tripping into the bathroom. I giggled as I closed the door behind me. “Go downstairs and change,” I teased.
I heard Kyla huff. “No, I think I’ll just wait here.”
That was Kyla for you. Waiting instead of going down a set of stairs to the bathroom. Though, if I were to admit anything, I’d have to admit that I’d probably do the same thing. I mean by the time you got downstairs and into the bathroom, the person upstairs would already be done. And then you’d have to come back upstairs. So much work.
I undressed and threw on what Aunt Jill gave me. I felt so clean! Well, cleaner than before. I would have felt cleaner if I could have some clean underwear. But I wasn’t going to ask Aunt Jill for that. That was too personal—even if we were related.
“Hurry up!” Kyla called impatiently as I finished slipping on the shirt. It was rather comfortable! I pulled my hair out from underneath the shirt, looking at myself briskly in the mirror before sighing and trotting toward the door. I threw it open, finding an irritated Kyla on the other side. “Did you know you take thirty years to change?” she seethed.
“Next time I’ll go slower,” I teased, squeezing passed Kyla. I grinned as she shot a scowl in my direction.
“If you do that then I’ll kill you,” Kyla said lightly, practically throwing herself into the bathroom. I cocked an eyebrow at the closed door. She’d kill me? I wasn’t certain, but I was pretty sure that killing others wasn’t looked highly upon in most countries—including this one.
“You act like it’s a life or death situation,” I mused. “You’re not going to die from waiting two minutes.”
“I am if I don’t get in clean clothes now,” Kyla called, her voice muffled slightly from the closed door.
I smiled, shaking my head at my friend’s dramatic-ness before shuffling back to Britain’s room, my dirty clothes crushed into a ball within my arms. I paused in front of the door. Much like at my house when Dannon’d been on the phone, I could hear muffled voices under the door. Except, this time, I could not understand a word they were saying. There were a couple times when I thought I understood, but then I’d shake my head, knowing I’d gotten it wrong. But there was this one time where I could have sworn I’d heard my name.
I opened the door, my eyebrows rising as I spotted the boys on the floor, chatting like little girls at slumber parties. “What are you guys talking about?” I inquired, leaning against the door frame.
Britain and Dannon looked up. Britain stretched his arms out, a smug expression on his face while Dannon rolled over on his side, facing me with a bright smile on his face. I narrowed my eyes at them, almost certain they’d been talking about me now, before trotting forward and kicking the door shut behind me.
“Hey, Bri!” Dannon called cheerfully as I entered. “Come join the party.”
“Two’s a party, three’s a crowd,” Britain teased, standing up and flopping onto his bed. Apparently he didn’t want to sleep on the floor tonight. If I were him I wouldn’t have been slept on it the first night. The floor wasn’t comfy at all.
I scoffed, dropping myself onto my sleeping bed, curling up to my pillow. “I assure you, this is not a party.”
Dannon laughed, bringing a hand lightly through his hair. “Well, it isn’t now.”
I scowled at him, rolling my eyes. “Oh hardy har.” I sighed, looking between them, the scowl slipping off my face. “Now, what were you guys talking about?”
“Manly stuff,” Britain replied, shrugging. “Nothing you’d understand.”
“I heard my name,” I said casually, looking between the two of them again, waiting for one of them to divulge. But, from the looks on their faces, they weren’t about to anytime soon.
“World doesn’t revolved around you.”
I rolled my eyes at Britain’s attempt to sound cool and turned to Dannon. “What were you guys talking about?” I demanded, hoping that since he seemed to be the nicer of the two, he’d tell me.
Apparently not. Dannon chuckled, shaking his head. “Britain told you already.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me would you?” I mused, batting my eyelashes playfully at him. I bit my lip to keep from giggling at how foolish I felt. How did girls do this?
Dannon had no problem laughing at me, however. “I don’t know, maybe,” Dannon said with a grin. “You’d never know, would you? I mean, you barely know me.”
He’d only been joking, I got that. But it was true. And the weird thing was? Even though we’d only talked for like . . . what? A week or two? it felt like I’d talked to him like this forever. I glared inwardly. Was I becoming some damned sap? Oh hell to the no.
“True,” I said after a moment with a shrug. “Hence the question. Would you?”
Dannon sighed, a small smile spreading across his face. “No.”
I smiled back. “Good.”
| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |
I blinked blearily. I could feel a tight knot in my neck, my arms sore from the way I’d been sleeping. I blinked again. A figure was moving around the room. I glanced up, adjusting my position to something less painful, spotting Britain scurrying to get ready, his attempt to be quiet failing miserably. Though, I had to give it to him: for a total klutz, he was doing a stupendous job.
“Britain,” I whispered.
Britain jumped, dropping his backpack onto the floor. He spun, chucking an icy, shocked glare in my direction. “Dammit, Bri! Don’t scare me like that.”
I laughed slightly, barely able to keep my eyes open. “My apologies,” I mumbled, my voice slurring as though I were a drunk at a party.
Britain flipped me off. My lips twitched into a smile. How nice of him. “Go back to sleep,” he ordered, grabbing his backpack and hoisting it over his shoulder. I barely noticed the camouflage pattern that matched his gray T-shirt. I was going to open my mouth to tell him that for once he matched, but instead my head hit my pillow, a small eruption of laughter escaping my lips.
And then, within minutes, I’d fallen back asleep.
| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |
I awoke again to a snapping noise.
My eyes popped open and I looked up. Kyla knelt a few feet away, her camera positioned in front of her. I sat there for a moment, not able to comprehend what she was doing. Since when did she have a camera with her? I didn’t remember her packing one. But, then again, I wasn’t there when she was packing her bag to come over my house.
I suddenly became aware of why my friend was snapping pictures of me sleeping. Was that a—was that an arm around my waist? My eyes shot down to my waist, finding a muscular arm resting there. I froze. Was that breathing on my neck? I stared at the arm. I was going to kill him.
“Dannon!” I shrieked.
Dannon remained immobile. I struggled to wriggle out of his grip, but his arm simply tightened around me, pulling me closer to him. I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment before opening them. How did girls enjoy this? I felt like I was going to suffocate here in Dannon’s arms. Did girls have some subconscious yearn to choke and die? Probably.
“Dannon!” I hissed, smacking his arm repeatedly when he refused to move. “Come on, this isn’t funny.”
I paused for a moment as Kyla burst into laughter, almost dropping her camera onto the floor. “Oh my gosh,” she struggled out between fits of giggles. “I cannot believe you’re not just pushing his arm off!” she exclaimed. She shook her head, her face turning red as she left. “Oh my gosh!”
Huh. Oddly that thought hadn’t occurred to me.
I grabbed his arm and struggled to throw it off me. It was actually a lot harder than it looked. I made a mental note never to play arm-wrestle with him before snapping out a, “Dannon-Whatever-Your-Middle-Name-Is-Barone!” I let out an exasperated breath of hair, pushing my bed-hair out of my face. “Come on.”
I finally succeeded in pushing his arm off, and then I pushed him. I was too ticked at him to let him sleep any longer. Nope. He had to wake up with the rest of us. “Wake up,” I ordered.
Of course he didn’t move.
After a few more attempts at waking him up mercilessly, Dannon’s eyes finally fluttered—yes, fluttered—open. He was about to smile, but then he blinked and seemed to realize how awkwardly close we were. He lurched back, freeing me from his grip, letting out a small cry. “What the—?”
I sat up, fixing my shirt and bringing a hand through my hair. “Yeah,” I replied, kicking off my sleeping bag and standing up. “My condolences to your wife when you’re older. You’re such a bed hog, you know that?”
Kyla, her camera clutched tightly within her hand, snickered, pointing at us. She shook her head, saying, “On the other hand, Bri, won’t his wife like the fact that his arm is over her?”
I kept my mouth in a straight line, not ready to admit that she’d just proven me wrong.
Dannon chuckled softly, standing up and stretching his arms out. “Do you always make such amusing facial expressions?”
I let out a short laugh. “Yeah, all the time,” I drawled. “You get used to it.”
Kyla squealed with glee as Dannon smiled. “He’ll get used to it?” She clapped her hands. “That implies he’ll be around more! Isn’t that great, Dannon?” She flashed him her pearly whites. “Unless . . . you don’t enjoy hanging out with us.”
The amount of courage it probably took her to squeal that with confidence was probably astoundingly large.
“Of course I enjoy hanging out with you guys.” He let out a laugh. “If I didn’t, you’d know.”
I tilted my head to the side. Would we know? I mean, we didn’t know if he was a good actor or not. Though, his smiles that I constantly deemed false seemed more natural as the days went by. I was starting to think—maybe his smiles were real. Maybe Dannon wasn’t as fake as I made him out to be.
“Woo!” Kyla smiled.
Deciding to change the subject, I shot a questioning look in Kyla’s direction. “Where is my family?” I asked. “And what time is it? And how many pictures did you get? And—”
Kyla, seeming terribly overwhelmed by my questions, held up a hand. I closed my mouth immediately. “Brianne, I love you to bits, but I will make sure no one ever finds your body if you don’t stop asking questions.” She put her hands on her hips, staring at me pointedly.
I blew a few stray strands of hair out of my face, scratching an itch on my arm. “Well?” I began. “Can you please answer at least one of them?”
Kyla huffed dramatically. “Your mom and dad are trying to get ahold of a car guy, it’s almost ten o’clock, and I took a total of two pictures—none of which I intend to delete.”
I stared at her for a long moment, trying to comprehend what she’d just said. I was more preoccupied with wondering how the hell I slept in so late when I went to bed early than with worrying about the pictures Kyla took. I’d just grab her camera when she wasn’t looking and delete them. No biggy. But, seriously? We went to bed early last night! How could I have woken up so late? After a moment of standing there thinking—whilst looking like a complete idiot—it finally clicked: I’d woken up early and then gone back to bed.
Kyla pranced over to Britain’s bed, plopping onto it and kicking her legs into the air. “So, what shall we do today in this wondrous house?”
I glanced at Dannon. He was staring out Britain’s bedroom window at the trees. I thought over the options in my head. There wasn’t much to do inside. The most we could do was go downstairs into the game room. But I, being the game loather that I was, did not want to go down there. “Outside, I guess,” I muttered, not seeing any plausible options besides that.
Kyla let out a small laugh as she sat up straight and jumped off the bed. “Okie dokie!”
| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |
"Tell me again why we’re doing this?”
Dannon, instead of answering me, simply laughed at me, scooping more dirt and dumping it into a pail. He’d dragged me over to the sand box, informing me that we would be “making a lovely little sand castle.” No asking. Just informing. And what was worse? Kyla decided to take a shower right as we were walking out the front door. I’d watched her go, my eyes narrowed. I knew she wasn’t just talking a shower to feel clean. Oh, no. She thought she was so clever, but in reality? Nah.
“Because before we move on in life and go to college, we need to participate in a childish activity,” Dannon answered cheerfully, plopping more dirt into the pail.
I snorted. Well, when he put it that way. . . . “What do you call the water balloon fight?” I mused, plopping some dirt into Dannon’s pail. “And playing man hunt?”
Dannon paused, thinking my challenge over before smiling. “What would one more childish activity hurt?” He grinned, shooting an amused glance at me before patting the dirt down with his hand.
I let out a short laugh. “You are the weirdest football player I’ve ever met.”
Dannon laughed along with me. “And how many have you met exactly?”
I paused, digging my hand into the dirt of the sandbox. “One,” I mumbled after a moment. Sure, I’d met Kyla’s bratty boyfriends, but I didn’t really count them. I’d talked to them for like two seconds.
Dannon’s eyebrows rose. “Pardon?”
I snorted. “Oh good.” I reached over, patting the dirt in Dannon’s pail. “You sound like an old person.”
Dannon swatted my hand away, grinning as I let out a cry of shock. “I do not sound like an old person!” He pouted. “And don’t touch my dirt!”
“’Do not touch my dirt’?” I shook my head, laughing at him. “Oh my gosh, you’re getting possessive over dirt. This is not good.”
Dannon scoffed, flicking some dirt at me. I cringed as it landed on my thigh. I scrunched my nose, wiping it frantically away with the back of my hand. “I will stop being possessive of my dirt the day I die,” he teased.
“You will, will you?” I cocked an eyebrow.
Dannon smiled. “That’s what I just said.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment, just sat there and doodled in the dirt. But then I shot my hand out and knocked over Dannon’s pail. I was hoping for some epic dirt spill-out, but, sadly, it just stayed in the pail. What a failure!
Dannon chuckled, apparently finding my failed attempt amusing. “Nice try.”
I smiled evilly. “Oh yeah?” I grabbed the pail and shook it, laughing as the dirt poured out. “How’s this for trying?”
Dannon stared at the pail blankly for a moment, and then he turned to me, his eyes wide. His lips twitched downward—an unnatural look on his face—into a frown. “You ruined my pail,” he said softly. “This is probably the meanest thing someone has ever done to me.”
I sputtered out a laugh. “Meanest thing?” I shook my head. “Do you live in a bubble?”
Dannon’s pout grew. “I was going to build a huge castle. But you ruined it.”
I tilted my head to the side, wondering for a moment if he was actually upset. The way his lip jutted out like he was going to cry . . . the way his head tilted toward the ground, gazing upon the wreckage of his beloved dirt.
I was actually about to apologize, but then he looked up at me and smiled brightly. “You’re going to pay for that.”
Then he lunged for me, tackling me in the dirt.
“Dannon, what the hell—” I shrieked as he dug his fingers into my neck. Dammit! He was tickling me! “Dannon, stop!” I cried between giggles. I wriggled from beneath him, trying to get away, but he was too strong. “Dannon!”
Dannon chuckled, his fingers continuing to tickle me mercilessly. “You gonna touch my dirt ever again?”
I pounded my fist into his back, my meek attempt at getting him to stop. “No!” I paused to laugh until I began coughing. “Now—stop—it.”
Grinning, Dannon rolled off of me. I sat up, scowling at him. “I think I’ll use that weapon more often,” he mused.
I sighed, finally catching my breath. I shot a glower in his direction. “If you do, I’ll kill you.”
I wretched as Dannon tickled me again, sending me flying backward in the dirt. “Not if you die from suffocation first!” he teased.
“Dannon!” I shouted. I brought my hands up, pushing on his chest. It was rather had to do when he was tickling me so much that my stomach hurt. And you know what? There was dirt all over Aunt Jill’s clothes. She wasn’t going to be very happy about that! I’d probably never be allowed to borrow clothes from her again.
Between breaths I muttered, “Dannon, what’s your middle name?”
Dannon paused out of shock. I took the chance to knock his hand away, ready to curry away from him as fast as I could. But, sadly, at the last moment, Dannon brought his hand back between my neck and shoulder blade. “Maxwell,” he said simply, laughing as I squirmed. “Why?”
Maxwell? I laughed harder, the humor I found in that name adding to the tickling. Something about that name, though I didn’t really know what, just cracked me up! “Dannon Maxwell Barone, if you don’t stop—tickling—me—”
“What will you do?”
I froze as Dannon’s voice suddenly grew serious. And then, light a light-switch turned on, I became utterly aware of how close we were. My eyes widened. Was it just me or were his lips a little too close? And they were . . . growing closer. . . .
All of a sudden, Dannon pulled away, grinning like the idiot he was. “You should have seen his face!” he exclaimed, almost rolling around with his body wracked with guffaws.
I shoved him, glaring. I didn’t care about his stupid I’m-going-to-make-it-look-like-I-plan-on-kissing-you joke. It was the tickling thing that I was going to have a huge problem with. “Don’t tickle me like that ever again!” I reached down, grabbing some dirt and chucking it at his—well, Britain’s—shirt. “You do that again, and I’ll shove your face in.”
Dannon shook his head, snorting. “Yeah, okay.”