❝ sometimes when i look into your eyes, i pretend you're mine, all the damn time. ❞
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
She has boobs. My bonito has boobs. Well not exactly mine, but that's just a little detail to work out later.
"You didn't tell me your little sister was gonna be in town." I say to Pedri as he tries to throw out the rat Isabel is so afraid of. She's always had that fear. Ever since I've known her.
I remember the first time she saw a rat. She was so afraid she basically jumped on me, holding on for dear life. And that's rare, because on normal occasions, she doesn't even get fifty inches close to me.
"Well, she didn't exactly tell me either." Pedri's always been a good brother. Especially when their parents passed away. I'm not exactly sure how they died. We never really discussed it. Their father died one day before their mother did.
Pedri was already eighteen, so he got custody of Isabel, luckily. She probably wouldn't have made it without her brother. I'm not saying anything. I respect her and everything she's gone through, but her brother really helped out.
Anyways, they're always arguing but it always ends with a hug or a kiss on the cheek. Like right now. I have an older sister, but it's not the same as these guys. They've gone through hell and back together.
"I'm gonna head out." I pat Pedri's shoulder on my way out.
"Come on, man." He stops my walk. "I thought we could hang and watch the game together."
"Yeah, well, I'm gross. From training. Plus," He doesn't even let me finish my sentence before cutting me off.
"Then shower here. Come on. Isabel's probably going to make that killer pasta." Isabel. The sound of her name is enough to make me stay. And, that pasta she does, it was to die for. I can eat dinner at home any another day.
I still remember the first time she tried to make them. The three of us were back from training, separately. Pedri invited me over for the night.
When we got home, there was a note left on the kitchen refrigerator saying that their parents were out. I wasn't sure what that meant, but Pedri and Isabel had a pretty good idea. — Over the years I learned that whenever their parents are out it meant they were gone for no less than a week for no valuable reason. Which was pretty recurring. I used to complain about my mom about how she wouldn't let me stay up past ten. Then I met the González's and never complained about my parents once.
Anyway, we didn't really have any money and there wasn't anything in the fridge other than some tomato paste and pasta in a cupboard.
Isabel being the stubborn feminist that she is, wasn't going to accept any of us cooking for her. So, after two long hours of hearing clicks and clacks coming from the kitchen, Isabel came to the living room with the pasta in her hand.
For just a first time thirteen year old cook, it was pretty good. The rest of my hangs with Pedri at his house, we pretty much ate that pasta.
Isabel would be so mad at me sometimes she wouldn't even let me eat. Pedri and her would fight about it, in the end she'd go to her room and eat alone while Pedri and I would eat in the living room.
"Fine. Whatever." I act casual as if the thought of being in the same house as my best friends sister isn't the only reason I'm staying.