"Astrid Jane Parker!" I jumped out of my skin and tore myself off the door. In an instant, a furious and shirtless Aiden rolled out. My eyes widened at his appearance, and even though I was six feet deep in trouble, I couldn't hold back my laugh and proud smirk. I was about to dash into my room when another door banged open and out came a clueless Asher, shirtless.
God! I need to teach my brothers to wear shirts.
He spoke gibberish under his breath, scratched his head and yawned.
When he saw the frantic look on my face, gears in his head rotated, and his eyes immediately found Aiden. Then it clicked to him. In an instant, he yanked me inside his room and locked it.
"Asher James Parker, open the door this instant!"
Asher rolled his eyes, and I snickered under my breath.
"And you call me dramatic." I was on the brink of dying with laughter when Asher looked back at me and winked. "I've got your back Astrid-bear."
For an instant, I felt guilty, but the urge to burst into hysterics kept it away.
"Ash, open the damn door!"
"No can do, Aiden-boo!" he replied in a sing-song voice. His eyes brightened at his retort, and he proudly added "Hey! That rhymed! I should totally consider poetry."
The determined look in his eyes made me shudder. My mind automatically opened all painful memory files where I was his model during his painting phase or when I was a critic during his chef period or when I was his 'lead actress' during his acting era or when...
"Don't be dumb, Ash! Do you think Astrid spared you?" Asher's eyebrows furrowed. I panicked but gave him my best puppy dog eyes when he looked at me, to save my sorry ass. He narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to say 'yes' but Aiden knew his twin like the back of his hand. "If you say yes right now, I swear I will disown you as my twin brother! Go and see yourself in the mirror, dumbass!"
Before I could stop, Asher scrambled to the bathroom in a panic.
I. Am. Dead.
5
4
3
2
1
Cue a high pitched girlish shriek.
"Astrid Jane Parker!" I looked back and forth between the bathroom and the room's door.
Aiden will tear my limbs and roast me for dinner.
Asher will strangle and choke me to death.
Oh God! Where do I go?
Next thing I knew, both doors swung open, and two angry people with same the face glared at me. If I weren't feeling like Jerry cornered by two Toms, I would have teased their identical expressions for being creepy.
I panicked. In an instant, I was tackled to the ground like a freaking football. I wanted to laugh at Aiden's pink hair and Asher's hideous haircut, but, I, was too busy laughing my ass off due to an unexpected tickle attack. I rolled on the floor of a pigsty aka Asher's room. The thought of unintentionally coming into contact with any dirty laundry or stale food, made me shiver. So, I kicked them, shrieked and did everything I could, to at least get off the floor. But let me tell you, when these two opposites from the same magnet stick together, I stand no chance.
I discreetly heard approaching footsteps, and this gave me a ray of hope in the midst of this dark episode of my life. My savior entered the room.
Okay, that was dramatic. But come on, being Asher's sidekick has its cons.
"Get off my princess right now or face her father's wrath!"
See, it runs in our blood.
Both my idiots froze as I smirked and thanked my angel of a father mentally. They hopped off me and gave identical innocent smiles to dad. He rolled and narrowed his eyes at them. I could see the corners of his lips twitching as he turned to me.
"That's not a good thing to do to your older brothers, Princess."
"But dad, I just took my revenge. Asher shifted all the furniture of my room in the center, to prank me!" I pouted, and Asher glared at me.
"But I didn't even do anything!" Aiden whined and crossed his arms like the adorable kid he is. Not.
"Oh! Don't even pretend that you didn't help him!"
"I-"
"Kids!" all our attention snapped to dad as he cleared his throat to cover up his flinch due to sudden attention. "Go to your rooms and clean up! Astrid, come with me."
I hopped up and followed dad out after sticking my tongue out at my glaring brothers. Dad turned around and chuckled.
"That was one hell of a prank! You did great, partner!" he high-fived me as I smirked.
"You helped her?!" my brothers screamed in unison.
Talk about being creepy.
They both half limped, half ran out of Asher's room and looked at Dad with disbelief. Dad scratched his head adorably.
"Oops?"
Parker household, everyone!
~~~
"Aw. Come on, Aiden-boo! Let me go?"
"No." He glared at me through the mirror as he tried to cover his pink hair with a beanie. "And stop calling me boo."
I pouted and gave my magical Bambi eyes.
"Please, Aiden! You're the best brother in the world!"
"I heard that!" Asher hollered from his room, and I rolled my eyes. He has got one hell of an ear pair.
"Aiden?" I whined.
"No."
"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"
"No."
"But why?"
Aiden sighed and sat next to me on the bed. I shuffled to face him as Asher casually strolled in his room. His newly, professionally cut hair was hidden by a custom 'A-team' snapback that he got for three of us as all our names start with 'A.'
"Squirt, why don't you understand? You can't come to party with us. Firstly, you are too innocent for it."
I am the definition of mischief.
"Secondly, there are too many jerks just waiting for their chance to hit on yoy," Asher retorted.
I snorted.
"We just don't want you in any danger, Astrid."
Same time, the same retort.
"That's the third in a day! Stop creeping me out!"
I didn't even bother arguing anymore. I knew that it's no point fighting over a stupid party when I know that the answer will remain the same. Most to most they will cancel their plans, stay home and watch a movie with me. But I didn't want to spoil their plan when they are screwing up their life for me.
Yeah, according to Tweedledum and Tweedledee, I am greatly prone to danger (I seriously doubt it). So they have made it their sole purpose in life to protect me from literally non-existent threats. They are not your average overprotective big brothers; they take overprotectiveness to a whole new level.
I know big brothers are supposed to be overprotective, but as far as I know, they are supposed to be rude and annoying too. Ash and Aid are nothing like that, and I don't know if it is a good thing or not.
But I won't deny that I get attention. A lot of attention.
And when I say attention, I mean glares from girls and cheap looks from boys. I wonder what is it about Aiden's too-big-for-Astrid shirts, frizzy braids that Asher does, and straight from bed face, that gets me this attention.
The only thing someone can adore about me is maybe my eyes. I have never seen a similar pair of eyes in my whole life.
I have black pupil surrounded by a lightest blue that blends into deep blue at the radius. Confusing? I know.
So, my obvious first guess was that people are charmed by my eyes. But years of thinking helped me get the right conclusion- my brothers.
They are freaking gorgeous with a capital 'g'. I would've said hot but calling your brothers hot seems so gross! Ew. My brothers are more or less the next Calvin Klein models with black hair, sharper than a knife jaw line, high cheekbones, and big brown eyes with impossibly long lashes. Aiden even has brown highlights that distinguish him from apparently the ugly Asher (No, he won't ever believe that they look the same).
Girls swoon, and boys glare when they enter the doors. They are supposed to be the bad boys of our high school and all this because of their looks and social impairment. Both of them ignore it like thin air but I can't. I still cringe inside because of the attention.
We are the so called trinity of Eastwood High when in reality, we are three musketeers.
My brothers are my life.
We are in the same grade, even though they are a year older than me (they had to repeat a grade because we shifted here from LA and they missed out on majority of that year because of everything). They can but they would never ditch me for the whole world. They may be overprotective, but I mean more than an annoying little sister to them. We three are best friends, partners in crime, and each other's true love. We fight with each other a lot, but, we fight for each other too. I am myself with them because they never judge or let anyone judge me.
I enjoy their contrasting personalities. I love study sessions with Aiden and pranks with Asher. I don't even want to imagine my life without their presence.
I agree that sometimes it gets suffocating to have two big brothers breathing down my neck as they still think that I am the thirteen-year-old who got punched by Rachael Anderson for not putting good words about her to my brothers (they made me take karate after that and of course they learned it with me). It's like they fear a scratch on me more than their lives, and I love yet hate this feeling.
I am supposed to be the third musketeer, but most of the time, I am a damsel in non-existent distress, and my brothers are my knights in shining armor.
I love them, and I don't need anything else as long as I have them.
*Applause* Sniff, sniff.
Apparently, I trust you Mr/Ms reader because let's face it; this was one hell of a rant.
So, even after this amazing mental ramble about my boys, I couldn't convince myself to stay at home. It's not even two hours of being home alone, and I am already missing them. Most of the time, Dad gives me company, but today, he is giving his company to his company employees.
I switched off the reruns of Teen Wolf and tossed the remote on the couch with an irritated groan. Deciding to go for a walk, I ran upstairs and threw one of Aiden's favorite band shirts, my old sweatpants and shoes on. I know, I can wear my clothes but as creepy as it sounds, I love Aiden's natural scent around me. It makes me feel safe and protected. I can also wear Asher's clothes but let's just say that the boy sweats like a pig.
Locking the main door, I plugged my headphones in and blasted Maroon 5. My head bobbed up and down to the beat as my feet jogged at their natural pace.
Big mistake.
I've never been out alone at night, especially walking. In less than ten minutes, I was lost in the alleys of Boston, and before I knew it, I was pressed against a wall with a hand on my mouth and a gun on my forehead.