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I frowned. “Your brother happened. I can’t believe the two of you came from the same womb. Are you sure you’re biologically related? Maybe your mother had an illicit affair she never told you about,” I said as I headed toward my locker. If I wanted to make it to Spanish on time, I’d better hurry.
“Uh, not likely,” Ethan called after me, and I knew it was true. Mr. and Mrs. Brooks were nothing short of the perfect couple. They were attached at the hip, real-life examples that true love existed, unlike my own parents.
“Why did you have to be born a year younger? It would be so much easier if you were the older one, then it would be you that I shared classes with, not the animal you call a brother.” I stopped at my locker and hurriedly turned the combination lock, then popped it open.
Ethan leaned against the locker next to mine, his sandy-colored hair flopping in his eyes. If he weren’t like a brother to me, he’d be kinda cute. “Uh, do I really need to explain how conception works?” he said.
I couldn’t help but grin.
“So, let me get this straight, Carson did that to you? For real?”
I grabbed my Spanish textbook and slammed my locker door, then headed down the hall again. “Yep.”
“Maybe you should go see the nurse.”
I stopped, and we nearly collided again. Ethan only had a handful of inches on me, unlike Carson, who was over a foot taller. My hand shot out before we could clash skulls. A headbutt to the face was all I needed.
A freshman behind us muttered something unfriendly as she went around us. Ignoring her, I eyed Ethan warily. “Why would I go to the nurse?” I mean, it hurt, but how bad could it be?
Ethan winced as he spun me around, toward the glass pane of a classroom door. It took a moment for me to realize what he was doing until my eyes focused on my reflection. With a yelp, I jumped at my shadowy image, then crept closer.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I hissed.
My heart banged in my chest as I took in the damage. My right eye had swollen half shut, and even from the blurry image of myself in the glass, I could tell it was bruised. How on earth am I going to fix this?
“Great. Just great,” I said, hearing the emotion in my voice.
I was going to lose it for the second time that morning. I was two seconds away from having an emotional breakdown. “Now I’ll never find a date to the Snowflake Ball.” Tears of frustration stung the back of my eyes, but I refused to let my emotions get the best of me.
I inhaled a shaky breath and rolled my shoulders back.
I have this under control. I’ve totally got this. It was nothing a little ice and concealer—okay, a LOT of concealer—couldn’t fix. It’s not the end of the world.
“Let’s take a moment,” Ethan said, sensing my rising hysteria.
He grabbed me by the shoulders and steered me back toward the lockers.
“But Spanish. . .” I mumbled half-heartedly.
Ethan raised a brow. “I’m pretty sure once your teacher sees your face, you’ll be excused for being a couple minutes late.”
I nodded. That thought shouldn’t comfort me, but it did.
“Why don’t you start by filling me in on exactly what happened. Then, when you’re done, I’ll punch my brother square in the face. Deal?”
A small spurt of laughter escaped my lips before it faded, and I began to fill Ethan in on what happened at gym class and my ensuing punishment from Mrs. Parks.
“You really tried to strangle Carson?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It was pretty bad now that I think about it.”
Ethan laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “That’s classic. Totally savage. Man, I wish I could’ve been there to see his face.”
“Yeah, well. Thanks to my little retaliation, I’m stuck working with him for the next three weeks. Talk about punishment. So, not only do I have to deal with being dateless, silence on my college applications, my parent’s escalating fights, and having to spend my spare time with the enemy, but I get to do it all looking like a cyclops.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.” Ethan pressed his lips in a tight line as his gaze lingered over my right eye. “Okay, maybe it is that bad, but it’ll get better in a couple days.”
