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“What the hell!”I yell, rolling over on my back, and lurching straight up in bed with loud bagging assaulting my ear drums.
“Wake up, sleepy head! Wake up!” Axel screams at the top of his lungs, banging his hand against a pot.
“Axel, stop it!!” I yell over his nonstop stream of noise. I snatch the pot out of his hands and flop back on the bed. “Go get dressed. I’ll make breakfast.”
“You’re late. I’m already dressed, Lex. You need to get your ass up.”
“Axel, watch your mouth,” I growl. Clutching the offending pot I jump out of bed and get a good look at him. “Shit—you better not repeat that,” I say, heading to the bathroom with him behind me. “Go change your shoes. You can’t wear those today, you have gym today.”
“All right, but I’m wearing them tomorrow.”
“Fine, your choice.” I put the pot on the closed toilet seat and turn on the faucet. “Are your brothers up?” I bend over the sink, splash some cold water over my closed eyelids and wash my face with my foaming soap wash.
“Yeah. They’re downstairs playingCall of Duty.”
What the fuck. I forget about the soap on my face and open my eyes to scream downstairs at those assholes and remember too late as my eyes burn and sting. “Axel,” I growl trying to wash the soap out. “Go—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m going, sneakers.”
“Thank you.” This does not bode well for the rest of the day if this is how it starts. Late and two eyes full of burning soap. I grab a towel off the rack and dry my face. I squeeze an excessive amount of toothpaste on my brush, brush my teeth, grab my hairbrush, and put my hair up into a high ponytail. Spin around, pull down my underwear, and plop down on the toilet
“Damn it!”
Nothing confirms it’s going to be one of those days, like sticking your ass in a cold metal pot to take a piss. I shake my head and knock it on the floor, raise the seat, and take the piss with a relieved sigh. The best thing that’s happened to me since I was ripped out of my sleep. Sometimes it’s the joys of the littlest things that keep me sane. Look on the bright side…no piss running down my leg.
After rushing to my room, pulling a pair of jeans on, shoving my feet in a pair of sneakers, and throwing on a purple t-shirt, I rush downstairs to make breakfast. I walk past the living room glad to see it’s empty, walk into the kitchen, and pull up short when I see Drew behind the stove, Ryan eating a waffle, and Axel with an almost empty plate of eggs and toast.
“Waiting…what’s going on here? Am I sleepwalking and dreaming?”
“No dream,” Drew says, taking a big bite of toast with an egg on it. “I made Axel breakfast.”
“Wow. I didn’t have to ask you to do it. What’s going on, what did you do?” I look around the room for something—anything out of place.
“Just say thank you,” he says, looking my way. “It’s a peace offering.”
“Thank you.” I walk up beside him and give him a one-arm hug. “This mean we’re good?”
“For now.”
“I’ll take that.” I smile, bumping his hip with mine and he bumps me back. Anything’s better than getting into yet another argument with him. Besides, I felt bad for the one last night, seeing as he made some good points. I’m skating too close to shit you shouldn’t do that will get you locked up and have your siblings ripped away from you and put into foster care.
“We’re late, let’s go,” I say. They all get up and I grab my keys while they grab bags, and head to the car.
“Shotgun.” Axel runs in front of Drew before he touches the door.
“Nice try.” He smiles, grabs the back of his jacket, and ushers him into the back seat next to Ryan.
“Not fair!” Axel pouts.
“When your feet can touch the floor you’ll be up here. Now buckle up in your booster seat.”
I try not to smile. I start the car and drive. “We’re all going to see Grandpa this weekend. No ifs and or buts. Drew, Ryan—it’s been a while. Almost a month is too long. We gotta do better. At least one of us a week. I missed his call last night. He sounded like he missed seeing us.”
“I doubt it,” Ryan says. “We went to see him once and it was like seniors gone wild in there. Gramps was in the thick of it, the time of his life. I was proud.”
“Grandpa parties? I thought he had no hips?” Axel says.
