A Non-Prep’s Complete Guide to Pissing Off a Prep

Over One Shoulder

Strawberries, T-shirts and Late-Night Movies

Age of the Characters — Fourteen

The room was a mess. Food — of both the junk variety and the healthier variety — littered the table; empty bags of potato chips were scattered on the floor. Soda cans were cluttered on the table along with the food, and the TV blared a late-night movie.

And pillows flew at the girl huddled in the armchair.

“Lena! God dammit, Lena, stay awake!”

Lena mumbled incoherently and twisted away from the pillow her friend flung at her. “Oh, shut up, Holly,” she grumbled, forcing herself to keep heavy eyes open.

“You’re missing the movie,” Holly complained, pushing her lips into a pout.

“So?” The word was said on a wide yawn as Lena brought her knees up to her chest, rested her chin on top of them. “It’s your fault, you gave me comfy clothes to sleep in.”

Holly eyed the T-shirt her friend wore dubiously. “It’s just an old T-shirt of Bray’s,” she remarked.

“Yeah, key word old. Old means comfy.” Lena’s eyes were drooping again, but she snuggled deeper into the T-shirt and her own pair of sweats and looked towards the TV. Her eyes were bright blue were Holly’s were dark blue, and blurry with fatigue where Holly’s were still sharp and clear.

Holly only wrinkled her nose. “Please. It probably smells like sweat. He used to wear that shirt after hockey, soccer, whatever he was playing. Betcha it reeks.”

“It’s been washed,” a voice said mildly at the door.

Holly whipped around, shot her brother a huge grin as he came in, wearing a T-shirt similar to the one Holly had snitched from his dresser for Lena and a pair of sleep pants. “Hey, big brother, we were just talking about you.”

Brayden snorted. “Yeah, sure you were.”

“We were,” Lena mumbled sleepily, and Brayden looked over to her. She was half-asleep, he thought with amusement, her eyes soft, her mouth curved up.

“You look tired,” he commented, and Lena gave a slow shrug, watched him pleadingly as her eyes flicked over to Holly.

“I am, but your tyrannical dictator of a sister won’t let me sleep.” She narrowed her eyes in Holly’s direction. Holly only grinned.

“Seriously, Lenny, have you ever managed to stay awake until midnight on New Year’s?”

“Sure I have,” she said, yawning hugely. “But it’s October, so I don’t give a rat’s ass about staying awake.”

“Holly, you should let her sleep,” Brayden reprimanded his sister, frowning in her direction even as he surveyed the destruction in the room. “Use all that energy of yours to clean up in here.

Holly rolled her eyes and answered in a tone of long suffering, “Yes, Mom. God, Lena can handle this — can’t you, Lena?” Her tone was cheerful as she asked the question, as she turned and tossed a pillow from the couch in her friend’s direction.

Lena grunted, batted an ineffectual hand at the energetic black-haired sprite of a girl dancing around the living room with a wide grin and a wicked arm.

Brayden sighed. He’d always been the responsible one, even when they were kids. It was never an occurrence that bothered him; it was simply part of their personalities. And because he tended to want to take care of things — such as the puppy he’d found when he was five, only to have his father decree “no mutts” and take the animal to the shelter — he looked towards his sister and said, “You should—”

“Eat,” Holly finished for him, and bounded across the room to snatch a strawberry from the tray on the table and popped it into her brother’s mouth.

Rolling eyes the colour of milk chocolate, Brayden bit off part off the strawberry, then commented, “And you should shut up,” as he pushed the rest of the strawberry into Holly’s mouth.

Narrowing her eyes, Holly shrugged, then turned and threw another pillow — the last — in Lena’s direction. She was still curled up in the chair, but had her eyes open to watch the latest event between the MacPhee siblings.

Her only response to the final pillow landing squarely on top of her was to lift one hand, middle finger raised.

“Have some pity, Holly Christina,” Brayden taunted, and ignored his sister’s snarl at the use of her middle name. Shaking his head, he crossed the room to Lena, then gathered her up in his arms. She was slim, willowy, so carrying her wasn’t difficult, though she was already a tall girl.

She started slightly, wriggled uselessly in his arms and blinked owlishly up at him. “Don’t.— You don’t need to— Brayden...” She was miserably uncomfortable, but God, so tired, and he was warm enough to curl into and fall asleep with.

Whoa. What? No.

He only smiled down at her. “It’s fine. You’re not exactly heavy, Lenny,” he teased gently as he began to climb the stairs.

She yawned again, considered. Fatigue won over discomfort. “Okay,” she sighed and laid her head on his shoulder and went quietly to sleep.

He shouldered the door to Holly’s mess of a room. The little spare cot was already set up, naturally, what with Lena’s calm efficiency, so he walked in, gently laid her down. She murmured something quietly, her arms tightening around his neck. Brayden tensed, hesitant, wondering what this itchy warmth spreading through him meant.

But then Lena’s arms loosened, and he laid her gently down and eased out of the room.

It wasn’t until he was back in his own room that he realized it was Lena who’d caused that slow, spreading warmth.

He stared up at the ceiling in the dark, and wondered what the hell he was getting himself into.

End of “Strawberries, Pillows and Late-Night Movies”

Finally came up with another one. Based a bit on what Lena and Brayden tell each other in chapter eight of the actual story. Hope you enjoyed it, and review even if you didn’t, okay? Have a strawberry. (wink)
— Murphy