1. Mitchell has two brothers




"Mitchell! We're going to be late!" My father yelled up the stairs, probably nowhere near ready himself, but making himself feel better. If I wasn't in the car first I'd be the reason we were late.

I finished brushing my teeth, making sure that my hair wasn't a complete mess, and obediently trotted down the stairs to the mudroom, where my dad was only just tying his shoes, and both Luke and Jamie were putting on their coats.

Squeezing between the two of them I put my coat on and slipped into a pair of Vans, but I was still the last one out of the house. As the youngest, I'm relegated to the backseat. Before I even put on my seatbelt my dad started telling me that we had to be there early and I wasn't helping.

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window, but somehow my mouth didn't obey me—like it ever does— "Well, maybe it would have helped if Jamie didn't have to get sentenced in the first place."

Jamie gave me the finger from the front, Luke punched me in the arm, hard, and dad's knuckles went white on the steering wheel and told me "I'm sorry to hear you feel that way."

Rolling my eyes again, I watched the snow out the window, filtering out Jamie telling dad it wasn't his fault, really, for what had to be the hundred and seventh time since he'd actually gotten arrested. To me, though, any moron who makes death threats to a cop's daughter deserves to get arrested at the very least.

"God, will you shut up Jamie," Luke said, finally, after about fifteen minutes—which was the time it took to get from our house to find a parking spot in front of the courthouse. Which actually wasn't the courthouse, but the administration of justice.

"Screw you, Luke," Jamie said, twisting around in his seat to spit it straight at him.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Real mature, jailbird."

"Boys." Dad broke in, signaling a left turn. "Act like adults in there, would you?"

"Yeah," I smirked, "seeing as they've tried you as one."

"Fuck you!" Jamie snarled, and dad smacked him across the head. "James, I will not tolerate that kind of language."

Jamie shook his head, pissed off, and bared his teeth at me. I batted my eyelashes and blew him a kiss.

Pulling into a parking spot, Dad turned off the car. "Do I have to remind you three to act like adults?"

"Nope," I said, Luke echoing and Jamie having to get the last word, "why bother telling Mitch, he's only a kid anyway."

I made a face and flipped him the finger, before carefully opening the door so I didn't hit the car next to ours. "Could we have parked any closer?"

Dad turned around from where he was walking away to look. "Possibly."

I shook my head, stuck my hands in my pockets, and followed dad and Luke in, Jamie trailing somewhere behind. Three sets of stairs and two doors marked 'no public access' and we were squished together on a tiny little bench in the waiting room. Jamie'd gone to sign in, or whatever it was that he'd decided he needed to do when he checked out the secretary behind the desk.

Luke was watching Jamie flirt intently, probably taking notes. Dad was sitting quietly, probably considering telling Jamie to get his ass back over here.

Me, I was wondering how easy it would be to get one of the 'quiet while court is in session' off the wall. Then again, seeing as this was a courthouse, it might not be such a good idea.

Bored of that, I shifted several times, trying to get a comfortable stop. I was watching the pay phone directly across from where I was sitting, seeing the minutes tick by.

Then Jamie grabbed my hands and told me "stop cracking your fingers."

"Sorry, Jamie," I apologized, surprising both him and myself.

So then I made up for it, "you stupid wank."

Jamie smacked me across the back of the head, and everything was back to normal.

Or, at least, as normal as we ever got.