"Anna! Anna, please?"

Yep. That was my stupid brother banging on my door at 7:00 on a Saturday morning.

Wanting to use my bathroom.

Even though he had a perfectly good one in his room.

"Just use yours Matt! What, has it been declared it too toxic or something?" I sighed. Definitely not my best insult. But hey, at 7:00 on a Saturday morning, it was the best I had.

"No, but I said that Beau could use mine, and I really need a shower! Pleeeeeeeaassee?"

I groaned. Great. Not only was my brother cutting into valuable sleep time, but his jackass friend was also here. This was not going to be a good day.

"Well, if you need a shower that badly, why did you tell him he could use it in the first place?!"
Even though there was a door between us, I could tell that he had a sheepish grin on his face. "Well, I figured that you'd be more...willing to let me use your bathroom, as opposed to Beau."
I sighed. Couldn't argue with that. "Fine," I muttered, as I rolled out of bed, and unlocked the door. In case you're wondering, these...situations are exactly the reason I lock my door at night. "But if you make a mess, so help me, I'll..."
"Thanks sis! I owe you one," he exclaimed happily, pulling me into a giant bear hug.

"Uh...Matt? Kinda hard to breathe with you...CRUSHING MY LUNGS!" I yelled, half heartedly. I couldn't stay mad at him. Even if he did invite his jackass friend over every other day. And by every other day, I mean every day. Saying every other day just seems to make it a little more bearable.

"Oh. Right." He let me down, flashing me a wide grin. "Really. Thanks."
"Whatever," I said, making my way back to my bed. "Just make it quick."
He picked up his towel, and his change of clothes, which he had conveniently brought with him. Of course, he had known I would give in. I can hardly ever say no to him. And on the occasion that I do refuse, he pouts and sulks like a little girl until eventually I give in. I know, I'm such a sucker.

I turned towards the wall, fully intending to go back to sleep. It was a Saturday, after all.

What I failed to mention about my brother was that he had a habit of singing in the shower. And not just under his breath. If only we were that lucky.

Nope. He practically screamed at the top of his lungs, out of time, out of tune, out of this freakin' world.

Needless to say, I was not getting back to sleep any time soon.

I swore as I rolled out of bed, still wrapped in a blanket, as I hunted around my room for my slippers, and a sweatshirt, so I wouldn't have to shuffle around in a blanket all morning. Upon finding them, I decided that now was as good a time as any for breakfast, so I headed downstairs.

I could still hear Matt singing, all the way down to the kitchen. The boy had a pair of lungs on him, that's for damn sure. I groaned.

Apparently, the singing was contagious, as I sang along to the songs playing on TV while I made my perfect breakfast. Coffee and toast. Mmmm. Nice and easy. And plus. Coffee!! So, despite the unpleasant early morning wake up call, I was in a fairly good mood as I watched children's cartoons and had my breakfast. By this time, it was about 7:30, and my brother still wasn't out of the shower. Not that I was going to get back to sleep anyway.

Unfortunately for me though, his idiot friend was out of the shower. I could hear him banging around in Matt's room, making a mess no doubt. I just hoped that he would stay up there until they were ready to leave.

I heard footsteps on the stairs. My brother was still singing in the shower, and my parents had left for work already.

"God," I said to myself, "Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you? I mean, sure, I don't technically believe in you, but can't you give a girl a break once in a while? This is just too -"
"Much for you to handle?" The voice I always hated hearing cut me off, mid-rant.
"Yeah, Davies. Too much for me to handle. Having wild animals in my house and all," I answered, rolling my eyes.

"What, you're not even going to look at me? Lise, I'm hurt," he said, mock-pouting.

"Why, Davies? To scar myself for life? Not likely." I retorted, as I turned the TV up, in the hopes of drowning out his annoying voice.

Now, you're probably a little confused as to what my name is, what with Matt calling me Anna, and...jackass over there calling me Lise. To clarify, my actual name is Anneliese. Anneliese Joy Wilson. Just in case anybody was getting confused.

Unfortunately for me, Beau Davies didn't seem to understand when he wasn't wanted. He stole the remote off me and turned the TV off.

"I was watching that!" I exclaimed angrily.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise," he said, in a hideous attempt at mock sincerity.

"Just turn it back on."
"Ummm...No." He grinned at me. "You know, Anna, we never have time to really talk. So, I figured that now would be THE perfect time for a chat." He grinned at me again. I swear, if he grinned any wider, his face would burst. He walked around the couch, sat down next to me, and put his arm around me. Of course.

I sighed, and rolled my eyes as I shrugged out from under his arm. "Davies, if I wanted pointless, unintelligent conversation, I'd talk to a rock. Now, get away from me. I might catch something."
"What, you mean like cooties? Anna, you're 16. Isn't that a little too old to be believing in 'boy germs'?" he asked, amusement glinting in his eyes.

"Firstly, you idiot, I didn't mean cooties. And, secondly, even if I did, when you're the topic of conversation, cooties is the least of anybody's worries." I stood up. If he wasn't going to let me watch TV in peace, I might as well do something else. Hell. I'd settle for anything else. Anything at all. He put his feet up on the coffee table, blocking the exit. I rolled my eyes. "Move, Davies."
"I don't think that I will. In fact, I'm quite comfy here." He stretched his legs out further, as if to prove his point.
"Must you always be so difficult?"
"Yep." I rolled my eyes, as he smiled, no, beamed at me. He was enjoying this a little too much.
"I bet your parents are proud."
"Damn right they are."
"Just move your damn legs!" There were no words to describe how annoyed I was at this point in time.

"Oooh," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement, yet again. "Feisty."

I rolled my eyes. "You're such a jackass."

"I love it when you talk like that," he smiled, cat-like, and stood to move towards me.

I realised at that point in time, that I could have avoided this whole situation by just jumping the couch. Stupid early Saturday morning brain.

I made sure that I hit him as I jumped the couch.
"Ow!" he yelled. "You hit hard." He rubbed his head, frowning, while I smiled innocently, thankful for the small victories in life. "Bitch," he muttered, as I walked towards the kitchen with my plate. I grinned.

"Hey, you make really good coffee you know Anna.." I heard Beau say from the other room. I looked back to the table where I had left my precious coffee, and found instead, Beau, with my coffee in his hands, smirking at me over the top of the cup.

"Gimme that!" I yelled, making a grab for the coffee. Luckily it was a thermos cup, with a lid, and didn't spill when he jerked his hand away and held the coffee out of my reach.

"If you want it so bad, why don't you come and get it?" he asked, grinning.

I rolled my eyes. "Or, I could just make another one, seeing as you insist on being an ass, and hogging my coffee," I retorted, already heading back towards the kitchen. He grabbed my wrist.
"No, wait, Anna, I was kidding. You can have your coffee back, I don't even like the stuff."
I raised my eyebrows, because I knew, for a fact, that he was almost as big a caffeine addict as I was. Almost. "Oh really?" I asked, going along with his lie, for god knows what reason. "Then give it back." I reached for it, and again, he held it out of my reach. I sighed. He smiled at me, and then just gave me the cup.

I glanced at him suspiciously, as I placed the coffee on the counter behind me. That was too easy. There was definitely a catch.

"What?" he asked, obviously noticing the suspicion in my eyes.

"That was too easy," I answered. "What's the catch?"
"No catch," he replied. "But then again..." he trailed off as he pulled something from his pocket. "There may not be any messages or calls either." I looked at the small pink object in his hand. It was a phone. MY phone.

"What the hell are you doing with my phone?!" I yelled. "How did you even get it?!"
"I got it while you were down here, making your precious coffee," he smirked. "Like you said, it was too easy." He laughed.

"Give it back Davies." I snarled. "That's my fucking phone, and I want it back. Now."

"If you want it so badly, why don't you come and get it from me?" he teased, placing the phone back into one of his front jeans pocket. He obviously didn't think that I would be game enough to 'retrieve' it from there.

Unfortunately, he didn't factor in all the events of the morning - being woken up at 7 by an annoying brother, finding out his jackass friend is in your house, having your coffee stolen by said jackass friend, not to mention your phone. All these things did not add up to a very happy 16 year old girl. And, as such, when he told me to go over and get my phone from him, I did the only thing that I could think of. I went over there.

Or, rather, I tackled him to the ground in a fit of aggression. Either way, the shock so blatantly displayed on his face was pretty much self explanatory. He did not count on that. Silly boy, dealing with a caffeine-deprived teenage caffeine addict.

Unfortunately, my morning was not destined to get any better. As I was putting my hand down his pocket to retrieve my phone, my brother picked that moment to decide that he was showered and ready for breakfast. Needless to say, the sight of his sister, straddling his best friend on the lounge room floor, with her hand appearing to 'disappear' into his pants (he couldn't actually see where my hand was, due to the angle we were at. Stupid angles.), was not a good sight for him.

"What the HELL is going on here?!" he demanded, practically trembling from the anger I knew was building up inside him.