"You can try all you want," I said lazily, flipping through a magazine. "but I refuse to clean your room for a cookie."

"How about a box of cookies." She tried.

"Nope." I popped, unwrapping a piece of gum.

"Lemme get this straight." She mused. "You'll sell your soul for mountain dew, for gum you'll give out test answers, and I don't even want to know what you'd do for a pencil with an eraser. But when your little sister, your own flesh and blood, who would lay down her life for you; offers cookies in exchange for cleaning her room, you turn her down."

I sat up, clapping quietly. "Nice theatrics Lara, but no. mom told us both to clean our rooms. If in twenty minutes my pigsty is clean and yours isn't then there's a problem."

"You're so mean!" she stamped her foot. "Why not?"

"Firstly, I hate cleaning. And secondly, I live here too, if I wanted cookies I'd walk into the kitchen and eat some." I explained. "Now leave me peasant, you bore me." I made shooing motions with my hands.

"I hate you Tori! You're mean!" she yelled, walking from my room.

"Tell me something I don't know." I hollered after her. Less then thirty seconds later she was back standing in my doorway.

"When mom comes home you're in big trouble cause she read a pink notebook." She sneered. I closed my eyes, feeling the colour draining from my face. That notebook was still in its hiding place, or so I thought, I checked my hiding place, and seeing it empty, realized I must've left it in the car.

"Lara, disappear." I muttered, trying to calm my shaky hands, few people knew what that notebook contained, and my mom was on the list of who never gets to view it. If mom really read it, I was screwed on about a million different levels. I jolted from my stupor when the front door slammed shut.

"Victoria Lynn Jacobs! Get out here now!" Walking into the living room the distance seemed like a million miles instead of thirteen steps.

"Het mom." I greeted weakly.

"Sit."

"Mom, let me explain…"I started as I sat.

"Tori, tell me right now why you're writing yaoi?" she asked, her tone oddly softening. I sat there staring at her blankly. "I'm so proud of you!" she cried. "Finally you and I share an interest! So, what is your OTP?"

"Huh?" was all I managed before fainting. Of all the ways I thought this would turn out, this wasn't one of them. I expected yelling, screaming, fighting, even threats; but no mom was okay with me being a yaoi fangirl? That was way too much. I knew now that she knew we shared an interest there'd be no living with her.