So, without further adieu …
December 31st, 2013 4:01pm
“Stop being a douche, Jackie. This end of the world crap is nothing but a load of … well, crap. Get over it.” I snatched our shared laptop from my little brother and closed the lid, not bothering to check out the site he’d become fixated on during the last hour. Jackie’s conspiracy theories were a constant pain in my ass.
“Give it back, Nixon.” He whined, reaching across my body as I shoved the ancient computer behind my back. “This one’s real. I’m telling you; it’s gonna to happen.”
“Just like you said Rapture was real, right? Or the Mayan prophecy of December twenty-first in two-thousand twelve?” I shoved his thirteen-year-old body away from me. “Guess what, dipshit? Twenty-twelve has come and gone with the world still spinning. Get outta here so I can chat with my girl.”
Jackie stood, brushing invisible dirt of his green plaid shorts. In a few years, he’d either be modeling or coming out of the closet. I swore my brother got all the looks in the family—Mom’s California blonde hair, Dad’s bright blue eyes, and
at least two inches taller than I was.
Me? I inherited Dad’s brown hair that curled if it got too long and Mom’s brown eyes the color of dry dirt. In other words, boring.
“One of these days, you’ll believe me,” Jackie said, his voice deeper than normal. His eyes sparkled like ice held up to a light bulb. “The end is coming. Everything will stop. And there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.”
“Dude, did you forget your Zoloft, or something? What’s with the voice?” I fell onto my twin bed, wishing for the millionth time I had my own room. The computer lay across my
thighs, warming the denim beneath it.
Flipping me the bird, Jackie left the room and slammed our door behind him, rattling the windows from the force. The little shit must’ve started lifting weights. I glanced over to his half of the room but saw no sign that my brother had suddenly decided to add to his martial arts workout. Instead, his side was spotless, with a perfectly made bed, organized desk, laid-out clothes, and his lined-up tae kwon do ribbons. Jackie switched disciplines when he was seven, while I stuck with karate. I would’ve quit, but girls thought it was sexy. Laura included.
My shit was less than perfect. A box shoved into the closet hid my wrinkled karate ribbons. Homework and textbooks littered my desk. Even our matching blue plaid comforters were opposites—mine faded and wrinkled, his smooth and bright like the day Mom bought it.
Shaking my head, I opened the laptop and typed in the password. Laura was far more important than worrying about what was up little bro’s butt. Especially since we had big plans that night. Her parents would be out ringing in twenty-fourteen at some hotel soiree, leaving the house to us. Alone. Six years of crushing on her and six months of dating her were leading to what I hoped would be the best night of my life.
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