Chapter Five {Part 1}

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Four down, three to go. Lord, please preserve my sanity. Or what little I have left, anyway.

It's not that I don't love Luke and Josiah. It's just that they're so old and... well, intimidating. Their size and tattoos never bothered me much before. But suddenly, Luke's gotten his ears pierced and neither one seems to smile in their photos. It's all "smoldering looks" and flexed muscles.

And don't get me started on the girls they've been hanging out with. I know it's probably for the media, but still. Since when did it become fashionable to wear as little as possible and hide your face under layers of powder? That's not attractive, that's just sad. There's a reason it's called makeup, guys. It's making up a front that's not real when there's nothing prettier than natural beauty.

Maybe one of these days they'll get some sense knocked into their heads. I yawn and shift, trying to straighten out. But it's a little hard to stretch when you're squeezed on a couch with nearly half-a-dozen people. Eli had the "brilliant" idea to watch The Office, so here we are.

"They'll be here in eight minutes," Jackson reports, looking up from his phone. If he has an opinion on how Luke and Josiah have changed, he has yet to show it.

"Shhh!" Eli's eyes are glued to the screen as he fumbles around for the popcorn. Ellie's squeezed in next to him--she's here to welcome Luke and Josiah and give me moral support--equally engrossed in the show. Everyone else is pretty much dozing off.

Jackson glances over at me and makes a face. I smile wryly and shrug. "Should we wait upstairs?" I whisper.

"Shh!" Ellie smacks my arm.

"Let's go," Jackson mouths, and I nod. We slink away from the group and up to the living room.

"How many times have we seen that show?" Jackson flops onto the couch.

"I can't count that high," I yawn and shut my eyes.

"No wonder your math grades are so bad," he jokes.

I crack my eyes open and glare at him. "At least I didn't fail."

"I didn't fail," he replies indignantly.

I sit up, my eyes fully open now. "What are you, a goldfish? You literally failed math in high school."

"I got a D minus, which is very different from failing," Jackson says, lifting his chin.

I narrow my eyes. "You did not get a D minus. You got an F."

"Nope. D."

"You mean D minus?"

He grins. "Yeah, sure."

"Good grief, how am I related to you?" I demand.

"I don't know, Charlie Brown," Jackson teases. "Maybe you were adopted."

"Maybe you were adopted," I retort.

"Oh sure, that makes sense. Let's just conveniently forget that I look exactly like Dad," Jackson scoffs.

"Hey, sometimes you get lucky." I shrug. "It's happened."

"Yeah, I know. Like when we adopted you."

I give up. "When are they getting here?"

"Changing the subject? I accept your surrender." Jackson winks and pulls out his phone. "Any minute now. Want to run some laps around the driveway? We could race."

"So I can beat you again?" I grin. "Why not?"

Jackson furrows his eyebrows. "Win again? What did you win?"

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