𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍
"I can't believe I'm about to have dinner with the guy that almost beat my ass this morning," Steve grumbles as he runs his hand through his hair for the hundredth time.
I snicker from my spot in front of the mirror. "Almost? He did beat you, bub."
"Oh, shut up," he mutters, clearly not in the mood for my teasing.
"If you're that embarrassed, just pretend to be sick," I say, shrugging as I fluff my hair. "You didn't have a problem pulling that stunt earlier today." My voice is a little sharp, maybe because I'm still annoyed he ditched me after practice.
He sighs dramatically, like everything is about him right now. "Look, I'm sorry I left without telling you, but if you felt as humiliated as I do right now, then you'd understand the meaning behind my actions."
I roll my eyes, tired of his self-pitying. "I think you're just being dramatic," I huff, stepping out of the bathroom, my patience wearing thin. Steve trails after me, determined to keep this conversation going.
"Oh, I'm sorry if I'm upset because I dumped my girlfriend and got knocked down by some gym rat with an awful attitude," he spits, clearly still nursing both his pride and the sting of his breakup.
I can't help but laugh at how ridiculous he's being. "I think you need to just grow up and get over it," I say, flopping down on the couch like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Our mom, Rachel, walks into the room, drying her hands on a dish towel. "Get over what?"
"Nothing," Steve mumbles, trying to brush it off as he hops onto the kitchen island, pouting like a kid.
Rachel's attention shifts to me, her critical eyes scanning my outfit. "Ana darling, couldn't you have worn some nicer clothes?"
I glance down at my oversized white t-shirt and baby pink bed shorts, shrugging. "Please, you're lucky I fixed my hair for this," I scoff, not understanding why we're all putting in so much effort for this forced dinner with the neighbors.
Dad suddenly bursts out of the master bedroom, practically bouncing with excitement. "I can see them walking up!" he whisper-yells, waving Mom over like we're preparing for some royal visit. She rushes to join him, leaving me and Steve shaking our heads at how ridiculous they're being.
"Kids, get over here! You must act—neighborly!" Mom whisper-yells at us, as if that's going to make us behave any differently.
I toss the magazine I've been flipping through onto the coffee table. "Why does it matter? You guys are literally gonna be nice to them for about a week, and then complain about how high their grass is for the rest of your lives." I roll my eyes, fully knowing how predictable they are.
"Anastasia Louise Harrington!" Mom snaps, making me jump to my feet and shuffle toward the door with Steve reluctantly following behind.
The doorbell rings, and Dad swings the door open like it's Christmas morning. "Neil! Nice to see ya, buddy."
I glance over at Billy and Max, noticing how neither of them looks particularly thrilled to be here. My eyes fall on Billy's arm, and sure enough, there's a new bruise—this time on his bicep. I frown, feeling that weird mix of curiosity and concern I always seem to get around him.
"David! Always a pleasure," Neil says, smiling as he shakes hands with my dad. Steve and I share a look of disbelief.
Steve leans in close and whispers, "Is he trying to be Tom Selleck with that chevron 'stache?"
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FanfictionUNDERGOING EDITING! Bro•ken ησυη 1 he's cracked beyond repair. look at the burnt out fire in his eyes, the flames dead, but the smoke is still alive, polluting the air wherever he goes. 2 but just because he's beyond repair doesn't mean he can't att...
