Unleashing Chaos

Chapter Seven

"Luke, I am your father," Cannon drones in an exaggeratedly deep voice with his fist over his mouth.

Jace turns in his seat and his fork clatters to the countertop, holding his hand out toward Cannon's throat. "Force choke! Bro, did you know that's not actually the line?"

Cannon freezes except for his jaw dropping. "What? You're lying."

My eyes bounce back and forth between the two of them, wondering who the hell Luke is and why the hell his father is so important.

Jace drops his arm and goes back to stabbing his chicken parmesan, shoveling it in his mouth. "Yeah, it's like, the most misquoted line ever. It's actually, 'No, I am your father.' Isn't that crazy?"

Cannon shakes his head. "I am shook. I feel like my whole life is a lie."

"I know. I felt the same way when I found out."

"I feel like I need to..." Cannon jumps off his stool and grabs the baguette from the basket in the middle of the island. "Challenge you to a duel." He makes a strange noise with his mouth and holds the piece of bread in front of him like a sword and I lean back in my seat, my eyes wide.

"What the—" I start, but of course, no one is paying attention.

Jace snatches the spaghetti ladle from the pot on the stove and echoes the noise Cannon made, and they begin some sort of deranged sword fight, bouncing around the kitchen and living room.

Cannon finally stabs Jace in the abdomen with the baguette and Jace falls backward onto the couch, writhing in imaginary pain.

"Star Wars Night!" Cannon chants, holding the bread in the air and pumping his fists.

Jace bounds off the couch and mimics his movements with the ladle. "Star Wars Night! Star Wars Night!"

What in the hell is going on? What has happened to my roommates that five minutes ago were grown-ass men? They must have gotten some new video game they plan on playing tonight, and once again, I'll be left out. They're always doing something the two of them are experts on, whether it be a video game, computer program, sports event...and I am just left to go to my room and read or watch chick flicks and reruns on cable. I'm starting to get pretty lonely, and I'm tired of playing third wheel.

I get up from the barstool and rinse my plate, placing it in the dishwasher. Wiping down the countertop where I had been sitting, I push my stool underneath the island. "Okay, clearly I'm out of the loop. Again. See you guys in the morning," I mutter, and I'm pretty sure neither of them hears me or even notices as I head up the stairs to my room.

I grab the spicy novel that is the newest craze from my dresser and fall back on my bed. Staring at the cover, I sigh. Stories like the one in my hand have to be inspired by some real-life event. And if that's the case, why is it so easy for the main character to find her perfect match? Neighbors, childhood friends, even enemies can be "the one." But I can't so much as go on two dates with the same person. The women in these pages have everything I want. Hell, I'm even living vicariously through them in order to have a sex life. They have the perfect person, and I have their erotic love scenes and a drawer with three battery-operated friends. Pathetic.

I crack the book open, dreading to return to the steamy moment with the characters that led to last night's solo moment of pleasure. Marco is about to get his second wind when a light tap comes from my open door. I look over the top of the book to find Jace leaning against the door frame with his hand in his pocket.

"It's Star Wars night. What are you doing?" he asks.

I lay my book face down on my chest and intertwine my fingers on top of it. "Reading. Why would I want to sit and watch you guys play yet another video game I know nothing about?"