I hate maths. Really. Why would anyone want to spend their time with a calculator in hand trying to find weird letters for no reason? History however.
Best. Subject. Ever.
Not only because my teacher is probably the sweetest human alive and can actually teach, but because I love how history holds so much power over us without us even realizing. Like, what would have happened if there wasn't the World War 2? Would I be here today?
Honestly, all this rambling about subjects is just a way to distract myself from having to do another twelve exercises of something I don't know anything about. Sometimes I just want to burn all this shit, turn around and never look back. But then I remember I actually need grades to have a life. Because if I don't end up with straight A's this semester then I won't end up in Princeton and I'll probably cry everyday with no money, no house and a stray cat.
Ooookay, I'm spiriling.
"Bree!" I hear my brother yell from his room and I instantly roll my eyes.
I get out of my neat room, organizing my papers in a pile before I leave. I walk through the hall leading to my brother's room, facing old family pictures. The one that always warms my heart stands right next to my brother's door.
It was when me and my family visited NYC mid winter, always curious about the way snowflakes would taste on our tongues. My parents kept insisting on getting a picture of me and my brother before the trip ended, so on the last day, there we were, him slighly taller than me due to our age gap. I was only 6, already babbling nonsense, and my 8 year old brother never really cared to listen. We stayed put for the picture, but right when the camera flashed, my brother pushed me into a pile of snow.
So there it is. A picture of me eating snow while my brother stands in victory. Funny how things never change.
I open his door with the permanent annoyed look on my face I wear with him.
"Yes?" To contrast my room and personality, Eric's room is messy, with clothes thrown on the floor and on top of his bed. He's laying next to them, with his PlayStation in hand, muttering something to the microphone before sliding his headphones to his neck and looking at me.
"I'm going to invite some friends over tonight. Do you wanna bring your friends too? I was thinking like a big hangout would be fun." I roll my eyes again, because seriously? Can't he see I'm busy?
"As much as I'd love to spend some time with all your airheaded friends, I actually have an exam to study for, because I actually have goals." I give him the fakest smile I could make, to which he responds with a scoff.
"C'mon Bree, don't be a buzzkill. You've been studying for that exam for two weeks, I'm sure you know everything by now." As I'm about to interrupt he continues. "Plus, one night won't kill you."
"My friends don't even like your friends. Or you." I say to which he just smirks.
Well, most of my friends do like him. When your brother is the captain of the hockey team and has perfected his flirting technique, it's hard for your friends to not fall head over heels. The only person who can see behind his facade and realize he's actually kind of a jerk is my best friend, Riley.
"Don't be such a nerd, alright? Dad and mom are out of town for the night and we should enjoy it." I sigh, feeling my irritation build in my stomach. "Who knows? You might actually have some fun."
Before I could throw a fucking book at his face and tell him to fuck off, he's already sliding his headphones back on and talking to his friends.
Fucking dick.
