Isabella Parker was moved away from her six brothers and friends at the age of 8 following her parents divorce, with the hopes of starting a new life with her Dad in New York.
Now, six years later, young Izzy is 14 and forced to move back home as he...
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
School's over as I wait with Caleb and Liam for our eldest brother to arrive, acting as our only ride home whilst Ezra is at practice.
Apparently Liam's grounded for a week after my parents found out he's broken his phone for the fourth time. As it's one of Liam's favourite things, he's also banned from driving.
My parents believe he can't handle the responsibility of keeping a car in tact if he can't even look after a six inch object. I have to agree.
In the meantime, Logan offered to pick us up from school. Much to our dismay, he's late.
We've been waiting here for half an hour without a message, basically forcing us to succumb to the boredom.
It was Caleb's idea to play catch, we've been aimlessly throwing my apple around as the minutes stretch by slowly.
Liam's refusing to join our game. He hasn't moved an inch from the wall where he leans, his head down as he scrolls on his new phone. We haven't heard much from him either, part of me's worried he still hates me after our argument last week.
I wouldn't be surprised, that boy can hold a fucking grudge.
"I'm gonna kill Logan when he gets here." Caleb says in annoyance, his hazel eyes rolling. I nod in agreement.
"How hard is it to be on time? A couple minutes I'd accept but this is ridiculous." I huff, slightly wobbling on my feet after making a sudden move to catch the apple. So far we haven't dropped it.
Liam ignores us.
A few more moments pass, a comfortable silence encapsulating the three of us. I roll my eyes at the thought of my older brother being late, he's always appointed himself to scream at anyone for being just a few minutes late. Hypocrite.
Suddenly my name is called, I jump and miss the apple.
A pit of dread grows in my stomach as turn to find the source of the voice. A familiar red head etched his way towards us, his posture confident and proud as he casually saunters closer.
Just Jonathon's demeanour alone sends into a frenzy of nerves, the worst kind of nerves.
Opposed to butterfly's, I feel as though my stomachs stuffed with dozens of tiny worms scratching their way out desperate to leave before he reaches us.
His subtle smirk, his taunting eyes, his lean frame. He's the perfect abuser, hidden and seemingly normal to someone who doesn't know him.
"What's up Iz? Why're you here so late?" He says out just before reaching us. I force myself to respond, wanting nothing more than to stay silent and turn away.
From the corner of my eye I notice Liam push himself of the wall, making no move to get closer to us just yet.
"Our brother's late to pick us up." I answer shortly, standing up off the ground to match his level.
