Playing His Game

Chapter Thirty-Three | Mean Disposition

Thirty-Three:

"Ugh, it's been an exhausting week."
Lauren's voice rang loudly throughout her house as we collapsed through her doorway, schoolbags in tow.

The house was quiet as we entered. That, combined with the missing cars from the driveway, let me know we were the only ones there.

I found myself smiling in amusement at Lauren's antics. "Are you forgetting it's only Wednesday?"

She let out a groan as we crossed through the living room and into the kitchen. "Exactly! We're only halfway through the week and I feel like winter break never even happened."

"I wish," I muttered, slinging my bag onto the counter.

Lauren gave me a warning glare over her shoulder before opening the snack cabinet. "Don't you dare get all mopey. Here, have some chips." She tossed me a mini bag of Doritos, the sight immediately lifting my mood.

I pried the bag apart with my fingers, racing to open it as quick as I could. "I'm not mopey! Just a little...bitter." I was a lot more than bitter, but I knew Lauren had just about enough hearing about my problems, especially ones concerning her brother.

I settled into one of the bar stools with my bag of chips, biting off the end of one while Lauren still struggled with choosing the kind she wanted. She seemed to finally make up her mind, traveling across the kitchen to me with a bag of Cheetos in hand.

"Okay," she announced, climbing into the stool on my right. "I should get started on all this homework before I'm buried alive."

"Right," I nodded. I reached into my bag for my overstuffed calculus notebook, knowing that I, too, had a lot to do .

The next hour and a half consisted of me attempting to sort through my math problems, only to be constantly interrupted by Lauren.

"What now?" I asked in exasperation when she whined my name for the tenth time.

"Hey," she glowered at me. "Don't get mad. You're the one that's good at math. I need your help!"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. But after this problem I'd like to at least do a few of my own."

Lauren smiled sweetly, popping the last Cheeto she had into her mouth. "Of course."

I looked over the complicated set of numbers waiting to be sorted and graphed, heaving a sigh. "You need a graphing calculator to do this. You have one?"

She looked up in thought, her eyes flashing with realization. "Yeah, it's upstairs on my desk...will you go get it?"

The pleading tone she took on towards the end had me letting out a groan of despair. "Seriously? Fine, but I better have a Dr. Pepper waiting for me when I get back down here!"

She grinned in victory, her voice keeping the same saccharine tone. "Did I mention you're the best friend in the whole world?" She hopped out of the stool, skirting around the counter to get to the fridge. "I'll even get your soda right now!"

I narrowed my eyes as I rose to my feet, leaving her with a warning that was only halfway joking. "You better."

I started the deceptively tiring trek down the hall and up the stairs, my hand sliding along the metal rail with every step I took.

Lauren's room was at the very end of the hall to the left, directly across from the guest room that, once upon a time, Tyler used to stay in.

I pushed the white door open, the sight of Lauren's room never failing to amuse me. With vibrant purple walls and mounds of pink pillows and blankets, it was much more...girly than one would expect from Lauren.