For A Reason {Mark Sloan} - COMPLETED -

seventeen::

"No way we're having the funeral back home," I said.

"Why not?" Jack asked, "Grandpa was born in Minnesota and he lived there practically all his life."

I looked over at my grandma who was sitting there, not sure what to think of all this.

"Brandy he's right," Cristal agreed, "We're not gonna make all the family fly out here."

"You know it'll give you an excuse to come back to Minnesota," Jack said.

I shook my head, "Why can't we have it here?"

"Look not everything's about you Brandy," My mom said.

"I never said that," I scoffed, "Grandpa loved it here. He moved from Minnesota to here for a reason. Seattle was grandpa's happy place. He always dreamed of living here. He loved it here. He would want to be buried here. I know it's a burden for everyone to have to come here, but this funeral is a celebration of grandpa's life. And I know I would go anywhere for grandpa and I'm sure all of you would too."

"Any objections to Seattle?" Jack asked.

The five of us were silent.

"Seattle it is," Jack said.

"I think I'm gonna head to bed," I said, standing up, "It's been a long day. Night."

I went downstairs and got ready for bed. I had been thinking a lot about what Cristal had said earlier in the car. Why did she think I liked him? I did get a little nervous when she mentioned him. But it was only because of what happened last night. I don't like him. That's silly. Super Silly, right?

"Oh shit," I said.

You know what, I do not like Mark Sloan.

"I do not like Mark Sloan," I sighed.

"Did you say something?"

I screamed.

"God, what the fuck, chill out," Ian said.

"Ugh sorry, I didn't realize you were in here," I said.

"No it's fine," he said, "Sorry, I've been sleeping on your couch. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, it's fine," I shook my head, "As long as you don't snore like Dad and Jack."

"No," he laughed, "At least I don't think so."

"Good," I said, hopping onto the bed.

"So what we're you saying about this Mark?" Ian asked.

"Nothing, okay? Let's just drop it."

"Whatever," he shrugged.

"I'm bored," I sighed.

"Me too," Ian said, "Do you wanna sneak out?"

"Ian, I'm 26 years old, I don't have to sneak out anymore."

"Oh right," he said.

"But that does sound super fun," I smiled, "Grab your jacket."

"Fuck yes!" Ian said, grabbing his jacket.