My Brother's Best Friend

Chap. 7

Important Author's Note at the end. Please read!

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"How many pancakes would you like?" Mrs. Grant asked.

"One is perfect," I said, taking a seat.

She slid me a pancake and I reached over across Michelle and stole the syrup.

"Did you girls have fun last night?" Mrs. Grant asked.

"As much fun as you can at a soccer game," Michelle answered, taking a bite of her pancake.

"Were there any cute boys?" she asked.

"It was a boys soccer game," Michelle said, with a laugh. "We managed to find two."

Mrs. Grant laughed, taking her coffee and leaving the kitchen.

"So are you still a member of Gold's Gym?" I asked Michelle, as we munched on our pancakes.

She gave me a look out of the corner of her eye.

"Do not look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm broken."

"I don't think you're broken."

I took another bite of my pancake, the silence stretching between us.

"And to answer your question, yes I'm still a member at Gold's," Michelle said, looking over at me. "Why?"

"Because I was thinking about rejoining." I took another bite of my pancake. "I'm supposed to keep active, it's healthy."

"I don't disagree," Michelle said, fully turning to face me. "But as your best friend, it's my duty to be honest with you."

I knew this was coming. And I knew she'd be a lot easier to deal with than Emmett.

"Hit me."

"You just got back a week ago," she reminded me. "Instead of starting with a gym membership, you should start with something smaller."

That was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

I nodded, absorbing her advice. "Like what?"

"Instead of joining the gym, why don't you come as my guest a couple of times a week to start off with?"

"Well you're my best friend, and I trust you. So if you think that's a good idea, then I'm game."

She sipped her orange juice, smiling at me. "Now you have to tell Emmett."

~*~

"What kind of dressing is that?" Emmett asked, reaching over and taking a bite of my salad.

"Hush," Ms. Calvary ordered, glaring at the two of us.

"It's Italian," I informed him, taking a bite of my own salad.

"There is no talking in lunch detention," she informed us.

Emmett rolled his eyes.

We sat in silence for about a minute.

"It was so peaceful in the apartment this morning," Emmett informed me.

"Why's that?" I asked, with a laugh.

"Because there wasn't any arguing."

Well that wasn't going to be a problem. I didn't plan on talking to Parker Adams for the rest of my life.