When Kylie Johnson's temperamental, ominous, and overprotective older brother continuously ruins her love life, she decides to permanently eliminate the word 'love' from her vocabulary.
But when her ex, Julian Davis, returns to her life with a treme...
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"You're not going and that's final," mom says, casting me a look as she shoves her phone into her handbag.
"But I have to go to school," I whine.
"You haven't completely recovered yet," she reminds me.
"Give her some slack, mom. If she wants to go then let her go," Matt interjects, taking a sip of his latte.
"Thank you," I say to him, confidently crossing my arms over my chest. "Besides, I no longer have a headache and my body isn't weighing so much like before. I'm feeling better and I have to go to my swimming—"
"Swimming?" She widens her eyes, taking her empty cup to the sink. "You can't go swimming just yet."
"But mom!" I groan, throwing my head back.
"But Kylie," she mimics, causing me to roll my eyes.
Marvin and Mario enter the kitchen, simply wearing jeans, their chests naked.
They grab an apple from the fruit bowl and mom narrows her eyes at them. "You're going to be late for school. Hurry!"
"You're not the one taking us to school," Mario mutters, taking a bite of his apple.
Mom grabs a dishcloth and smacks his arm. "Do you want to attend group therapy three times a week, mister?"
Mario chuckles, making his way out of the kitchen with a halfway-eaten apple in his hand.
"Since when do you kids have an attitude?" Mom grumbles, filling a glass with water.
"Since you started acting like a mother hen?" I smile ironically, taking some pills from the cabinet.
"Mother hen?" Matt chuckles, tossing some pancakes into his mouth.
"Are you calling me a chicken?" Mom frowns, handing me the glass of water.
I rise on my tiptoes and peck her cheek. "Yes. You over-preoccupy."
"I don't think that's a word," Marvin says, keeping his gaze at his phone.
"I didn't ask for your opinion."
"Cranky today, aren't we?" He whistles, smirking.
"Not just today," mom corrects. "It's been like this for two days now. And it's giving me a headache."
I roll my eyes and drown the pills with water.
"I'll let you go to school," mom sighs, receiving the glass from me. I smile thankfully but she quickly adds. "On one condition."
I frown, letting out a sigh as I pick my backpack from the counter. "And what's that?"
"You don't attend your swim classes."
I scoff. "Then there's no point in going."
"You think swimming is more important than your education?" She raises an eyebrow, a hand placed on her hip.
