Playing the Playboys

Chapter 11: The Bright Places

And it's beautiful people like you
Who make me cry
'Cause nobody else could be nearly as cruel as you

"What?" I asked as urgently, slowly sitting up. "What's wrong?"

I would have sat up faster for dramatic reasons, but my sore body wouldn't allow it.

"It's you," he sighed. "You're my problem. You're gonna lose then you're gonna cry and of course being the best brother that I am, I'm going to—"

I rolled my eyes, lying back down. "I'm hanging up."

He burst out laughing. "No, wait! Sorry, little sis, can't help it."

"Not accepted, and by the way, I already managed to get on little dates with all four of them."

"What?" he exclaimed. "That fast?"

It was my turn to laugh now, but mine was more of an evil one. "You're the one who's gonna lose, bro. Watch me."

With that, I hung up.

Both of us were always competitive, even ever since we were younger. We would always wrestle in front of the television, race going to every place ever, place on bets on sports games, and a whole lot more. We always drove our parents crazy when our challenges got too extreme and too messy.

One time, Kaden and I ended up covered in flour, blueberry syrup, eggs, and fish.

Yeah, don't ask. Mom and Dad gave us hell for messing up the house.

By hell meaning after they made us clean the whole house together, they locked Kaden and I in a room to 'hug it out,' but we just ended up hurting each other more by wrestling.

I smiled at the memory and stood up to stretch. It was getting later, so I started to get ready for training. I wore my swimsuit under my black leggings and since I couldn't find the hoodie Ivan and I bought one time, I rummaged through my closet to look for another one. I reached out further inside, not really knowing what I was going for, and smiled in triumph when I grabbed a hold of soft material and pulled it out, revealing a light pink hoodie.

I stood there in a daze, just looking at the pink hoodie. I slowly sat down and sniffed it, closing my eyes at the familiar scent.

It was Brett's.

I forgot that I still had it with me, that I didn't return it with everything he left at my house. I remember deliberately not giving it back to him because it smelled so much like him, and I would just hug it to my chest and cry whenever I missed him for the first couple of days.

I remembered being so mad because I was wearing a dark green shirt and black ripped jeans at a family get together and my great-grandmother on my father's side approached me and said I shouldn't be wearing such dark colors, that it was for boys. She said I should be wearing light, feminine colors, such as pink. Karl was wearing a pink shirt that time, and she frowned upon it, saying that a boy shouldn't be wearing that kind of color. I didn't mind being picked on, but when she picked on my little brother, I had enough. Especially when Karl became insecure and asked me to switch shirts with him, claiming that she had been giving him a hard time for wearing a pink shirt.

Brett was with me at that time and put an arm around me to calm me down when I was about to tell my great-grandmother off for being sexist, and I didn't care that she was 90+. He excused himself when I calmed down and made one of my cousins watch over me.

Brett was often with me in family events because he was my best friend for as long as I could remember. He was basically part of the family.

After a few minutes, he came back wearing a pink hoodie and pink jeans, matched with pink shoes. When my great-grandmother saw him, she nearly fainted. She started sprouting out that kids, since we were fifteen at that time, were so disrespectful these days, her face red with anger. My grandmother, my dad's mom, had to escort her out to calm her down because she was losing her breath from getting angry.