Storm, Meet Raine

House of Speros.

HER.

"What's up with your parents?" I ask Carson, taking my eyes off of the Derek Jeter jersey framed and sitting high upon his wall right above the door in order to look at his glowing side profile. He was busy staring at the decent sized tv standing on a big dresser, thumbs moving quickly on a game controller.

"What?" His eyebrows draw together as he attempts to do the impossible: answer my question while playing a video game.

"Your parents' relationship? What's up," I ask again, waiting for his answer. He pauses the game, causing Ryker to mutter curses, dropping the control to give me a hard look.

Carson smirks, "Sorry, Carter. It seems as if you're trying to enter the Land of Exclusivity while your ticket only allows you through the Friendzone."

Ryker cackles, his head tilting back as he falls back into the bean bag chair, his body shaking with laughter. I roll my eyes. "We don't even know what we are," I cut him a dry look, though all he does is shrugs, continuing the game with Ryker.

"You may be right, but we both know for a fact we're not exclusive." Hearing it come from his mouth hit a lot harder than when I said it. Nevertheless, I pretended like it didn't affect me so much. He was just being himself...mean, sarcastic.

"Ryker's kicking your butt in this game," I comment, just to rile him up as the little men on the tv screen run around the bases. "Hey, Ryker?"

"Yeah, Sweetheart?" I smile, definitely coming around to appreciate his many nicknames for me. Carson's head tilts slightly, posture straightening more, but he doesn't speak.

"You used to play for our school, right?" I ask him, referring to baseball. Everyone at school knows that Ryker is a freaking beast at baseball, yet he doesn't play anymore. He nods his head, thumbs flicking the controls while his tongue sticks out of his mouth. Focused. "Why don't you?"

"I'm like never in school. Don't really qualify." He grunts. "I'm basically a substitute for Vinny whenever he's out."

"Can you out Carson?"

"Without a doubt."

"Fuck! Let's go so you can shut your fat mouth," Carson snaps, pausing their game, and grabbing my hand. He yanks me out of his room.

"You're telling me about your parents?" I rush out, breathless from the sudden movement. We whirl out of his room, and stomp down the hallway.

"I'm showing you," he says calmly, not affected by our quick walking because his legs were much longer than mine. We reach the top of the steps, and he lets go of my hand. "Look up."

There was a hook. A big, metal, shiny, clanky looking loop sticking out from the ceiling. My eyes widened as the cogs in my head churned. "Is that where...?"

"Yep." It's all he says before walking down the stairs. When we first walked up here, I hadn't noticed the family portraits on the wall. But now, since my eyes were peeled for any more...interesting lifestyle objects, I was taking note of a lot. Including the little markings on the walls here and there. Two stick figures with crowns and triangle dresses were drawn in sharpie under a picture of the twins.

Another picture was of the cutest baby with blonde hair spiked up, wet as they took a bubble bath in a baby tub. "Who's this?" I point, matching the child's wide, dimpled smile with one of my own. How adorable! His eyelashes were dark, wet with water and long as heck.

"Me."

"Wow," I gush, admiring the little rolls on his arms and back. "You used to be so cute..." I trail off, meeting his unimpressed eyes. My cheeks lifted on their own accord, my body proud of the overly used insult that left my lips. "What happened?"