ANGEL BLUE [1]

LEAD 12: cue for disaster

      I’m currently lounging on Banks’ killer couch with the latest edition of the Rolling Stone on my face. I’m pretending to be asleep while Shoshana and Nathalia draw on my arms in texter. I try not to laugh because it tickles, but it’s also a great distraction to forget that Banks has taken it upon herself to create the world’s most awkward date, featuring me, Blake, Jax and Sam.

      I don’t know why Banks decided to make the ‘date’ into a group affair, I personally wanted to sleep off the fact that my new home is Banks’ couch, the same couch that likes to crush my spine while I’m sleeping.

      I still don’t understand how Banks got the Prat of all people to be social with a bunch of immature arse-hats. Yes, Banks and Jax may be older than us, but seriously, Blake and I are more mature than what they ever could be.

      “What’re you drawing?” Shoshana whispers to her sister.

      “A gun shooting roses,” Nathalia says loudly.

      “It looks funny,” Shoshana snorts, “kinda like a wiener.” 

      “Stevens is gonna kill us if it looks like that,” Nathalia scrubs at my arm. 

      “She will if you keep talking so damn loud,” Shoshana whacks Nathalia over the head because the younger girl lets out a yelp and the two get into some sort of fight.

      Banks wanders into the living room. I can tell it’s her because she can’t sing to save herself, and I mean anything to do with music, ends up sounding like a camel’s dying wish leaving her lips. She’s currently humming some pop hit before she stops walking to her room to glare at her siblings.

      “Please tell me those aren’t Sharpies,” I guess that Banks’ nostrils flare because Shoshana and Nathalia whimper and drop the markers. “A’ight I see how you two are going to play this, scram before I tell Ma―me and Akira are going on a date tonight and this is really going to be a setback. Go on, shoo!”   

      The younger girls giggle when Banks tries to corner them for drawing on my arms. They take cover behind the coffee table that holds my sombrero and I think Shoshana’s going to use it as a shield if Banks’ nostrils flare any more. After a few more seconds staring at each other, the two siblings squeal with laughter and run off to their rooms, leaving me with Banks.

      My best friend grabs the Rolling Stone from my face, rolls it up and proceeds to smack me over the head with it, causing me to snort and guard my stinging eyes with my drawn-on hands and arms. Banks isn’t angry, she’s laughing while I roll around on the floor and try to stand up.

      “We have to be ready in an hour and you’re letting my sisters draw male genitalia all over you,” Banks stops her assault and hands me back the Rolling Stone. I cautiously take it from her and she snorts again.

      “They’re flowers,” I lie; Nathalia’s drawings kind of do look like dicks. I fold my arms so Banks stops staring at my Sharpie riddled skin. I exhale, “I don’t even want to go on this stupid date.”

      “Mmmm,” Banks hums with pursed lips. “I got your stuff from your room including your Criminal Minds boxset…sorry that you have to kip on the couch though.”

      “Cheers,” I clap her on the shoulder.

      “Don’t sweat it Stevens,” Banks clicks her tongue against the roof of her pallet. “It was better than Blake offering to take his dead Dad’s room…I don’t want to come off like a jealous hoe, but I’d rather have you under my roof than his.”