I don't even want to know what goes on behind the door of the art room after school. Well, I don't want to know any more than I already do. I know that my older brother and his two best friends meet up there. After that, I'm blissfully ignorant.
Okay, more accurately, WAS blissfully ignorant. And now, I'm being dragged by the wrist down the hallway to that door. The door behind which, according to my sibling, "awesomeness" occurs. He pulled open the door, and it emitted an airy squeak. Inside were my brother's two best friends.
"YOU STARTED PLAYING WITHOUT ME?!" he yells.
His friends nod. In their hands are cards, and one is missing his shirt.
I'm NEVER listening to my older brother again.