Sadie here.
You know, I worry about my brother, He's getting older and I know he's maturing, and he's a young man but...
I'll just spit it out-he's spending WAY too much time with Zia.
Alone.
In his ROOM.
WITH THE DOOR CLOSED.
Now you know why I'm worried.
My suspicions came true one day when I was going to his room to tell him dinner was ready. I stopped by his door and was about to open it when I heard it.
"Carter..." Zia moaned, "Give me some more."
"Only if you beg," my once-thought-gentlemanly-brother Carter said.
"No."
"Beg," Carter commanded.
"I refuse."
"Then you don't get any."
A small whimper sounded. "Please?"
"Good enough."
Silence.
Then: "Mmm. Ifff thhaffss looodg."
I burst through the door, nearly breaking its hinges. Carter and Zia were sitting together on the bed, and Carter was holding a spoon and a big white bowl in his lap.
"What's wrong with you?" Carter asked, annoyed.
"I-uh-what..." I couldn't seem to finish a complete sentence.
"Carter and I were sharing a bowl of cookie dough," Zia explained, attempting to ease the awkwardness.
It didn't work.
"I...uh...food is done..." I shut the door behind me and took off to Walt's room.
"You have a sick mind, Sadie."
"But-but it sounded like they were!"
Walt rolled his eyes.
"Honestly, I imagined them more intertwined than candy floss."
Walt raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Candy floss?"
It was my turn to roll my eyes. "You weird Americans. Cotton candy, candy floss, whatever. You're missing the point."
"You're being ridiculous."
I sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
Walt raised his other eyebrow. "Really? That's a first."
I punched his rock hard arm. "Ow," I said, "Oh just dry up."