Jailyn' s pov
I' m Jailyn Quimby, younger sister by a yer of Austin Quimby, one of Webster High' s hotties. He' s sixteen and I' m fifteen. The only boy at school who gives Aus a run for his money hotness wise ; ranking an equal or hotter position, is the 13- year- old art prodigy at school; our younger brother Fletcher.
Speaking of the little heartthrob, where WAS he?! Since my brother was too distracted by pictures of HIMSELF, I gave him a gentle kick on the ankle to catch his attention.
I know what you're thinking. Is there anything such as a gentle kick? What I mean is a kick that won' t shatter his bones to dust, since I' m the school's boy/girl kickball champion and captain.
He looked my way as I removed my earbuds from my ear and he spoke
" Yeah, JJ?'
Raising my eyebrow, I asked
" Have you seen Fletch?"
He shook his head as I spoke again
"There' s his backpack, I can see it on the kitchen floor. Maybe he' s in his room, let' s go check?"
My older brother got this goofy look on his face and mock- saluted
" Aye, aye, Bone Cruncher!'
Teasing me with my kickball rep, is he? Lemme fix that. I smirked
"That's MISS Bone Cruncher to you, Left Wing."
His eyes grew wide
" HUH? I made the team?"
I nodded, hugging him. He spoke
" Wait. You' re my Coach, right?"
I nodded, a sweetness I lost whenever I stepped on the court spreading all over my face. He groaned
"Aw, MAN! I'm gonna have to bear with you annoying me and bossing me around!"
He stopped for a while, then shrugged
" Oh. You already do that. I' ll be fine. "
Tugging impatiently at his wrist, I spoke
" Aus, come O! He' s crying, I can hear him."
We darted up the stairs and I unlocked the door with my ever-so-convenient long nails. Haven' t carried the house key in five years. He probably heard us, for he turned around immediately: red eyes, blotchy cheeks and all.
