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.