A/N: I didn't really go anywhere with this chapter, I know. I'm sorry.
But this chapter is a TRUE argument I had with my brother, and I had to
vent. The plot begins in the next chapter, I promise! Please review! (And
for all those who read the 14th annual newsie awards; the management took
it down because it was 'interactive'. I'm sorry, I know you were looking
forward to it!)
**Disclaimer**
~*~ "Jordan! JORDAN!"
That would be me yelling. I was in the kitchen when I had opened the refrigerator and discovered that my little white box of leftover Chinese food was gone.
"Jor-DAN! You little thief."
"What?"
I turned away from the fridge and whammed right into our kitchen island. We didn't used to have a kitchen island, but our kitchen was destroyed when my bedroom collapsed in on it.
Long story.
Anyway, we we're in the process of getting a much cooler kitchen now. My mom's a lawyer, and she got the company to fix everything. Plus, the builder was so scared that something else would happen, he was doing all the work for free.
But anyways.
So I slammed into the kitchen island and resisted the urge to say something I shouldn't repeat. But now I was mad with a bruise on my hip, so I stuck my finger in my little sister's face. "You little thief! You ate my pork fried rice!"
Jordan rolled her eyes. "Anthony, it was like a week old."
"I don't care! It was mine! I was saving it! I want it. I want it right now."
A couple of years ago that would have scared her, but now she was older, and my words just didn't strike fear into her heart like they used to. "Anthony, I took your stupid rice yesterday. And I threw it out."
"What?!? You threw out my pork fried rice? You're always doing something with my leftovers!"
She shook her head, slowly, pitifully. "It was like a week old, duh. It was too old, duh. It would have made you barf up your kidneys, duh. Rice doesn't exactly stay good forever, duh. And by the way, did I mention, duh?"
"You should have asked me!" I cried, in no mood to be reasonable. Normally, I'm a nice guy. But you don't wanna mess with my Chinese food. Not ever. Then I get dangerous.
Jordan put her hands on her hips. "Hmm, lets see. Take your moldy, bacteria ridden rice and throw it away, like Mom asked me to, or let you eat it and get your stomach pumped?"
Well. When she put it that way. Not being able to think of a crushing comeback, but still not wanting to let her get the better of me, I warned, "I'll let it go this time."
She rolled her eyes. "Thank you, thank you King Anthony, for letting me live. I'm so grateful."
Just then my mom came in, her jumbo, extra large, can-fit-an-elephant- in-there-if-you-tried-really-hard briefcase banging against her legs. "Hey Tony, how was school? What do you want for dinner? Did you do your homework? Where's Amy? Don't tell me she's at Jessica's house. Whenever she goes there, she comes home wanting another Barbie."
That's my mom for you. Like I said she's a lawyer, so she's used to interrogating people. We've pretty much all gotten used to it. "I'm fine, school was good, and I'm going to Tibby's with the guys later."
Jordan smiled smugly. "We could always order Chinese food for dinner. Anthony would like some pus-covered rice."
Just then Amy came running through the back door. "Mommy, mommy, Jessica has a lawyer Barbie. A lawyer, just like you!" My mom hefted Amy up into her arms and said to me, "Have fun honey. Curfew is ten o'clock, and say hi to Jack for me!" Then she turned back to Amy and proceeded to break her heart about not buying her the Barbie.
I grabbed up my jacket and headed out the door to Tibby's.
~*~
I know what you're saying. Doesn't sound crazy, right? The only thing that was crazy about that was Jordan thinking she could throw out my rice. Man, she's getting way too independent. But that wasn't the crazy part of my story. Believe me, the weirdness is just beginning.
**Disclaimer**
~*~ "Jordan! JORDAN!"
That would be me yelling. I was in the kitchen when I had opened the refrigerator and discovered that my little white box of leftover Chinese food was gone.
"Jor-DAN! You little thief."
"What?"
I turned away from the fridge and whammed right into our kitchen island. We didn't used to have a kitchen island, but our kitchen was destroyed when my bedroom collapsed in on it.
Long story.
Anyway, we we're in the process of getting a much cooler kitchen now. My mom's a lawyer, and she got the company to fix everything. Plus, the builder was so scared that something else would happen, he was doing all the work for free.
But anyways.
So I slammed into the kitchen island and resisted the urge to say something I shouldn't repeat. But now I was mad with a bruise on my hip, so I stuck my finger in my little sister's face. "You little thief! You ate my pork fried rice!"
Jordan rolled her eyes. "Anthony, it was like a week old."
"I don't care! It was mine! I was saving it! I want it. I want it right now."
A couple of years ago that would have scared her, but now she was older, and my words just didn't strike fear into her heart like they used to. "Anthony, I took your stupid rice yesterday. And I threw it out."
"What?!? You threw out my pork fried rice? You're always doing something with my leftovers!"
She shook her head, slowly, pitifully. "It was like a week old, duh. It was too old, duh. It would have made you barf up your kidneys, duh. Rice doesn't exactly stay good forever, duh. And by the way, did I mention, duh?"
"You should have asked me!" I cried, in no mood to be reasonable. Normally, I'm a nice guy. But you don't wanna mess with my Chinese food. Not ever. Then I get dangerous.
Jordan put her hands on her hips. "Hmm, lets see. Take your moldy, bacteria ridden rice and throw it away, like Mom asked me to, or let you eat it and get your stomach pumped?"
Well. When she put it that way. Not being able to think of a crushing comeback, but still not wanting to let her get the better of me, I warned, "I'll let it go this time."
She rolled her eyes. "Thank you, thank you King Anthony, for letting me live. I'm so grateful."
Just then my mom came in, her jumbo, extra large, can-fit-an-elephant- in-there-if-you-tried-really-hard briefcase banging against her legs. "Hey Tony, how was school? What do you want for dinner? Did you do your homework? Where's Amy? Don't tell me she's at Jessica's house. Whenever she goes there, she comes home wanting another Barbie."
That's my mom for you. Like I said she's a lawyer, so she's used to interrogating people. We've pretty much all gotten used to it. "I'm fine, school was good, and I'm going to Tibby's with the guys later."
Jordan smiled smugly. "We could always order Chinese food for dinner. Anthony would like some pus-covered rice."
Just then Amy came running through the back door. "Mommy, mommy, Jessica has a lawyer Barbie. A lawyer, just like you!" My mom hefted Amy up into her arms and said to me, "Have fun honey. Curfew is ten o'clock, and say hi to Jack for me!" Then she turned back to Amy and proceeded to break her heart about not buying her the Barbie.
I grabbed up my jacket and headed out the door to Tibby's.
~*~
I know what you're saying. Doesn't sound crazy, right? The only thing that was crazy about that was Jordan thinking she could throw out my rice. Man, she's getting way too independent. But that wasn't the crazy part of my story. Believe me, the weirdness is just beginning.