“It’s your sister.”
“Seven, six, five, two, one, one,” I call out because neither of them can seem to remember the code for my phone.
I’m waiting for them to read as I lower my glasses back in place, making my eyes huge again, and get back to work. After all, I am working on a B-rate version ofBuffy the Vampire Slayer, poignantly namedMuffy the Vampire Hater, so clearly, ensuring realism for my vampire dummy should be top priority.
Good god, everyone in the meeting that day should’ve been fired and banned from the film industry. Who thought that title was a good idea? It had to be a room full of straight men.
Absolutely no girls, gays, or theys would’ve ever let that happen.
I’m grinning to myself when I realize nothing’s being read, so I glance before doing a double take as my brows rise.You’ve got to be kidding.
They’re silently bickering, each with a hand on my phone, tugging about an inch back and forth as they stand locked in a battle of the glares. I almost laugh because they’re trying to intimidate each other by opening their eyes wider and wider while mouthing words through tight lips.
“Guys,” I bark, forcing them to look at me. “Just take turns, toddlers. Sheesh, read me what she said.” I shake my head as they clear their throats before I add, “Your mother deserves the Medal of Valor. Call her later.”
As I look back down, I hear a smack before Devin says, “Oww,” and Derek reads, “I haven’t heard a peep from either of you. Did you kill him?”
No, I’ve avoided him.She’s unbelievable. I’ve been in LA for three weeks and seen some wild shit. There was a Spider-Man charging a hundred fifty for a pic down at the Hollywood Walk, all while wearing a costume that looked like he stole it from a child and smelled like stale beer and hepatitis. But her text letting me know I was getting a roommate was the wildest shit ever.
“Just type: Wouldn’t you prefer plausible deniability?”
Her question begets the answer. Why would she think I’d ever actually be nice to him? He’s basically theSee Allon the Wiki page for the word “Ick.”
Devin laughs, swiping my phone back from his brother and whispering, “Give it. I’ll do it. You can’t fucking spell.”
I hear the clicks of his fingers flying over the keys before there’s an immediate ding in response to my response.
Here we go.
Derek voices the text. “Don’t be unreasonable and mean. He saved your life.”
His voice trails off at the end, maybe because of what he read or maybe because I’ve just smacked my tools down onto Count Phony’s chest.
I stare up at the guys as irritation washes over me, making me blink too fast.
Devin starts to chuckle, but Derek shoves him, so Devin points to his eyes, making fun of how big mine look, so Derek smacks him again. If I weren’t so annoyed, I’d laugh.
But I am annoyed.God, why do she and my mom always do this?
“I’m so tired of everyone always reminding me that he saved my life. I know. I was there. I’m well aware, so just shut up already. Stop bringing it up every ten seconds—”
I tug my stupid glasses off and set them down, letting out a huff.
“You know what? She’s a real piece of work. She’s forcing me to live with the one person she knows I would rather eat glass than talk to. He’s like a giant toddler, running around and throwing his shit on the walls. But oh well, right? I’m just supposed to suck it up and take the high road, no matter what kind of asinine stuff he does. And trust me,” I scoff, “there’s a lot.”
I scowl, wagging my finger at the Double D’s. “You know where taking the high road gets you?”
They look at each other as if they’re unsure whether to answer me before Devin shrugs and Derek shakes his head.
“It gets you hurtling off a damn cliff. That’s where. Proximity to stupidity is the real number-one killer in this world.”
Derek looks at Devin, who lifts his own phone to his face like he’s going to google what I’ve said.
Another ding.
Both boys glance down, then perk up, turning my phone my way. “Ooo, the Eiffel Tower.”
I scowl. “Who cares, Derek? This is so like my sister. She just sweeps in and barks directions because she’s always the one in charge, and I’m supposed to obey. No ... not this time. I am a grown-ass—”
