The Quirky Tale of April Hale (Quirky Series #1)

2. You Think It's Funny to Scare People Out of Their Daylights? No. No.

a/n:

I first found this video a few years ago when a few readers mentioned that this reminded them of April and Ryder. SO WATCH ON AND ENJOY THE SONG :)

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2. You Think It's Funny to Scare People Out of Their Daylights? No. No.

When I walked downstairs, I was not amazed to find the whole Hales were already lurking in the kitchen for breakfast. The Hales were morning people, after all. We loved hearing the birds chirp, and adore the fresh air, ah those magical morning phenomenon.

Or so I thought.

Apparently, everyone but me was more interested in the fights that happened between the Blacks than the morning's natural occurrence. It was our 'morning table talk' topic. There were four people in the Hale family, and each of them had their own favorite at the Black household.

We were a family of weirdos, I had to admit.

"I'm disappointed that Mary didn't have anything feminist to say this morning." My mom said, as she put her hand on her cheek, and let out a depressed sigh.

It was a patented action that she always made whenever Mrs. Black didn't yell at either her husband, or her son.

"Someday, I swear I'd ask Gregory out for a couple of drinks." My father proudly announced, as he spread the butter to our bread.

It was already the seventy seventh time he told that to us.

"Count me in, Dad." Quentin, my twin brother, hit Dad's arm lightly.

Quentin and my father seemed to be having a good time. They both supported Mr. Black. Dad supported him because, well, I thought it had something to do with the similar way their gray stubble grew, and their automatic role as the breadwinner of the family.

And Quentin, well, Quentin supported Mr. Black because he secretly wished the tragic demise of Ryder. I didn't really know how, or when the implicit yet lethal rivalry started between those two boys, but I was pretty sure that the reasons involved a few punches, kicks, and the title of the school's bad boy.

Yes, my dear brother Quentin, who shared the same womb with me, had all the violent genes. Not only that, he was also vain beyond belief, especially when it came to popularity.

As much as I disliked his vanity, though, it didn't stop me from loving him, and ruffling his dark-dyed hair. He was always the one who helped me, no matter how complicated my situations was.

And believe me, I was a potent magnet for complicated situations.

For example, when I was in seventh grade, somehow a brawny ninth grader was convinced that I was head over heels for him, and wanted nothing more than his tongue inside my throat. Quentin was the one who knocked some sense to him that no, 'I didn't want his mouth or any of his friends' mouth near me, his little sister', and yes, 'nobody would lay his hand on me as long as he still breathes.'

Of course, the brave, but idiotic action led him to be the target of some older jocks afterwards, but because of that particular event, Quentin was notorious for his agonizing punches, ultra high painful kicks, and new techniques for beating people's up. (You seriously didn't want to hear how he forced a twig up someone's nostrils.) Last but not least, he became especially popular for his trademark; His bloody-teeth smirks.

FYI, chicks in my school were into the very last thing, which explained Quentin's full schedules at weekends.

Talk about peculiarities...