𝚂𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝙼𝚢 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 (Complete)

𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝙱𝚎𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖

"Please, mom?" I beg at our kitchen counter as my mom runs around gathering the last tail ends of dinner. "Lucas really wants me to go. And...I've never been to a concert before—"

"That's because you never want to go," Mia replies out of turn, pacing into the kitchen while doing her makeup for an unknown reason. She turns away from her small hand mirror and stares at me for a second. "And since when do you say please?"

"Why are you doing your makeup?" I question, ignoring her quite rude statement.

She flips her hair and glares at me, but it's hard to take her seriously with only half her foundation smeared on her face.

Yes, I do know a little bit about makeup.

Wait—

Foundation is what you put first, and then that powder with the soft brush...

What about those pencils they use to draw on their faces?

You know, I've been known to draw a fantastic stick figure from time to time—

"Nosey," she replies.

I snap out of my thoughts as I see that she's now completed the other side of her...

It's eyeliner, isn't it?

Because it lines the eye.

Realization sets in, and I realize how dumb my thoughts must have sounded. Thankfully no one can hear my thoughts—mind-reading isn't possible—, because I'm starting to sound like Justin.

"You're not going to call me a troll or something?" she questions, a bit taken aback.

"I refuse to stoop to your level," I return, finally realizing I have strayed from my mission. I'm about to ask my mom about the concert again when Emilie walks into the kitchen with her head wrapped in a towel and says, "Aye-aye."

"Hello to you too," Mia greets in return. "Although you don't have to say it so weirdly."

"I was calling you an Aye-aye, dummy."

"What?"

"You wanted Paris to return your immature antics, but she doesn't have the guts. Therefore, I stepped up like the proper—"

"Wait, I'm the immature one?"

I roll my eyes, leaving them to their newest feud as I walk over to my mother, who is chopping up the last bit of toppings for the tacos.

"So...can I go?" I ask, trying to hide the slight desperation in my voice.

"I don't make the rules for being grounded, missy," my mom finally replies, after Proboscis, Hyena, Marabou, warthog, Blobfish, Sphynx cat—

'They aren't ugly.'

'Of course they are!'

—between my sisters.

I sigh, drowning them out as I think for the millionth time, 'Yet apparently being grounded doesn't apply to family outings'.

But this logical thought leads me to a quite genius idea.

"What if I convince Lucas to give me tickets for the whole family?"

"We don't want to bother him with more. He's already been incredibly generous—"

"Great! I'll text him now," I reply, pulling out my phone and ignoring her sigh.

"Since when do you have a boy's phone number?" my dad questions, storming into the room.