Hating Grayson ✓

01

I was seated on a stool in the kitchen when I heard shuffled movement coming from the other room, followed by the sound of nerf guns being fired.

Idiots.

It was 2pm on a Saturday afternoon and I was trying to eat a snack in peace.

It is always like this when my parents are out of the house.

Just yesterday afternoon they had the not-so-bright idea to turn the staircase into a ramp using cardboard so that they could ride down it on a skateboard. My brother, Mitchell ended up breaking one of our mother's homemade kintsugi vases and blamed it on me.

He always blamed me for everything, mostly because our parents are easier on me than they are on him. He's the oldest, and I'm the youngest, their 'baby boy' as they like to put it every so often.

I took a bite from a chocolate-chip cookie, patiently waiting for my parents to return from visiting my grandma.

Another round of nerf bullets went off, followed by the sound of shattering glass against the ground. I jumped at the sound, accidentally dropping my cookie on the floor.

Great.

I hopped off of the stool, picked up my fallen cookie and discarded it in the trash can before I walked angrily towards the scene of the crime. "Are you guys serious?!" I shouted, turning the corner into the living room area.

And all of a sudden, I'm struck on the forehead by a nerf bullet.

I paused, taking in the shooter.

His stupid caramel hair falling over his annoyingly bright and blue eyes. The way he smirked so devilishly it made me want to walk straight up to him and punch him in the jaw. Behold, the one and only, Grayson Scott; The bane of my existence—Also known as my brother's dumb and annoying best friend.

A short silence followed as anger rushed throughout the entirety of my five-foot-seven body.

They began laughing—no, scratch that—they began cackling, like two clowns at a circus, which made sense, given the way that they were behaving so moronically.

"You are both assholes!" I spat with flared nostrils.

"Cheer up, we were only just messing around." Grayson said with a grin.

"Yeah baby bro, quit being such a downer." Mitchell added.

"Why don't you quit breaking shit! Go outside if the two of you want to keep acting like a pair of fucking idiots." I turned around and headed back to the kitchen to continue eating cookies.

The best thing about comfort food: you can eat it when you're sad, bored, happy or angry.

"And clean up your mess!" I called from the kitchen before taking a seat on the stool again.

"Yes sir!" Grayson mumbled sarcastically, just loud enough for me to hear.

That smug prick.

I rolled my eyes before pulling my phone out of the right pocket of my sweatpants. I expected a text from any of my best friends to appear, wanting to hang out or something, but nada.

They're all probably busy.

I sat my phone face-down on the countertop and reached for another cookie.

"Oooh, Can I have some?" Grayson asked after appearing beside me. I swear my soul nearly left my body.

"Jeez!" I backhanded him in the arm.

He reached towards the plate of cookies that I had baked just earlier today, missing it by an inch as I dragged it away from his hands and out of his grasp. "Why don't you go buy your own, or better yet, go back to your house and bake some."