"It IS weird that you are randomly texting one of the hottest senior the evening of your first day of high school, sis.", Marsha observes, passing me a bowl of greek salad. I gape in confusion at the food, my phone in my other hand.
"Dylan just replied to the smiley face I sent him by a smirking emoji! Oh my gosh, am I blushing? I feel as if I am..!", I ramble, opening the kitchen door that leads to the dining room by kicking it with my foot. Lucas hums a melody while grabbing the dish from my hand and setting it down on the table. He then proceeds to rush back into the kitchen where a timer just went off.
I answer to Dylan's emoticon with one of a dog. He will probably wonder why I forwarded this to him, but I didn't have any other ideas.
Meanwhile, my skilful brother opens the oven, pulling out a long rectangular pizza.
"Woah, since when is that cooking?", I gasp, my tummy grumbling.
He shushes me, concentrating on the task of taking out our meal and bringing it to a counter on the other side of the room without dropping it on our white floor tiles. I follow him with my gaze just when my cellphone buzzes.
dylan.smith: ?
Ok, that was expected.
Peytonn🍿: You made me think of a labrador.
"Peyton, move out of the way!", my brother orders me, holding a stack of plastic cups underneath his left armpit.
I whine, glancing at the screen of my device.
"Where am I supposed to go?"
dylan.smith: Wait wht?
I glance at the pizza, making my stomach grumble like I haven't eaten for a month and so I look away.
"Literally anywhere but here?", Marsha snorts, her head in the fridge.
"What are you looking for?", I ask, ignoring her attempt to get rid of me.
I approach her silently from the back, peeping to the carton of juice she is picking up. Her hair is still in a beautiful braid, which makes me run my hand through my knotty hair, envious of my big sister. Even if it was possible in real life to swap hair with people, Marsha would not choose mine, as she describes it as 'damaged'. The first time she told me that, I realized how she is similar to mom (whether she likes it or not).
My attention shifts to the palm of my hand where I just felt a buzz. I lean on cupboards that are positioned next to the refrigerator, reading what Dylan wrote.
dylan.smith: Anway, r you free sometime this week?
"Whaaat?", I croak, shaking my head in delight. "Marsha, LUCAS, come see this!"
"I'm busy, sis", my little brother snorts, carrying perfectly sliced pizza pieces he has cut I don't know when (I swear, Lucas is a machine in the kitchen..!) on three plates.
Most nights, our parents don't eat with us. That is why we are in charge of dinner.
"Well, I'm here and free to listen to whatever.", Marsha mentions slinging her arm around my shoulder. She surveys the screen of my cellphone and gasps dramatically when she understands the conversation that is happening between Dylan and I.
"So HE wants to hang out with YOU?", she utters in shock.
"Who's he?", our sibling chimes in before disappearing to the other room with an empty plate without being answered to.
YOU ARE READING
The Theater Girl and the Player
Teen Fiction*FIRST DRAFT, ONGOING* Peyton Thoms joins TSHigh's theater club. In a couple of seconds of gossip, she is now considered part of the dorks, in the eyes of the other students of her school... Great. Her hopes of having a hot senior boyfriend are be...
