Me, Mr. Player, and His 2 Hot Brothers

Chapter 5

[A/N: I'm sorry, I'm just not good with long chapters :/ But I really did try with this one. I even started it right after I uploaded Chapter 4. ]

                I closed my locker, and –surprise, surprise—Brendan’s face replaced it. I held in a giggle. He looked angry, but it was obvious he was trying to hold it back. I grabbed my book bag off the floor, ignoring him. He let out an angry sigh. Letting him sit in his fury, I headed to class. Brendan didn’t think this was acceptable, and he guided me by my elbow into the nearest janitor’s closet. Well, this wasn’t good. There were no witnesses around. 

                He shut the door and flipped the lock. I switched on the light. Alone, his pain was plain on his face. I dropped my backpack and examined the chemicals. The glass cleaner was bright pink. Weird. I turned to him, expectantly.

                “Why did you do that last night? You and your feminist crap, trying to teach me a lesson. It didn't work, and I’m starting to think you’re not as hardcore as you believe yourself to be.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his bluish-green eyes glinting.

                “What made you think I was interested? So I went in with you, but it’s only because you didn’t exactly give me a chance to go home. I think it did your ego some good to actually be denied something you’ve always gotten.” I crossed my arms too. Jerk face.

                He paced around the small room for a minute. He stopped suddenly, and looked at me curiously. I instantly felt self-conscious and zipped my hoodie up higher. He smiled, and grabbed the front of my coat, jerking me towards him. My breath stopped, and I was very much aware of how much space was missing between our lips. I resisted the urge to lean in, and instead looked at his eyes, all the while glaring vehemently. He smiled again, and released me.

                “If you weren’t interested, why did you go to the movies with me?” He challenged.

                “Because I’m nice, there was free popcorn and I—” I stopped. If I told him the truth, he wouldn’t change how he acted. He would do it even more, just to flaunt it in my face. I took a breath, and braced myself to say something I never thought would leave my mouth. “Because I’m— ” I was saved by someone fiddling with the doorknob, and a few frustrated grunts. I grabbed my book bag and ran out, leaving Brendan standing among dozens of bright pink cleaner while the janitor gave him disgusted looks.

                First period was over by the time I got to the classroom. I sighed and turned back to my locker. Second period wasn’t too bad, since it was art, and we had assigned seating. Brendan was across the room from me, but he kept winking and waggling his eyebrows.

                After school was over, and I was walking to my car, he approached me again. I sighed and stuffed my junk onto the front seat. He leaned against the driver’s door, and wouldn’t budge when I tried to shove him over. Exasperated, I finally gave up.

                “What do you want?” I folded my arms and sat against the car.

                “Let’s start over, shall we?” He shut his eyes, breathing deeply for a moment. When he opened his eyes, instantly he turned from egotistical jerk, to flirty hot guy. “I know you want me, Lisa.”

                 “Yeah, you’re so right. I want you; I need you… to go away!” I rolled my eyes and shoved him. He chuckled.

                “Is that your version of a hug?” I shook my head. “Hey, hottie, is this seat taken?” He gestured to the passenger seat. Jerk.

                “No, and if you sit there, this seat won’t be either.” I slid into the driver’s and he sat in the passenger’s. I groaned and pulled out of the parking lot, refusing to look at him. When I drove into his yard, he winked at me, and kissed my cheek. I punched his shoulder and he jogged up to his steps. I peeked at him in my rearview mirror. He waved and I stepped on the gas. All the sexual harrassment I could report him for kept me thinking on the way to my house.

                Five seconds away from his house and my text alert went off. I pulled it out at the stop sign.

                Brendan: Hey, what time is good for tonight’s date?

                Seriously, Brendan? Seriously? I repeatedly knocked my head on the steering wheel. The light turned green and I pulled into my yard. Dad was washing his car with Mom, and, of course, they were distracted by splashing each other with soapy water and the garden hose. I yelled my greetings at them, and ran inside to get some food. I timed myself and was able to with-stand answering his text (and the reminder texts) for approximately 12.2 minutes before I snapped under the pressure. I sighed and grabbed my phone. Tapping the keys, I scrambled for a response. Well, so far I haven’t really played with him.

                Me: No time, because I’m busy tonight.

                I sighed and pulled out my homework. Wow, Brendan sure could make me sigh, if not grunt incoherently. I am such a terrible person, I thought, while concocting tomorrow's plan.