Straighter than Parallel Parking

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{ Chapter One: Don't Knock It (Out) 'til You Try it }

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WALKING INTO HER LIVING ROOM FROM HER LONG DAY AT SCHOOL, there are two things that instantly hit Janice, almost knocking her off her feet. One would be the potent mixture of body odour, heinous sweat, take-out from possibly three different fast food restaurants, and teenage boys; a stench that she's become so familiar with, she has become immune to, aside from the initial wrinkle of her nose.

However, the second thing that takes her mind to register the minute after she steps into the door frame, happens to be the speeding soccer ball hurdling at her face.

That, she is not immune to.

"Holy crap!" Janice ducks instinctively, dropping the school bag in her hands as she braces them over her head.

She feels the ball swerve inches from her scalp and into the kitchen behind her, a loud crash following along with rambunctious laughter. "It's not torture enough that I got detention. Now I've got insane idiots trying to assassinate me! Just so you know, whatever the hell broke, I'm not helping you pay for!"

"Aw, Plain Jane," Janice's nineteen year older brother, Karlo, pouts innocently, "I didn't know you were going to walk in, I swear!"

"Okay, fine, it's not your faul—"

"If I did, I would've thrown it much harder." Growling, Janice throws the first thing she gets her hands on — a pop can — and chucks it at her brother's head, who's sitting in the middle of the room.

"Fight, fight, fight!" shouts their other twin brothers, Alejandro and Aáron, who're acting as if they're five, rather than being only a year older than Janice's own seventeen.

Alejandro turns suddenly to his twin, sticking out his hand. "Five bucks that Janice pins Karlo down in ten minutes."

Aáron raises an eyebrow, something Janice always wished she herself had the face manipulation to do so. "You think Janice's gotten softer? Haven't you seen her with Stickler at football yesterday? Ten bucks that she does it in five."

Alejandro doesn't even hesitate (and Janice feels a little pride, putting aside that her twin brothers were betting on her like she was a circus freak— yeah, there went the pride), and they shake hands firmly.

"I don't even think it's even insulting at this point that you guys have more faith in our baby sister than me," Karlo said, sticking his tongue out at the smug boys in front of him, before turning to his sister. "Because we all know at this point that I'm always victor."

"Yeah, victor at always getting your butt handed to you," Janice responds, her schoolbags and horrid day forgotten as their banter bounces back and forth. "I'm sure all the girls get turned on by that ugly black splotch on your back. Wonder how hot they'd get if they knew you can't even handle two minutes with your 110 pound, 5"3 baby sister."

"What happened in that bedroom between us, stays in the bedroo—" cutting himself off, Karlo wrinkles his nose in disgust, "damn it, let me rephrase that so I don't sound like a freak—"

"Too late," Janice coughs, earning her a dirty look.

"—whatever, take fast!" Karlo leaps at Janice over their battered family couch, but she expects it, side stepping and kicking Karlo at his knees, effortlessly pinning him to the floor and pulling his arm behind him, placing her body weight on his back and trying to avoid his stupid legs, which were kicking haphazardly in desperation.

"You'd think you'd learn from the first 324 times you tried that," Janice said, "but I guess you'll always be a slow learner."

"Shut up, beast," Karlo mumbles, his face squished against the carpet. "I swear you're not female. You're not even human."