Echoing Back (BxB)

※ 𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕕𝕖 𝕀𝕀 ※

(27.04.24)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

In hindsight, maybe playing crappy Roblox horror games all night wasn't the best idea I'd ever had. Because not only was I tired and miserable as hell, but every time I began dozing off, that hag with the long neck from Mimic would come running at me, Nunchucks or whatever weapon she has in the game spinning wildly. It was not fun.

"Somebody looks like shit today." My brother Isaiah said, bumping my shoulder and barreling down the stairs into the kitchen. I don't think I mentioned that he was 14 years old and not meant to be swearing. "Language!" I yelled down, hoping mom would hear so he'd get an earful. She didn't.

We were having eggs and rice. Not exactly breakfast, but hey, I'm not going to sit here and pretend it isn't 12:23 and I didn't wake up 5 minutes ago. Obviously. It was a simple 'dish' if it could even be called that, but I think it was one of my favorites. Why? It was simple to make if you take out the rice part, but I usually made it when we had leftover rice in the fridge and I was too hungry and lazy to actually put effort into something.

"Mom says you have to take me to soccer today." Isaiah says, in between spoonfuls of rice.

I groaned. "Can't you take yourself?"

"No."

"Why do you even play soccer anyway? You suck at it."

He snorted, "I'm the best player on the team; I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure, sure," I said, not believing him for a second. He had a habit of over exaggerating certain things.

"Just hurry up," he said, getting up from the table. "I don't want you making me late."

I rolled my eyes, but I went to my room and got ready anyway, spending extra time in the bathroom, trying to get my hair to look like it wasn't just about to get struck by lightning. It wasn't working, so a cap would have to suffice. I was sitting on my bed, struggling to pull on my converses, when Isaiah began pounding on my door. "When I said 1 o'clock, I didn't mean 1 o'clock next year! God, hurry up!"

"Calm down," I said, tying my shoelaces and pulling the door open. "It's not going to be the end of the world if you're like–3 minutes late." He sent death daggers with his eyes my way, but wisely chose not to comment.

"Louis!" My mom called from the living room, "Could you get some eggs and milk while you're out? I need it for my sponge cake, and we're all out."

"Sure," I said, making sure to grab my wallet from the kitchen table. Flipping through it, I found that I had 40 whole dollars in there—more than enough.

It turns out that Isaiah really wasn't as bad as I assumed he was at soccer. He had actually scored a few good goals and was doing pretty well. I wasn't ever going to admit this out loud to him, or anyone in fact, but I bet he was the best player in the whole field. That thought made my heart swell with pride. The fact that my little brother was absolutely kicking ass.

Though he wasn't the only good player there, there were two kids, both of whom were twice his size; they looked like identical twins. But even then, even when his team was ass and there were two kids almost as good as him, he still managed to carry his team to a draw.

I didn't dare tell him any of this, though; it would only go to his head, and he'd become more insufferable than he was already. After his game had finished, we began the walk to town to get my mom her milk and eggs, and he recounted every play, every goal, and every single dodge with an air of smug satisfaction. And I was the poor soul who had to deal with it.