My brother's bestfriend

2.

Thankfully I actually wake up to my alarm today, sometimes i end up sleeping through it but most of the time i do wake up to it and fall right back to sleep after I've turned it off. I'm proud of myself for not doing that. 

I stare at the ceiling for like ten minutes until I have collected enough energy to get out of bed, to say Sunday is the day of rest it sure don't feel like it, getting up early for a massive three course breakfast scheduled precisely between 7:55 and 8:30, having half an hour to do my hair makeup and outfit (the correct order and a virtually impossible thing to do) ready for church, which my ever so slightly OCD mother insists we set off at 9am for even though we live twenty minutes away, but god knows what would happen if we didn't claim our regular pew. 

It feels like I'm celebrating Thanksgiving today, because I'm acknowledging all the things I'm thankful for- waking up on time and not having a horrific, ground-breaking hangover that makes me want to curl up into a ball and rock myself until the day is a last done. In other words I don't feel as shitty as i thought i would which is always a great sign. 

i tie my hair into a pony tail before walking downstairs to go set the table like I normally do every Sunday because i know what my mothers like if i wear my 'overgrown hair' down in her 'masterchef station'.  i hear her immedietly, shouting at my dad for putting sea salt on the pancakes instead of sugar. 

"Chris, for goodness sake! How on earth do you get sea salt and sugar mixed up they have their own handmade labelling to distinctify them, is it that difficult for you to stop, look and read for once?" she says hands on hip as she waits by the stove watching over the sausages on the left side and the eggs on the right. 

My dad shrugs, "Alexandra, they're not ruined we can still eat them and if worst comes to worst we can have poptarts instead."

My mother looks furious at Dad's suggestion and glares at him before turning back to the stove. I decide that its now finally safe to approach and croak a good morning out. I'm given a simple nod, so I take it and make my way into the dinning room deciding not to listen to the rest of their conversation.

I take some plates and cutlery from the cabinet where my mom stores them and set four places even though i doubt Miles will make it home intime for breakfast. 

I pull out a chair and sit down pulling out my phone and checking my phone for any new messages. 

Man Whore🫃🍆: Just me checking in to make sure u didnt get killed by alexandra 

Man Whore🫃🍆: Also ur brothers on his way 

a slight smile forms on my lips as I type back a response. 

Teya👑🍑: Not dead yet :)

Teya👑🍑: Wanna help start planning Miles's funeral tho?

Man Whore🫃🍆: Nah just dig a hole and shove him in it he'll be fine 

Man Whore🫃🍆: I'm sure he'll have fun in hell anyway 

Teya👑🍑: What happened to your lil bromance?

Man Whore🫃🍆: I'll be there with him

Man Whore🫃🍆: Bros for life and death

***

"Miles Jacobson Stewart where do you think you're going?" I hear my mother shout as the door opens at 8:58am. 

I twist my head to peer down the hallway, Miles is slouched against a wall in the clothes he wore yesterday, and the day before that and probably the day before that too. He just stays there not saying anything or moving from his place on the wall, which I've learnt the hard way doesn't mean Mom can't see you. 

"Chill mama, I was just at the gym, I needa get changed." he says after thinking for a while flexing his muscles, obviously drunk again. He has this thing he does- whenever he gets absolutly hammered at a party instead of just dealing with a hangover the next day he gets drunk again in the morning- not as drunk but still pretty. It's stupid really because he always ends up with an even worse hangover.

"Don't lie to me son, Tessa's already told me about a party." she raises an eyebrow at him and I hold back my laugh- I know whats coming next, "Young man dont look at me like I raised you as some stoner, I raised you as a perfectly good Christian boy do you think The Lord would appreciate you getting this drunk, huh? Did you not know that getting drunk and doing drugs is a sin? Now tell me what did The Lord send Jesus Christ here to do? I'll give you a hint Timothy 1:15, the one I always make you learn. Recite it."

Miles stares blankly at her for a few moments trying to either think of the verse or think of an excuse. I give in and mouth it to him seen as I did rat him out yesterday.

"I uh... The day-saying is mu-trustworthy and deserving of full .... acceptance? that wise- Christ Jesus came into the word-ld wordle? world okay to save sinners of who... I am the most." he nods at the end god knows why. 

"Of whom i am the foremost not who, and thankyou Tessa." I swear this woman has eyes in the back of her head, shes omniscient or something. It's crazy to the point she didn't even turn her head once and someone she knew. It's not like it was that obvious. "You have five minutes to get dressed Miles and if we dont have our front row pew then there will be a curfew at 9pm sharp from now on, got it?"

Miles groans and goes upstairs to his room.

Dad's sat in the corner quietly chuckling whilst responding to what I assume are either work emails or scam emails that he'll easily fall for. After being scammed 3 times from the same company I highly doubt he has learnt any better to ignore them. Mom's the opposite she ignores every email, text or call,  if she had it her way we wouldn't have technology or electricity or wifi. 

She turns around and scowls at me, "We'll talk about your punishment later."

Mom's strict with her punishments, but Miles always gets the worst of it- she takes all of her anger out on him and takes his phone away for a week or dosen't let him leave the house unless its for church or school, while I get grounded for a day or two. Basically, I'm not expecting the worst punishment in the world- especially because i was straight with her.

***

Miles is praying even harder in church today- i can tell, because The Lord somehow saved his fucking ass by making Mom's arch nemesis the Dessen's be nice human beings and not steal our pew this morning. Couple years ago when we were in tenth grade the same thing happened- Miles came home in the late morning and we weren't on Mom's perfect little time schedule whuch resulted in us being 10 minutes later than we usually are (still 35 minutes early) and the Dessen's had stolen our pew. Mom was so mad she told Mrs Dessen to go to hell and I could have sworn I saw her calling on the devil later that day. 

I look around for Evelyn and she's sat right at the back with her dad- lucky bitch. Don't get me wrong, I'm religious and all and I'll pray and thank God for stuff, but my god Reverend Paula needs to finally discover deodorant, she smells like a middle school boy after soccer practice. Even if we were sat a couple rows back I'd be happy, but I cannot focus on anything she's saying when all my senses are occupied on this horrific stink. 

WC: 1332 words