Wounded; A Brallie Fan Fiction *EDITING*

Chapter Twenty-Two: Backwards

Brandon's POV
When I woke up the next morning, everything was metaphorically in place; the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, rainbows decorated our front yard with little pots of gold on either ends of each one, and little leprechauns danced around them singing songs of treaty. I suppose every guy felt this way, after having woken up from a previous night of sex. But I had something to look forward to today.

Everybody except Jude was in the kitchen when I came striding in. This was normal; lately, ever since Callie and Jesus had come home, Jude had been acting strange. He was distant, quiet, avoiding everyone except Moms and sometimes Mariana. Concern had been sprouting around the house, but nobody ever said anything about it around Callie.

"Finally, you're up," Mom said as she poored me a cup of coffee. "I was about to call the coroner."

"Funny," I muttered, taking a seat at the table next to Callie, who planted a heart-hammering kiss on the apple of my cheek.

Mom had just crafted a beautifully structured breakfast sandwich, with egg, sausage and bacon between an English muffin. And just as she took a desirable bite right into the middle, the somebody began running her health-infested mouth.

"Mom," Mariana smacked her lips together harshly, and Mom peeled her eyes away from her sandwich in confusion, as she chewed her first bite. "Do you understand what is in that thing? That's not just animal meat. It's processed."

Mom's eyes swept across the table, most likely checking to see if we were all as confused as she was. We were.

"Well, love, I should hope so," she said humorously, "otherwise I'm just chowing down on-"

"Exactly!" Mariana shouted, and we all jumped.

Mariana's life long health kick had crossed a new territory of insanity. It'd been for the past week and a half, since the barbecue with the Quinns, and Sophia Quinn had so generously stuffed my sister's brain with facts about processed meats and artificial coloring to make it look the way it should. Mariana had practically vomited watching Jesus mindfully stuff his face with hot dog after hot dog that night.

The Quinns were just simply poisonous, with their manipulation and their unneeded information. Mariana was only Exhibit A.

Jesus grabbed his fourth mini-waffle from the plate in the middle of the table, stuffed the whole thing in his mouth, and swallowed it in an impressive thirty seconds.

"Hay-soose!" Mom yelled when she caught him taking a quick swig right out of the milk carton after that. "I hope for the sake of your brothers and sisters that you don't do that often."

Jesus's cheeks filled with milk, and some tracing his inner lips, he looked guiltily at all of us, and swallowed slowly.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Lena asked him.

"To meet Emma," Jesus called flirtatiously as he exited the kitchen and winked at us all.

"Wake up your brother while your up there, he's gonna end up sleeping till lunch," Mom said as Jesus practically floated up the stairs with excitement.

"What about you guys?" Lena asked as she took a bite out of a long bacon strip. Mariana watched in disgust.

"Date night," I answered punctually.