Summer Love

Chapter 3

Red behind my eyelids. I groaned, my forearm flopping over my eyes to shield them. Rolling over on my bed, I tried to go back to sleep, until I was shaken vigorously by my dear brother.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" Tom called, sitting on my back, practically squashing me. "Why so early?" I mumbled into my pillow, slightly annoyed that he had woken me up at 7:00 am. "We're going over to the Hemmings' house today, remember?" he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I could just feel his eyes rolling.

"Yeah, at 11," I replied, annoyance dripping from my tone as I mumbled into my pillow. "You take forever to get ready," Tom points out. "Not 4 hours," I retort. "Oh well, since you're up, you may as well have breakfast," Tom says, totally changing the subject.

"And I can get another hour's sleep," I say, hoping he doesn't hear me. "No, you're getting up now." Damn, he did hear me. "I can really get up when you're squashing me flat," I say, sarcasm dripping from my voice. Tom jumps up immediately. And proceeds to rip off my covers, revealing the awkward foetus position in which I sleep.

I groan loudly, which turns into a squeal as Tom drags me off the bed by my ankles, and down the stairs to the kitchen. Trust me, going down the stairs hurts when you're being dragged by your ankles.

Tom deposits me in a heap on the kitchen floor. I decide just to go back to sleep here, and hope he doesn't notice. As usual, he does. After about 5 minutes of blissful, kitchen-floor sleeping, Tom stomps into the kitchen and drags me up onto my feet, where I continue to keep my eyes closed. Did I mention that I'm terribly stubborn?

"Kirsteeeennnn," Tom whines. "Please cooperate with me." I shake my head slowly in response. "Why not?" he whines. I shrug my shoulders. I was not really in the mood for an overexcited big-brother. "I'll tickle you," he threatens. To which I shake my head vigorously.

Before I continue, let me explain. Don't judge me, but I hate being tickled. With a passion. It is my ultimate weakness, and only Tom knows this. So please don't judge me. Continue reading.

My eyes pop open as I hear Tom's footsteps slowly approaching me, his hands outstretched and an evil grin on his face. I cringe and back away from him. "No Tom, please no," I plead to him, but he keeps advancing on me, the evil smirk only getting wider. "I'll cooperate with you I swear," I say, putting my hands up in defence. He stops walking, but does not lower his hands. "Promise?" he asks. "Promise," I say, very quickly. Tom's hands drop, and his grin loses its evil look.

"Now, remember Kirsten, you have to be ready before 11, you got me?" Tom asks me with a serious look on his face. I roll my eyes. "Yes, Tom, no need to be OCD today," I say impatiently. His eyes narrow for a few seconds before he smiles and walks upstairs. I roll my eyes for the second time and proceed to make myself some breakfast.

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A/N: Before anyone asks, I know that Tom is acting like a 5-year-old on Christmas Day. But let's just get this straight - he is one of those people who gets overexcited about events that are important to them, like going over to a friends place. He also is very protective over his little sister, so why isn't he allowed to be a little OCD? And I'm sorry if that offends anyone, I do not mean to say anything against you. So just enjoy Tom's behaviour and imagine that he is your overprotective older brother.

Thanks!
:)