Number eleven

Chapter 3

Chapter dedicated to @dreamsdontlast for the amazing cover!!!!!!

"You were suppose to take a right turn back there," I inform Daylin, who groans loudly.

"Couldn't you have told me that before I turned?" He huffs.

"I was trying to find our way on your stupid gps," I defend harshly. "Anyways, just turn around and go back."

"What did you think I was doing?" Daylin snaps. "Eating a potato?"

"Your sarcasm is not needed," I grumble.

"Maybe I wouldn't need to be sarcastic if you hadn't made us late to school on our first day. Mom is so going to kill us."

"That was your fault," I fire back. "I wasn't the one who took thirty minutes on my hair."

"It was more like five," he objects. "And anyways, you're the one who eats like a turtle."

"I like to enjoy my food and savor it," I shrug. "It was you anyways who couldn't find the perfect outfit to wear. I swear your secretly a girl."

"And I swear you're secretly an ass," he states.

"Wow." I roll my eyes. "Such a good comeback," I answer, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Daylin turns to the right, leading us down a long narrow road.

"Where do I turn next?"

"Wait until you get to Elm Wood, and then take a left. That should lead us to the school."

"Wow," he replies. "Someone finally managed to learn how to use a gps. By the way, don't ever try to get a job that has anything to do with navigation."

"You're my brother. You're suppose to be supportive."

"If you ever get a job in navigation I'll have to be supportive...that is when you're tried for manslaughter for accidentally murdering thousands of innocent lives."

"I'm not that bad," I protest weakly.

"Sorry sis, but you are."

"Turn here," I inform, and Daylin turns left, leading us down another long dusty road.

As we drive, we have to swerve the vehicle slightly to avoid hitting several large pot holes.

"They need to fix these roads," Daylin growls.

"Well hello Captain Obvious, I didn't think you'd be back again this morning. I was hoping you would leave for a vacation, but now I see that that was not the case."

"Could you shut up for one second," Daylin scowls, and I roll my eyes.

"Why are you so angry this morning? Did someone hit you on top of the head with an anvil?"

"No Brinley," he snaps. "It's just that we're already ten minutes late on our first day of school. Mom's probably going to murder us when we get home, and oh let's see, we're also late for football practice, which will probably lower our chances on actually making a team."

"They've probably already picked teams," I answer quietly.

Daylin's voice softens, and he turns and gazes at me.

"That has never stopped you before."

"Yeah, but they've got some major competition here I've heard. I'd be lucky to make a team," I sigh, playing with my fingers.

"Brinley, that's not true, and you know it. You are an amazing receiver, and I'm sure you'll make the team. Anyways, what made you think about this. You've always been so confident before."