The Screwed Up Club *UNDER CONSTRUCTION*

Two-Seater Toolbag Express

Picture of Maren^^

Sometimes I really wonder if we're all just destined to become like our parents, in some way or another.

As if the traits we inherited from them take us down the same road they went on.

I know I got more from my dad than my looks, but was it enough to make me like him? Or the things I have in common with my mother. Will they make me suffer the same heartache she has?

God I hope not.

"Maren, sweetie, would you mind waking up Micah for me? He's got class and I have to head to work," Mom asks me as she grabs a banana off the kitchen counter.

What I want to say is, "He's twenty one years old and I have to wake him up like a toddler?" But what I say is, "Sure, Mom. Have a good day," as she walks out the door with a wave.

With a sigh, I pull myself off the seat and stomp up the stairs. When I make it to his room, I yank open the door and let it bang against the wall.

"Hey, toolbag. Mom wants you up for class," I say and nudge his sleeping form with my foot. He jostles and then sits up quickly, clutching his head.

"Hung over, are we?" I say brightly, letting the sarcasm drip from my tone.

"Hey Sis, can you maybe stop yelling?" He says with a grin, and I roll my eyes.

"Can you maybe stop getting wasted and go to class for once?"

He laughs and looks at me with bloodshot eyes that make his bright green irises glow. I take in his tousled auburn curls and tan skin and almost cringe. He looks so much like Mom it's scary. Whereas I, with my almost black, unruly curls, golden eyes, olive skin, and tall willowy form, look just like my father.

"Looks like you're about to be late too, Sis," he whispers and bursts into another fit of giggles, causing me to curse under my breath.

I race out, ignoring his comments, and grab my backpack and exit the house.

I pray silently that he hasn't left me yet, and scan the street for his car. I check my watch, and tap my foot rapidly. I can't be late to school again. Mrs. Ratchford will kill me.

As I debate whether or not to make a run for it, a red corvette pulls into my driveway. I run off the porch and yank the door open, only to find Cassie Taylor laughing loudly in the passenger seat. She shoots me an annoyed look and flips her long blonde hair. I bend down and lock eyes with Blue.

"What is going on?" I hiss, fingers clenched around the door.

He smirks at me, dark blue eyes full of mischief.

"Cassie's car wouldn't start up this morning so I offered to give her a ride. You don't mind, do you Mare?" He says, false innocence clear in his deep voice. I catch myself before I get lost in that voice and glare.

"I know you're not too good at math, Person Who Is Named After A Color, but this is simple addition. There are two seats in the car, and three people. You see where I'm going with this?" I grind out.

"Well I figured we could squeeze. I know Cassie wouldn't mind being in the middle," he says and shoots a long look at the Barbie doll beside him. I roll my eyes. Of course he wants Cassie practically in his lap. I weigh my options; either way I can't let him win, but I don't have time to just walk. Unless...

A slow smile creeps onto my face as an idea forms.

"Of course! But I wouldn't want to inconvenience you, Cassie. You're a bit taller than me so it would be harder for you to get in the middle. So why don't you just hop out and I'll do it?" I say sweetly.