His Type

Prologue

Rigel's POV:

* 15 years old *

"Nathan! Give me back the remote!" I screamed running after him.

"You have to catch me first!" He said continuing to run faster than I have ever seen.

"I'm trying to! Can you please run a little slower?" I asked and stopped chasing him. "I... Can't... Breathe." I said between deep breaths.

"Shoot! I forgot you were asthmatic! I'm sorry... Take deep breaths!" He said after approaching me.

He immediately put his right hand on my back and his left hand on my chest to help me breathe. Fortunately for me, he had the remote on his left hand so I quickly took it from his hand and started running.

"Hey! You fooled me! That's not fair!" He screamed and started running after me.

When I reached the living room, he grabbed my foot and I fell to the couch.
He jumped on me and started tickling me.

"Stop... Please stop!" I said breathlessly trying to kick him in the back.

We immediately started fighting, until we heard glass hitting the floor making a loud noise.

"Oh my god! Mom's jar! This is all your fault!" Nathan said.

"My fault?! This wouldn't happen if you didn't steal the remote from me in the first place!" I told him.

"Ok fine, it's your fault and mine at the same time! Let's clean this up, before mom and dad find out." He said and I nodded.

"No need! We already found out!" We turned around and saw mom and dad behind the couch.

"Mom, dad, you're back!" I said cheerfully, hoping they would forget.

"You're still grounded!" Dad said.

"Fine!" Nathan and I said at the same time.

"Clean this up! We will buy another jar later!" Mom said and Nathan and I nodded before starting to clean it up.

We spent fifteen minutes cleaning it up, because we argued, then cleaned, then argued, then cleaned. When we finally cleaned everything, we called mom and dad to see how it was.

"Wow! It's amazing! No one would say that you broke a jar!" Mom said surprised.

"Rigel broke it though.." Nathan said completing mom's statement.

"Damn it Nathan! It was your fault too! Stop blaming me for things that are also your fault!" I said and he was about to answer me when my dad interrupted him:

"You're 15 years old, not 5! Stop arguing with each other, otherwise you will not come with us tonight!" Dad said and I looked at Nathan with a confused look and so did he.

"Sorry" Nathan and I mumbled.

"Okay, well if you can spend the rest of the night without arguing, let's go get some Italian food!" Dad said.

"Yes! Italian!" Nathan said before getting his jacket.

"I promise we will make an effort." I promised my dad.