Girl's Got Game

Part 4

Oh no. David's coming home. You know, the ignorant, mean, uncaring, judgmental brother who hates my guts? The most critical person in my life?

I haven't seen him in three years for a reason. The last time he came home and I saw him, he told mom everything that "she should be doing" to control me and told me repeatedly how bratty I was. It hurt a lot.

So he's on leave. A three month leave. Where he will stay at our house. I mean, get an apartment.

Get a job. Get an apartment. Get a life. And stay outta mine.

The next day was a blur. David wanted to come home the day after CJ and everyone came home, so Mom put us in charge of cleaning the house while she was gone. We did a pretty dang good job, if I do say so myself.

Good news is that CJ's team won the championship, and they all got tickets to Disney World. So David's arrival was postponed a day.

The plane carrying my parents and CJ landed at midnight the next day, and David would be coming that afternoon. I actually was able to get up early so I could make a run for it to Eliza's, which made me have to go to one of her lacrosse games. Well, it was between lacrosse or David, so I picked lacrosse.

During the game, my phone started ringing. It said "Mom" on the caller I.D. Big trouble.

"Where are you? You know, you're brother has finally come home after a year and a half of being deported IN IRAQ and you won't even come to see him?.....You know, you can't run from all of your problems..." I had to walk to the parking lot to avoid people staring, but they probably still heard she was so loud. "Mom, I'm at my best friend's lacrosse game. I'm here to support her. Why are you yelling at me for that?"

"Okay just come home soon"

"Whatever. I'll try to find my way home through the jungle..."

"Stop fooling around and come see your brother."

"I'll try."

"No. You will." She hung up.

"Was that your mom?" I turned around to Chase coming over.

"Yeah. You heard David'a on leave, right?"

"Yepp. My dad told me, since someone else didn't." His dad and my dad were good friends.

"I'm sorry. It's been busy."

"Eh no problem. Good luck, though. You want me to come with you and hold your hand and protect you from the monsters under your bed?"

"Shut up. I'm not afraid of David."

"But you're afraid that he'll think you're a little punk."

I looked at my reflection in a car window. Blondish brown hair, tank, snapback, varsity jacket, Jordans. Yeah, I'm not a punk.

"I'm not a punk. Punks are like scene and stuff."

"I meant rebel."

"If he did, I wouldn't care."

"Whatever. I gotta go. Good luck, you little Hispanic."

"I'm Spanish. Not Hispanic. There's a difference."

"Well you're blonde too so I'd say neither."

"Racist."

"Never."

He ran off and the game ended. Eliza decided to come to my house since she's never met David. Like she'd want to.

"Hey. You go in first." I told her when we got to my house."

"No that's awkward."

Fine. We walked through the front door. I thought about spitting the gum in my mouth out, but then again, who cares. I could hear voices coming from the living room.

Oh geez. Why did I even bother?