The Play

1

Damian

"You want us to what?" I asked.

My stepbrother sat at the other end of the couch; his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. His hair seemed even darker against his ivory skin and when his eyes flickered to mine— I looked away.

It's his fault we're in this mess.

Skylar went to a gay club, so his friend gets laid, but when I go, all the sudden he's pissed and tells on me. Now Dad and Sarah have us on house arrest. We're either at school or Aunt Teresa's. 

The three of us sat in her living room, on the worn leather couch, a wooden coffee table stood between us and the small, flat screen TV.  To the right of us, sat an old fuzzy recliner barely holding up the pile of quilts and cat toys on it.

"I'm not being in some rundown play," I said.

"Not with that attitude!" Aunt Teresa bopped my nose. I sneezed.

Thank the universe she was my only aunt... I couldn't handle another one. 

Her hair was dark brown was tied into a messy bun. A pair of thick glasses magnified her hazel eyes to twice their original size. She was in her mid-thirties and had yet to find a man but five cats instead. 

"I rather die," I said.

"What? I thought you loved plays," Skylar smirked.

"Can we not?" My face heated up.

In 5th grade, I puked all over Santa Claus in the annual Christmas play. The look on Santa's face when I chucked all over his pearly, white beard, the gasps and eerie silence that followed— still makes me want to 

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" Skylar asked.

"N-no."

"Oh, sweetie," Teresa said. "It wasn't that bad."

"It was in the school newspaper!" 

"Oh no. The horror." Skylar covered his heart.

"Christmas was weeks ago," Teresa said. "This isn't even a holiday play."

"No offense, but I don't care."

This conversation was over. I wasn't someone who took the stage-- last time I could barely breathe, granted I was a child then, but still, I wasn't an extrovert by any means. Teresa grabbed my arm when I stood up to leave. 

"I'll get your dad to unground you." 

What? There was no way. Dad was still reeling, even though it happened months ago.

"You can do that?" Skylar perked up. 

"You two know how persuasive I can be," she said. "When have I ever let you kids down?"

"Uh..." Skylar and I shared a look.

"Okay, don't answer that!" Teresa waved her hands. "What if... I talk to your parents first. If they agree, will you?"

Skylar stood up and pulled me to him, slinging an arm over my shoulder. "Hell yeah, we will!"

"Wait—"

"Great! It's settled then," she grabbed her purse and keys.

"Where are you going?" Skylar asked.

"To find my brother before he realizes I need something and hides from me," she laughed and slid her old jacket on.

I didn't blame Dad; Teresa was scary persistent when she wanted something.

"I'll be back in a bit. Look after my kitties!" She shut the door behind her, leaving the two of us alone. Great.

"How could you do that?" I asked.

"This is our chance, Dami."

"Don't call me that," I removed his arm from my shoulder.

"Whatever," he said. "Just don't puke this time."

"That's not funny."

"Obviously," He laughed and ruffled my hair with his hand. "You haven't done it yet."

How could I handle theater-- with Skylar?

Please vote and comment :)

This is a spin-off of my older book Art Project!

FYI, Skylar and Damian are stepbrothers. They're not related by blood, some people confuse stepbrothers with half-brothers.