Meet The Coach

Lesson 13: Always Classy, Never Trashy, Just A Little Bit Nasty

Lesson 13: Always Classy, Never Trashy, Just A Little Bit Nasty

"SANDY! BREE!" I jumped at the sound of Carter's rage. We were making breakfast whilst counting down the seconds to our death.

We kinda bit get over the top with the perfume...

"Yes my dearest brother?" Sandy called out innocently. Carter said nothing instead we heard heavy footsteps. And my God, he smelt him way before we saw him.

He face was red. His nostrils flared. This usual generous lips were pressed together into a thin line. And he snarled.

The stench of the cheap perfume made me cough. I paused buttering my toast and pinched my nose. Carter glared at me and if looks could kill... man I was dead.

"Did Clara come over last night?" Sandy teased daringly. Carter's gaze snapped to his sister.

"Harhar. Very funny. Why the fuck did you spray this perfume over everything in my room?!" He yelled.

"We didn't do it," Sandy lied smoothly.

"I would say I smell bullshit but only thing I can smell is this stench. How do girls wear this?!"

"You should ask Clara that question. Bree and I like using Dior."

"You're so impossible Sandy," Carter declared. He looked at me and took a few steps forward. I pinched my nose slightly harder. "Did you do this?" He seethed.

"You clearly know the answer to that Carter." Gosh, I sound weird when I talk with my nose pinched.

Carter paused. Most likely to be amused with my voice.

"Why?" He asked.

I was tempted to look at his sister and be a right traitor but I wasn't that mean. I shrugged. "It could be worse. We could've decorated your face with Sharpie pens."

Carter lips twitched. He mumbled something underneath his voice. Frowning, he turned around and walked out the room.

Aw, no fight?

As he left through the door a pang of guilt hit me. I felt sick in the stomach. "Ugh," I commented.

"You're such a softy. I told you, you were warning up to him."

"Oh c'mon. Don't me you don't feel bad."

"Okay. Okay. Maybe we did go a little bit far," Sandy accepted grudgingly.

"Shall we...?"

"You. He's warning up to you too. When Hailey and I put make up on him... he screwed at us for days. He could barely argue with you right now."

"Okay. Fine. But finish making my breakfast then," I said. Sandy agreed and walked across the kitchen. I grabbed the bag we had prepared before we sprayed his room and I left the kitchen. I walked towards the stairs and climbed them. "Carter? Where are you?" I called out.

There was no response. Well, of course there wasn't going to be one. I checked all the other rooms and realised that surprisingly he was in his bedroom. Hesitantly, I knocked on the door. "Carter open the door. Yeah I know you're mad. Just open it anyway."

"What do you want?" He grumbled from behind the door.

"For you to open the door. Like I said."

"Why?" He questioned.

"Just because."

"Wow. You're so persuasive," he commented sarcastically.

"I have some clean clothes for you to wear. That's why."