Arranged Marriage (BoyxBoy)

Dot Dot Dot

In case Wattpad doesn't notify you, I added some to the end of the last chapter. So, if you're reading this just after I posted it, you'll want to go back and read the last chapter's last few paragraphs.



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*Gabriel*

Did Kit have my stripped blanket? Should have picked that up a week ago. Ah, well, I hoped he enjoyed it after I have departed. Poor Maddy, it would scar her poor psyche to watch her aunt off her only child right there in her kitchen. Guess Micah wouldn't have to marry me after all, seeing as I wouldn't be among the living for much longer and all. I totally should have kissed him. Maybe I still could. You know, while my mom went for the meat cleaver. Yeah, I'd take him by surprise before she gave the rest of the room a little 'surprise'. It was scary how bipolar she could flip into - definitely a gemini.

No! Where's he going? I can't surprise snog him if he keeps moving. Grr. He was heading out of the room - out of the room! How do I kiss him NOW?! I screamed internally at him, bemoaning his seriously underdeveloped telepathy skills. I mean, come on people, how hard could it be?! I'm a simple guy.

The stupid peach hulk was walking out of the kitchen into the front foyer. I watched from the pass-through. He was saying something to my beloved mother - who would at any moment now be driven to kill me. She was chirping at him. He was smiling back. She was turning way, heading to go up the stairs... She was turning away?!

What just happened?

"We now probably have about half an hour to clean this up, scrape a meal together, and get our entire entourage in the car to kidnap your father from the office." He smiled. Gad glared at him before grabbing something from the refrigerator, slamming it shut, and stalking out of the room.

"So," he clapped his hands in the face of my shock. He may have to wait a week; my brain's gone on vacation. . . It'll be gone awhile.

There was a tiny hand tugging at me. Kennedy, she was giving me some sort of knowing smile.

"Come on..."

"It's...I...Uh..." I looked at the mess that should have become chicken salad. What'd we do for lunch now? Or was that dinner now? Super, yeah, my last super. That sounds about right.

"Don't worry, Micah will fix it." I looked at her incredulously. Kennedy could read minds?! I glared at Micah's broad back. . . Na...

"Come on," Kennedy pushed at me, "you get the hard job, gotta clean up!"

I looked back at the mess spattered all over the room with the same horror as a crime scene. Thirty minutes?! I had less than thirty minutes to figure out how to make all this disappear? What did I look like, Harry-flipping-Houdini? Me, your average chore dodging teenage brat... who wouldn't know the difference between a kitchen sponge and a shower loofa... how exactly was that supposed to happen?! No, maybe I should just go look at tombstones now.

"I'll show you how," Kennedy smiled at me sweetly. She was going to relish this, and she did. I was pathetic. She even knew where my mom kept the rags for cleaning up the counters, and that I needed to use a different rag on the floor. Kennedy and Maddy worked together to trot the mop - for the ceiling of course, they made me wipe up the floor on my hands and knees - into the kitchen from the laundry room, knocking over quite a few things as they bounced around, giggling happily. I think my mom deliberately decided to take forever getting ready, just to put off the moment she had to deal with the outcome of all those loud crashing noises. Fine by me, wasn't my mess they were making. She couldn't kill me for that.

Half an hour later - I'd just managed to smear my mess around a bit more. But Micah had done something with paprika and salt, made a bunch of toast, smeared the mess on them, packed the sandwiches in little baggies , and thrown them and drinks into a cooler I don't remember seeing in the past five years - yeah, he scoured it first - I think... Which meant he got to help the brats torture me into learning how to clean up after myself.

Great. Just pull up a lawn chair why don't ya? Did this not count as cruel and unusual punishment? It was Micah's fault for leaving me alone with this. Slave labor before death, now a live reality performance!



By the time they finally deemed me finished I just wanted to scrub up and crawl into bed. Instead, I got five minutes to clean up, change, and help Micah get my mother in the car - forget the kids, they wouldn't be saying 'just five minutes' for the next three hours. And we still had to pry my father out of his office. Maybe we'd all starve to death before we got anywhere near what may or may not be now edible food.



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Sorry, I know it's short. Any comments? They really do make it easier to keep writing.