Saving Grace

Chapter Three: Evading the Truth

"Gracie! Wake up!" Charlie shouted over the Metallica music that he was blasting in their bedroom, attempting to combat the horrifying gangster rap that currently thumped through the ceiling above them. The lump underneath the pile of blankets in the far upper left corner of the room stirred, covering her ears with her arms, disturbingly accustomed to sleeping through the thundering bass that blared from the apartment above them at odd, sporadic hours.

"Please, Charlie," she groaned, "not today. Any other day except today..." she moaned miserably.

"But, Gracie, it's almost seven thirty! If you don't get up soon we're gonna be late," he complained. It took Gracie a good few moments to process his words before she threw her blankets off, with an amusedly alarmed look on her face.

"Did you just say we?" she asked groggily, throwing her arms over her eyes to block out the sun. "The deal was that I'd get up and take you to school, not go myself."

"That wasn't our deal." Gracie froze at the icy sound of his voice.

"Fuck." She shot Charlie a "what-the-fuck-man?" look before her eyes slid toward the doorway. Preston leaned up against the doorframe, his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, his long, straight black hair pulled back into a short, low ponytail, keeping it out of his crystal blue eyes for once. He had a smug smirk on his bruised and swollen face. Gracie immediately jumped up from her makeshift bed and stumbled toward her older brother, her eyes wide. "Shit, Press, goddamn, how many times do I gotta tell you to keep your fucking hands up?!"

"Calm down! Some guy from the other team and I got in a little fight, he got a few good shots in before I took him out. Lighten up, sis," he said with a crooked grin, before wincing slightly. Preston didn't even blink as she practically tackled him to get a good look at his face. She gently shoved him out into the living room, dragging him by his arm toward the kitchen where she immediately went to the freezer and grabbed one of her pre-made icepacks made from wet 10¢ sponges.

"No big deal!? Obviously you haven't looked in the mirror yet."

"Well... no... But it doesn't even matter 'cause we won. I scored four of our six goals, plus I got my check cashed yesterday so we've got money. I'm on fucking cloud nine so don't ruin this moment for me," he said, hardly containing the joyful laughter that threatened to burst out at any moment.

Gracie grinned and rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see her, what with her moving around grabbing her first aid stuff. "Yeah, yeah whatever, good job, meathead. Go sit down." She didn't have to say it; Preston already knew how proud she was of him.

By the time Gracie stopped her flurry of movement and turned to look at Preston and Charlie, who were sitting side by side on the counter next to the sink, they were both just barely holding back their laughter. "What the hell is so funny?" she growled putting her hands on her hips and glowering at the pair threateningly. When the boys teamed up she always lost.

Charlie couldn't hold it in any longer. "The next time I need to get Gray up... remind me to beat... the living crap out of... your face," he said to Preston through a series of giggles. Charlie's eyes were watering by the time he peeked at his older sister's face. "I ain't ever... seen... you get outta bed so... fast," he choked out, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down.

Preston frowned, wincing slightly as Gracie began dressing his wounds. "Who's to say it's not you getting your face pounded in next time?" Charlie snorted, puffing out his chest.

"Oh yeah, punk? Think you can take all this?" he asked, making his voice sound as deep as he could while simultaneously jumping to his feet on the counter and gesturing to himself, but the effect he was attempting to achieve was lost due to his sporadic giggles.