Bittersweet Moments

17 | Tiramisu (with M&Ms)

17 | Tiramisu (with M&Ms)

"I'm so hungry, you already know."

Brennan danced into the kitchen - literally danced. I was talking about hips swaying, feet shaking and fingers snapping. To make matters worse, he was singing his own demented version of Fancy louder than the legal volume at morning. From the corner of my eye, I saw him go behind a kitchen island, lost in his musical world.

I only sighed, aggravated, and plopped a ladle of baked mac and cheese onto a bowl. The week flew by quickly and my sleeping routine had been changed by the trips to the Dale mansion to cook breakfast and pack lunch. I was starting to get used to missing sleep hours, but I definitely could not get used to Brennan and Jackson in the house. It was hard to believe how two people can be so amusing and chaotic at the same time.

"I'm so hungry, can't you hear my groans?" Brennan sang in his falsetto. If he didn't have such a great voice, I would've pushed his face into the stove already.

"Will you keep it down?" I looked at him, pushing a finger to my lips.

"Give me some food, or I'll blo-o-ow," he finished, and then stared at me expectantly, as if he was waiting for a round of applause.

"Boo," I mocked and pretended to chuck tomatoes at him, "You suck."

"No thank you, but I'm not homo," he smirked, "I want food now."

I only rolled my eyes. I had finished the lunch they'd bring over to school and work, but I had barely started breakfast. Now here he was, asking for food when I was the one terribly hungry. He was acting like I didn't see him sneak out a Kit Kat bar a while ago when I had arrived.

I was about to tell him to go shove a microphone down his throat when he burst out into his own song, Fate vs. Coincidence. And I had only known the name of the song because it was overplayed in the radio.

I let out an exaggerated hybrid of a groan and a sigh as I tried to focus on the kitchen. But then, he started singing off-key on purpose and that was when I marched over to him with a spoon in my hand.

"You stop that now," I pointed the utensil at him threateningly.

As defense, he snatched a stray vegetable peeler and posed ninja-style. "I can't do that!" he said, "This is like, the anthem of all the fangirls."

My inner voice scoffed. The tune wasn't even that catchy, and in my opinion, it wasn't real music. I could understand if the female population liked a certain artist for both looks and quality of songs, but it was absurd for them to adore Brennan, who had great looks, great talent, but had the worst songs composed for him.

"How funny," I pushed the spoon at him, "I'm a fangirl and my anthem happened to involve head banging and Fall Out Boy."

Brennan huffed, "You're not even a girl!"

Pardon me, dear, I do have a perfectly working uterus and a pair of tatas.

I advanced towards him, and he yelped, moving backwards. "Stay back!" I heard him stumble through his words, "I have a peeler!"

I sneered, "And I have a rust-free spoon. I won't hesitate to gouge your eyes out!"

"Aha, but not before I peel your face off!"

Jackson picked the time to stroll into the room. He stopped, looked up from his book and his eyes went back and forth between Brennan and I. "I don't even want to ask," he told us.

I pushed Brennan out of the way and made my way towards Jackson. These past days, he had been rude and smug, but it was the side of Jackson that was better than anything else. It meant that I could insult him and he'd gladly throw back a clever comeback.