Game On. (REWRITING)

Chapter 1: I AM A FORCE NOT TO BE MESSED WITH

A/N:

here it is! the waited for chapter! Hope I didn't get you too mad with the intro. haha!

I am co-writing this with my twin sister, @kirbykirbykitty11 ..... so give her credit ;)... She wrote some of this chapter :P

I woke up to what sounded like a dying cat-well heh, dying. How pleasant, Cath. Note the sarcasm.

"WHO THE HECK IS MAKING THAT AWFUL SOUND?!" I screeched, to no one in particular.

"YO CATH GO GRAB MORE FOOD AND GET YA LAZY ARSE UP!" Dan shouted from the other side of the apartment. My lazy arse? How about yours, buddy?

"OKAY IM UP DAN CALM YOUR FUR." I growled, throwing aside the flannel sheets and ruffling my hair. My stomach immediately started to groan and grumble. "Shut up," I narrowed my eyes down at my stomach. "I'm getting there."

Shuffling out to the kitchen in my bunny slippers I stifled a yawn.

"CATHY GEORGIA!" Dan yelled. Oh shut up, will you? I heard you a minute ago, lazy brother.

I started humming A Thousand Years by Christina Perri and grabbed the box of Coco Puffs off the mini fridge, a bowl, and a spoon. Grabbing a napkin with my pinkie finger I headed out to the other bedroom that Dan had all to himself. As I walked in, he grinned. "Took you long enough, sister."

"Lazy," I pouted, stretching out my arms to hand him his breakfast.

"I'm not lazy!" He insisted. "It's what I call selective participation."

"In your dreams, big brother."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't question me and don't sass me, Cathy. I'm the man of the household." He then turned his head away and began to pour in the Coco Puffs.

"Yeah, definitely. You just sit on your ass the entire day and miraculously do not get fat while I act like the little slave by feeding you, going out on errands, and working to feed us. Okay." I glared at him, and he just shook his head.

"You don't realize what I do for us, do you?"

"No, actually, I don't. So don't play this shit with me." My blonde hair whipped with me as I turned and stormed out of the bedroom to go make my own food.

Peeking in the fridge, I noticed some leftover ham. I grabbed it and unwrapped it, leaving it for a second to go get a piece of soon-to-be stale wheat bread. Throwing the ham into the sandwich and taking a hustled bite, I checked the time. 12:30. I should probably go out and buy some food, it didn't seem like we had much good stuff back at the house.

Taking hold of my keys and a fifty, I slammed the apartment door shut to tell Dan that I was going out and walked down the old stairs to the parking lot, where my old, beat up Honda that Dan used to drive was waiting. I threw my purse over into the other seat, put the sandwich in my mouth and turned the car on, revving it up and pulling out into the little street. The sun shone brightly down on the dull car, and I squinted to see past its rays.

The radio was on low volume as I continued the ten-minute drive to Hardy's Grocery Store on Oregon Avenue. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel as a white van pulled in front of me, blasting some pop-ish music.

"MIDNIGHT MEMORIES

OHUHOHO

BABY YOU AND ME

STUMBLING IN THE STREET

SINGING SINGING SINGING SINGING

MIDNIGHT MEMORIES