“Trying to escape the dishes?” Brad whispered, his warm breath tickling the skin of my neck.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, catching my breath. “You scared me!”
“I’m sorry, and don’t ignore my question.”
“No, I’m not trying to escape the dishes. I’m trying to get the ice cream stain off my shorts, the one that you, yourself, spilled it on.”
“Ice cream stains?”
“Yes, it does.”
“Oops.” he laughed slightly, running his hands through his messy curls. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I just wanted to mess with you.”
“That’s what my mom said…”
“You talked about me?”
“Of course, idiot. She came after me to know what happened.”
“Oh. Do you need any help in there?”
“Not anymore. It’s done.” I mumbled, putting it into the dryer.
“Good, then. Your mom was calling you to help with the dishes but I’ll take care of that. Alright?”
“Bradley?”
“Yes?”
“What happened to you? Do you have fever or anything?”
“No, why?”
“Cause you’re willingly offering yourself to do something for me. Is that… regret you’re feeling? Oh, God.” I leaned over the washing machine, dramatically.
“Very funny. Go to our room before I change my mind.”
“Don’t need to ask twice!” I ran upstairs, taking the rest of my clothes off and getting in the shower.
About 15 minutes later I got off and put a towel around my body, but only after brushing my teeth I realized how I didn’t bring any clothing to the bathroom. I opened the door only wide enough to look at the room.
“Brad? Are you there?”
No response. I got out of the bathroom and locked the bedroom door quickly, finally changing into my pajamas.
“What you doing in there, Hell?”
Hell? What the fuck was he talking about?
“I was getting changed.” I mumbled, opening the door and motioning for him to come in. “And what’s up with the “hell” thing?”
“It’s your new nickname.” he said, grinning.
“Am I that bad?” I couldn’t help but laugh, and he joined me.
“We’ll see. Your mom wanted you downstairs.”
“Oh, alright. See you later.”
“See you later, Hell.”
I jumped the stairs’ steps twice at a time, throwing myself at my mom once I was on the floor again.
“Woah there, you’re not a little kid anymore.” she pointed out, laughing and hugging me.
“Brad said you wanted to talk to me?”
“Yes, we’re going out.”
“Good! Where are we going?”
“Uhm, sweetheart… Where we’re going only adults are allowed. Do you think you will be ok?”
“I guess…”
“Behave. Your cousin doesn’t need to see your bad side just yet.”
“What cousin? Who’s staying?”
“Bradley, duh.”
“What? I’m going to be alone with him in this house? Mom, the things he can do!” “C’mon, it’s not like he’ll abuse you.” she laughed out loud. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine, ok? Don’t wait us up, lock the door.” she then grabbed her purse and went out the door, getting in the car where everyone else waited for her.
I waved for them, closing the door and locking it as my mom asked. Ok. What am I going to do now? I can’t go back to the bedroom, no way in Heaven. Movie and popcorn, that’s it. And if I fall asleep on the couch it’ll be even better.
Popcorn done, I decided on watching “Love Actually”. 5 minutes had barely passed when Brad’s voice filled the room.
“Love Actually?” he asked, throwing himself by my side on the couch and grabbing a handful of my popcorn.
“That’s my popcorn!” I tucked the bowl between me and the sofa’s arm, making an angry grimace. “And yes, Love Actually.”
“You’re so selfish! Give me some more popcorn, please?” he pleaded, making a puppy face.
“Didn’t your mom teach you it’s bad manners to speak when your mouth is stuffed?” “She did, but I don’t think you really mind, don’t you, cuz?”
“I do mind if there’s popcorn flying out of your mouth, Bradley. Now, please, step away.” I pushed him off with my feet and he laughed, barely moving an inch to the side.
“You’re so weak!” he laughed even harder, taking advantage of my distraction and coming over me, getting the bowl all to himself.
“Give me back my popcorn, Bradley!”
“No! This is one of my favorite movies and I’m going to watch it whilst eating this.”
A deep sigh fell past my lips as I attempted not to flip out. “Ok, I’ll share.”
“You will?” he looked at me, suspiciously.
“I will.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Ok then.” He put the bowl inbetween us, and we watched the movie quietly. My eyes were hardly open halfway through the movie. I felt Brad moving the empty bowl to the coffee table, and going away. A few minutes later he came back, putting a blanket over me. I cuddled to it instantly and heard a slight laughter before drifting away.
*
“Heloise, wake up.” A male voice said, and I felt a hand touching my shoulder. I snorted and pulled the blanket over my ear. “You need to wake up, otherwise I’ll go to the bedroom and leave you here, in the dark.”
I opened my eyes instantly and sat on the sofa, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
“You’re afraid of the dark?” Brad asked, repressing a laugh.
“Uhm… no?”
“Then why did you get up so quickly?”
“Shut up, Bradley.” I started climbing the stairs and he followed me closely, teasing me. “Are you going to wet the bed?” he giggled.
“Get your ass in bed before I throw you out the window.”
“Heloise, you couldn’t even move me out of the couch, do you really think you could just throw me out the window?”
“Don’t crush my dreams, Simpson. Good night.” I reached my bed and tucked myself under the cold covers.
“Good night, Hell.”
*
I woke up, seeing by the clock on our nightstand that it was only 4am. I heard some movement in the hallway, so everyone must’d gotten home just now. Brad’s low snorting woke me up even more.
I guess this was the best opportunity for revenge. I got back from the bathroom with tooth paste and liquid soap in hands. Carefully, I drew a little evil face on his cheek, made a mustache and a dot on his nose. He moved slightly, startling me, but then soon stopped. I spilled the liquid soap all over his messy curls, rubbing it even more carefully. Done.
I stared at my masterpiece. There was soap running from his hair to his face and neck, and it took me everything not to burst out laughing. I placed everything back in its place in the bathroom, and came back to bed.
Sweet revenge.
