The Boys And I (A Connor Franta Fanfic)

Chapter 1

•NORA•

"Do you know the Miranda Rights?" Aunt Kerry asked me, testing me from the book. Honestly, I don't really need to be studying now, especially since my exam is next week, but if I want to become a CSI detective, I've gotta read up on my stuff.

"Do I have to?" I countered. She smiled and nodded, obviously acknowledging my misery. "Okay, um, it starts like you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can, and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney-"

"Good so far, keep going," she beckoned with an encouraging smile.

"-If you cannot afford an attorney, we'll give it to you because you're poor?" I asked, knowing it wasn't the actual answer but since I didn't really know the actual answer, I kinda just guessed.

Aunt Kerry sighed. "This close. You were this close."

Suddenly, the boys came piling back upstairs, hollering at some joke that was apparently the funniest thing in the world. I rolled my eyes and faced Aunt Kerry with an annoyed look. She stared back at me with an amused smirk.

"Oh, boys!" She called out in a falsetto tone. I groaned as she laughed at me. "Have you met Trevor's cousin, Nora?"

"Yeah, Mom, literally twenty minutes ago."

"Oh."

I laughed slightly at her and looked back down at the textbook in her hands, then to Trevor who was now sitting next to me on the couch.

"Yeah, she said if we needed her, she'd be upstairs," he said nudging me.

"Wait, I didn't mean that literally-"

"C'mon, Nor, we need you!" He grabbed ahold of my wrist with his surprisingly large hand and pulled me off the couch all the way down to the basement. I rubbed my wrist as I sat down on the cream colored sofa.

Our basement isn't really that exciting. The only splash of color is the beaten up, red, leather recliner in the corner. The scratchy, white carpet held two large sofas identical to the one I was sitting on now, there was a wide flatscreen television that was placed inside of an entertainment center, and pictures Trevor and I drew as kids up until a few years ago line the walls.

Trevor motioned to a camera on a tripod in one of the corners of our basement.

"No. I'm not filming you guys," I said, turning around to go back upstairs, but Trevor grabbed my arm before I could escape.

"You're not going to film us," he shook his head, "you're going to be in our video. Well, my video, because it is Friday, and I'm Friday,"

"You're Friday?" I asked confusedly.

"Yes. I'm Friday. Connor's Monday, Ricky's Tuesday, Sam's Wednesday, Jc's Thursday, I'm Friday, and Kian's Saturday. It's the O2L schedule." He answered as if that wasn't confusing.

"What's an O2L?" I asked, earning blank looks from them all.

"Do you even watch our videos?" The boy with the rosy cheeks, Sam, I think, asked with a slight laugh.

"Well," I scratched the back of my neck, "no."

"Do you even watch my videos?" Trevor asked with a nervous laugh.

"I mean, not r-no," I said, and Trevor gave me his best scandalized look, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

"Do you even remember our names?" Sam asked again, more seriously and looking more shocked.