The Thirty Fifth Guy

Chapter Three

Chapter 3- Paradise & Pick-Ups

Chris' Point Of View

"Para-para-paradise, every time she closed her eyes..."

I found it highly ironic that my iPhone shuffled to the song Paradise by Coldplay just as my brother pulled my Jeep up the weathered gray driveway of my Grandma's California beach house.

Since my eyes were closed basically the whole trip, I woke up at the un-godly hour of five fifteen, I didn't really get a chance to look at the shops and people as we drove by.

Not that I would want to see strangers eating ice-cream in the hot sun anyways, despite what you might think I'm not a creep...

Most of the time, anyway.

As Zach parked the car in our Grandma's driveway, the miniature Buckingham Palace's garage opened, revealing a red Mustang Convertible and an empty spot next to it, calling our name.

"I'm guessing she knows we're here," I said, breaking the awkward tension between my brother and I.

Even though its been a long, and very stressful week, my brother and I still weren't one hundered percent on speaking terms, sad, I know.

Us Sanders' sure liked to hold grudges. And when I say that, I mean it wholeheartedly.

Don't believe me? My freshman year in high school my cousin cut off a piece of my hair and I was pissed to the point of almost getting into a fist fight with him, despite the fact that he was three years older than me, and close to fifty pounds heavier.

Anyway, I threatened that the next time he did anything to my hair I would cut all his off, two years later he cut off another piece of my hair claiming I didn't even remember my own threat... He woke up bald.

Not to mention, I drew multiple penises on his freshly bald head...in sharpie.

"Children!" Our Grandmother cheered as we walked through the wooden door leading out from the basement.

Her voice was as cheery as ever and she was wearing a cute yellow sundress and had purple polka-dot oven mitts on her hands.

"Hey Gram!" I called excitedly, we only got to see her every other summer, and I was cherishing her last days on Earth.

"How's my favorite Sander doing?" She called, squeezing me in a tight hug.

"Hey! You said last Christmas that I was your favorite!" My brother called, waiting his turn for her to hug him.

He was a complete Grandma's boy if you ask me, but he completely denies it every time I make fun of him for it...It's hilarious.

"Sorry sugar, but you know what they say," she said, her hand on her hip.

"What do they say?" He asked.

"YOLO!" She yelled before asking if we wanted cookies.

I looked at my brother with the same 'WTF' look, completely forgetting for a second I was supposed to be mad at him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after Gram left to get the cookies.

"Me too," I responded in the same hushed tone.

He spread his arms out, and I jumped into them, tightening my hands around his neck hugging him.

"You give the best hugs," he said.

"You're one to talk," I replied, laughing.

"I think we just complemented each other..."

"That can never happen again..." I said feigning seriousness.