I Fell For The Loser In Glasses *ON HOLD*

Let's Do It!

Kristian's P.O.V

...

"I'm home,Mom!" I shut  the door as Blaire walked in. She rushed in from the kitchen, her , spoon in hand and white apron, which rocked a brown stain (please be chocolate) covered a floral  sun dress.

"Welcome home baby. Take your shoes off , Blaire." she said as she dusted her flour covered hands on her apron.

"What's for grub, Mrs.A?" Blaire asked bluntly, putting his shoes down on the curly, brown  shoe mat.

She smiled , content showing in her burnt honey eyes, "I made cookies!" she shouted, running back to the kitchen. The smell of overcooked cookies, was a smell I never got tired of. She never followed directions. "I know how to cook, no need for directions." she would always say before a failure presented itself on a platter in front of me.

Me and Blaire laughed  and put  our backpacks down  in the 'bag chair'  before diving into the beige leather couch in front of the 45 inch t.v that Mom fought for on Black Friday (Mom threw some hands that day, I feel sorry for that old lady though.)

...

Blaire's P.O.V

Two hours later

Another episode of How I Met Your Mother had begun, the sound of Kristian's loud snoring had replaced the theme song gracefully. His head had fallen onto the arm of the couch, drool collecting into a pool around his mouth (not his most attractive state). I remembered the first day I met him. It was second grade lunch period, some jerk had pushed me to the ground, I was defenseless ,that was when HE stepped in, he was MY hero, we had been friends ever since. He was even cuter when he was asleep, so calm, so peaceful, so unaware of how much I truly loved him. I stared deeply at him knowing he would never be mine, not with HER around.

Footsteps in the kitchen

...

Lia's P.O.V

"That will be 32 dollars." said the red-haired cashier boredly, as she smacked the gum in her mouth obnoxiously. I looked at Markus who stood behind me, "You're paying,right?" I asked, really not wanting "no" to be the answer. He smirked and turned his head in the opposite direction. Dick. I fished 50 dollars out of my purse and paid the cashier, she rolled her eyes, then proceeded to calculate my change on the computer sitting in front of her. That's basic arithmetic dammit!

"Keep the change." I said,  grabbing the already bagged things off the counter and shoving them onto Markus who was holding back laughter.

Hopefully she took that 18 dollars and bought herself some social graces or at least a wig that  didn't smell like it had been worn by a dead person.

We stepped out of the shitty service KMART into the barely populated parking lot.

"So,where does this guy live?" I asked, rolling up my sweater sleeves (it was like 100 degrees despite it being the middle of October) why am I wearing a sweater?

Markus stuffed the 'tools' into his army print backpack, "35 Rosalyn Avenue, a couple blocks from here."

"Lead the way." I commanded

...

We arrived in front of a 2 story brick shoe-box, painted in the ugliest shade of grey my eyes had ever seen, tiny windows were scattered randomly over the walls, was this guy a midget,squirrel maybe? Moss grew over the stripping walls and a rusty, aged gate that sat in front of the unkempt lawn that surrounded the 'house'. The garage door that was supposed to be white was stained an unsightly green , this guy's house was like a biology experiment gone horribly, horribly wrong. A large chimney peeked out from the dark green roof not adding any style to the already 'hard to look at' building. The house sat by itself , no neighbors might seem to a dream to some, but this was a whole other, creepy level. The house looked like one that would be featured on my favorite t.v show, Ghost Hunters.

"You're sure he isn't here?" my eyebrows raised into question marks.

Markus scoffed , "Does it matter?"

Not really, but I don't want to go to prison, not again. (Kidding!)

I grinned as I unlocked the gate, "Let's do this!" bellowed Markus, dropping his bag onto the forest we stood on , handing me an egg tray.

"Splat!" I threw the first egg on the front door, it's raw juices trickled down onto the steps.

Markus laughed  as he threw a toilet paper roll over the house, giving it a 2 ply white ribbon.

...

An hour later..

The house looks disgusting, I mean more disgusting than before. Yellow and white splatters found their way onto every wall, it looked like an angry chicken really didn't want kids and had committed a ton of abortions on this poor guy's home. The house was remodeled into a fat rectangular mummy, toilet paper covered almost every inch, the egg whites acting like adhesives. The leaves of the trees surrounding the house were all replaced with white paper frolicking like flags in the air.

"Lia, over here!" Markus had walked to the other side of the house.

Panicked, I ran over to that side of the house. He was holding a ladder (was that in his backpack too?), positioning it below a half opened window.

Don't tell me he's thinking what I think he's thinking