My Girlfriends Brother || Reddie

Chapter One

The golden rays of late summer filtered through the sprawling oak trees in Richie's backyard, casting playful shadows on the manicured lawn. The air was warm but pleasant, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass, lemonade, and the last remnants of summer. It was one of those days that felt timeless, as if the world had decided to pause for a moment and let them breathe before everything changed.

Richie leaned back in his oversized lawn chair, lazily swirling the glass of lemonade in his hand. Condensation dripped onto his wrist, but he didn't care enough to wipe it away. His sunglasses sat slightly crooked on his nose, and his bare feet stretched out in front of him, toes curling in the soft grass. A half-eaten plate of chips and salsa balanced precariously on a nearby table, forgotten in the lull of conversation.

Lexi was sprawled out on the grass in front of him, her golden hair fanned out like a halo around her head, catching the sunlight in a way that made it look almost ethereal. She wore a loose tank top and denim shorts, her skin glistening faintly under the sun. One arm rested above her head while the other absentmindedly traced lazy patterns in the grass. It was the last week of freedom before senior year, a bittersweet horizon marked by the excitement of new memories and the daunting reality of growing up.

"Can you believe we're actually going to be seniors?" Richie asked, his voice carrying both disbelief and a tinge of excitement. He adjusted his sunglasses, pushing them up slightly to shield his eyes from the golden glow of the late afternoon sun.

Lexi, still lying on her stomach, tilted her head slightly to look at him. Her lips curled into a small, reflective smile, one that carried years of shared memories and unspoken nostalgia. "Feels like just yesterday we were freshmen, stumbling through the halls and trying to figure out where the cafeteria was. Now we're the ones people look up to—or at least, they're supposed to."

Richie let out a short laugh, the sound rich and warm in the quiet space between them. "Wild. And terrifying," he added with an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. "College applications, SATs, prom... it's all about to get real."

Lexi pushed herself up onto her elbows, her face glowing with optimism that Richie both admired and envied. "Real, sure, but also amazing," she countered, her voice bright with excitement. "Think about how much fun we're going to have this year. Road trips, homecoming, senior pranks, parties... This is our time to make everything unforgettable."

Richie couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, though a part of him felt a gnawing unease beneath the surface. The future felt like a massive, looming question mark. For all the excitement, there was still a quiet fear of the unknown—of what might change, of who might drift away. He swirled his lemonade absently, watching the liquid slosh against the sides of the glass. "You're always so sunny about this stuff," he teased, his tone light but tinged with honesty. "What if it's not everything we expect?"

Lexi rolled onto her back, propping herself up on her elbows again. The grass clung to her bare arms, leaving faint green stains, but she didn't seem to notice or care. "Even if it's not perfect," she said, her gaze fixed on the blue sky above them, "it'll still be ours. That's the whole point. After this, it's college, then graduation, then marriage, then—"

"Whoa, chill!" Richie interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her. "We've got years before all that. And let's be real—we're probably breaking up after college anyway."

Lexi shot him a glare, sitting up fully now. She picked up a stray blade of grass and tossed it at him, though it fell far short of its mark. "You're such a jerk sometimes, Richie. Why do you always have to ruin the moment?"

Richie grinned, his crooked smirk full of mischief. "It's part of my charm," he quipped, though there was an edge of sincerity in his voice. He liked teasing Lexi because she always fired back, always held her own. But when her scowl lingered, his grin faltered slightly. He shifted in his chair, sitting up a little straighter. "Alright, alright, I'll work on it. Promise."