This is War

One

"'Cause you're the best mistake I've ever made," I sing as I skip down the stairs of my house which I unfortunately share with my brother Matthew Espinosa who's a famous teenage boy. He has vine to thank for that.

"Shut up, Hailey," Matt whines as soon as I'm at the bottom of the stairs. I glare at him and notice he's talking on his phone. Most people would feel a little guilty since you're supposed to be quiet when somebody's on the phone, but not me, I could care less. He's my older brother, I'm supposed to annoy him.

"Oh, who you talking to, your girlfriend?" I ask in a taunting voice, before adding, "Oh yeah, you don't have one."

"Go away Hailey," he whines again as he presses his phone against his chest, shooting me a death glare. He considers it a warning, but I just consider it funny.

"You know it's really easy to annoy you," I say smiling as I stare at his face. He hates when I stare at him, it makes him uncomfortable especially when it's the little-sister-asking-for-something face.

"Mom, Hailey's bothering me!" he yells throughout the house so I glare at him. I quickly some up with a retaliation before turning in the direction of our mom's bedroom.

"No I'm not, he told me to shut up!" I whine as our mom walks into the living room. She looks at us as though we're five year olds arguing over if we're going to watch Dora or Diego.

"Both of you stop acting like two year olds and help me get ready for this party," she says, I guess it's two year olds, not five. She holds up two dresses, one a green that goes down to her feet and the other a red that falls to her knees.

"The green," Matt says as I say the red so we glare at each other.

"The green makes her looks like she's going to some ancient party, but the red makes her look beautiful," I say, but Matt shakes his head as mom leaves obviously agreeing with me. I'm a girl, Matt's a boy, so I clearly know more about dresses than he does.

"Get dressed!" she yells causing us to groan as we run up the stairs. Matt going to at a time and me, following behind, doing one at a time.

I turn into my room and go up to my closest. I pull out my red dress, but throw it onto the floor since mom is wearing a red dress. No way am I going to be caught, guilty or not, copying my mom. I pull out my dark blue dress, but throw it since I feel like light colors today. Which means I'm probably in a happier mood today, so it's a good thing. I pull out my light pink dress and hold it against me as I look in the mirror. I drop it realizing it's way to short for this, and I don't want mom to murder me. I pull out my light blue one and realize it's perfect. It'll make my eyes pop. I have no idea how I got blue eyes, no clue at all. Stupid genetics, always being complicated.

I shake away my thoughts as I walk into my bathroom and change into the dress. I pull my hair up into a pony then start doing my makeup. It's something I always do to make sure I don't get foundation in my hair, although I usually do anyways.

As I'm applying my eyeliner Matt comes into my bathroom causing me to poke my eye. Unluckily for me it wasn't a liquid liner.

"Hurry up, we have to go get snacks from the store," he says as I start to cry. "Hail Hail what's wrong," he asks actually worried but still using my really annoying nickname. I ignore him since I seriously can't open my eye. And I know that whenever something gets in my eye it hurts like hell. He pulls me into a hug as I try to open my eye with my fingers only making it hurt worse.

Eventually, I open my eye as though it's a pickle jar no one can open. I push Matt out of my bathroom locking the door. I finish my makeup. I then brush my hair out and see it actually looks okay, which a big surprise, because usually my hair hates me. I decide to leave it in its wavy brown style. I realise that it's probably time to cut my hair, it's grown brown to my lower back.

I exit my bathroom and grab my black vans, sliding them onto my feet over my short white socks.

I then quickly go downstairs to see Matt on the phone again.

"Yeah, but you have to dress formally... because this party is apparently a big deal... Just tell all of them to come... Okay see you here," he says then ends the call so I cross my arms and tap my foot so he looks up at me. "Finally, you were taking forever!" he complains which doesn't surprise me since he's always being annoying.

"Did you just invite your friends?" I ask so he smiles in that annoying way since he knows that I'm not allowed to invite mins. It's the stupid, your brother is famous, let him do what he has to do to stay that way, it makes him happy.

"Yeah I did," he smirks so I roll me eyes. He then reminds me that we have to go get the snacks, so I annoyingly agree with him.

We walk out and get into his car, he's driving of course. Eventually, we pull up into the parking lot. We get out and enter the store, and I immediately looks up to Matt. Yeah, he's taller than me. "So... what exactly are we getting?" I ask him, but he only replies with a shrug. Of course he wouldn't ask mom what she would like for the snacks. He wouldn't think ahead like that. He's Matt.

~

After we finally finish, assuming what mom would like, we're in the car and he starts driving, again. Better Together by Fifth Harmony comes on so of course I sing along. I sing to everything, it's fun to me.

"Because now that you're gone and I sleep alone," I sing loudly as Matt groans, probably hoping that home was closer by.

Once we're back home, mom makes us put the snacks on really fancy plates. She always goes overboard with these kinda parties, I honestly don't think the guests would care if things were on paper plates.

Once we're finally done it's an hour away from the party. I'm not excited, but Matt clearly is. Probably because he can't wait to rub his friends in my face.

The doorbell rings causing us to look at each other. I go to say he should be the one to get in since he's getting special treatment, but the words come out of his mouth first.

"You get it," Matt says as he walks away smirking happily. I groan as I walk towards the door.