THREESOME

sixteen - its in his nature

Daisy

Almost every morning Scott drags me out of bed so that we could drag Frankie out of bed. It was no surprise when I heard Scott banging on the door.

"Ugh I'm coming." I headed towards the door and when I got there I swung it open.

"Hurry up get dressed." I plopped down on my bed.

"Scott, there is something I want to tell you. It's about your brother." He stood up from my words. He started moving closer and closer to me 'til I was backed up against the wall. Pinned, I couldn't move.

"What is it Daisy? Don't tell me your not still talking to that dick." Now usually I'm not afraid of Scott, or any guy from that matter but the way his voice deepened and how his veins popped out of every visible place, it made kind of nervous.

But, and like most the reasons I get arrested, I have a big mouth. "So what if I am?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "You going to befriend me. Yell at me. Run away angry?" That didn't seem to faze him because he was still mean mugging. "Yea I am talking to your brother. We even...We even..." I couldn't get the words out.

"You what? Spit it out."

"We even...he...showed me his tattoos." We played the staring game for a bit. I couldn't bring myself to the kiss. But no need, Scott was going to force it out of me.

"That's not all you did. What else did you two do, huh?"

"We...we...he touched me." I blurted out.

"He touched you?"

"Yes. My, tit." I lifted my head up.

"That's it?" He seemed a little confused.

"And we kissed. But only like a little on Friday. I promise," I went on.

He sat back on the bed, the most confused look on his face. He finally spoke up.

"So you two didn't have sex?" He furrowed his eyebrow in question.

"Ew no. That's disgusting. Who told you that?" I gave his confused look, a confused look.

"He did. He sent me like three whole paragraphs apologizing about sleeping with you. Not once, but twice." He pulled his phone out to reveal the messages.

After scamming through some, I was fucking fumming. "That dick head! He seriously came to me with some sad sob story about how he wanted to fix things but seeing you made him jealous or something. He got mad when he saw you get your first tattoo so he started treating you like crap."

"I got my first tattoo at 15. His taunting started before that." Scott calmly informed me.

"Oh yeah? How about he also told me that he made a promise with you when you were five to get a tattoo together? And, and how it didn't take him 'til he was an adult to see that he was in the wrong. And how his parents brainwashed him and-"

"First of all, he never made a promise to me that we would get a tattoo together when we were five," Scott held his hand up to stop my talking. "No, instead, he promised me that I'd get the birthday gift I wanted, all to get nothing. Why? Because he would lie to parents then, and he'd lie to them now, telling them that I wasn't behaving in school and that I was being mean to him. That's why I never got any cool expensive gifts. Like, he seriously manipulated my parents into making them see like I was the bad guy. And his parents brainwashed him? No he brainwashed them. I mean adults, fucking adults don't go and see if they're youngest son is okay. But, my parents I don't think really liked me any ways because yes, I was kind of bad," his voice started cracking once saying that last part.

"Scott," I placed my hand on his shoulder, "with Frankie and I, you'd always get the best gifts. Remeber? Like last your for Christmas and your birthday what did we give you?"

"Your love and new a bed room," he said quietly, head hung low.

"Right. Because we love you." I paused for a bit, letting Scott take in what was said. "But now who we don't love," I continued, "is that dickface of a brother!" I stood up remembering my anger from earlier and started pacing around the room. "I mean! I can't believe he'd lie like that and think I wouldn't find out! I swear to God...No, no, so help me God, this boy better not go around saying stuff. I will demolish him! Totally obliterate him!" I was heavily breathing. If you'd know me, heavily breathing and clutching my fist were not good. Not good at all.

Scott stood up infront of me. "Okay look, let's go get Fran and talk about this. Are you still supposed to be seeing him? And why were you seeing him anyways nasty?"

"Because he basically swore he wanted to make things right."

Scott shook his head. "You ever heard of the frog and scorpion story?"

"Uh..." I searched my memory for it.

"The scorpion asked the frog if he could take him to the other side of the lake. The frog agreed to the scorpion, but only if he doesn't sting him. Here and there when they were in the water the scorpion occasionally stung the frog even though he wasn't supposed. When they made it to the other side of the lake, the frog asked, why? The scorpion said because,"

"It's in his nature," we said at the same time.