ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ✓

E L E V E N

Alexa

Since I was suspended, I woke up at ten, opposed to six.

I had the house to myself. My stepbrothers were all at school, which was a good thing for me. A day without blood, blood, and more blood. All in all, a pretty good day, but i know that it wouldn't last. Not when they come home.

As I was eating lunch at around noon, the doorbell rung. I stuffed the rest of the sandwich into my mouth and went to get the door —- who in the would could possibly be waiting on my doorstep?

The answer?

Michael.

I stared at him with a raised eyebrow, perplexed. Why is he here exactly? "Hi?" I said awkwardly. "Um, you're here because?" Oh my gosh, did that sound rude? I think it did... oops. He's gonna unfriend me now...

But Michael merely grinned, which is what he often does. "Sup, Alexa! I'm suspended too, remember? I decided to come by, seeing as you must've been all by your lonesome."

"Oh...." My mouth formed an O. "Right."

"Also," Michael said, "today is when we go over to Jackson's house. Did you forget? Still up for it? Of course, Jackson's in school but he's gonna skip at around one, but Elliot won't and—"

"I think I get it." I chuckled. Yes, a chuckle. As in a delighted sound left my mouth. "Yeah, I'm still willing to go. How long? Hour? Or two?"

"The entire weekend," Michael said. "Or... would that make you uncomfortable? I mean, you're surrounded by guys all the time, it's not that much different. Right?"

I could think of a few differences, I thought drily. Like they hurt me and you don't. But I didn't say that. I merely nodded, forcing a smile. "Yep. Not too much different," I said.

"You're not packed, are you?" Michael said. When I glanced down at my shoes, he grinned. "No worries! Guess that means I can help ya! Where's your room, Alexa?"

I stared at him, incredulously. My room? I mean, I am going to be hanging with three boys all weekend, so what's the harm? I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Okay, come on. I'll show you."

As we walked, Michael asked me, "Do you have a phone? It'll be easier if we could communicate and whatnot."

"I don't have a phone," I told him. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Michael said, deep in thought. "Hm, interesting..." But that last bit was more toward himself, not me.

I opened my bedroom door and stepped inside, Michael after me. "Got a spare backpack?" he asked.

I nodded, pulling a blue one out. "I only need two sets of clothes. And some bathroom essentials. You don't really need to—-"

"I'll pack your clothes," Michael interrupted. "Go get those other things."

I nodded and went to the bathroom. I grabbed a hair brush and a toothbrush. Hm, what else... Oh, my antidepressants. I grabbed those too. I think I'm good. As I leave the bathroom, I heard Michael yell out a question from my bedroom.

"Hey, where do you keep your undergarments?" he asked. "Never mind, found them! Oh, wait, do you want the black bra or the—-"

I rushed into my bedroom to see Michael holding three different colored bras. I blushed Scarlet. "Hand me those!" I said, mortified. I stuffed the white one in my backpack, along with the other things I grabbed.

"Why are you acting like I just found out you murdered someone?" Michael questioned.

"Shush!" I scolded, blushing red, as Michael chuckled.

"So, do your brothers—-" Michael started.

"Stepbrothers," I corrected.

"But family is family regardless of blood..."

"You would think that," I muttered.

Michael stared at me, thinking. Then, he said, "Well do they know you're coming to Jackson's house? Or will they think you've been kidnapped?"

"Neither," I answered, pulling the backpack into my shoulders. "Really, it's fine, Michael. Honest. What time is it?"

"Around one," Michael said. "Jackson should be home. Elliot will come after school ends because he's kinda lame like that."

I smiled at that. "So we're gonna go right now?"

"You bet." Michael grinned.

***

Jackson's house was a shade of baby blue and seemed to be two stories. Like I've probably said before, I don't like unnecessary descriptions, so I'm just going to leave it at that.

Michael grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the door and then he rung the doorbell.

A woman in her late thirties opened the door. She wore a kind, motherly smile. So Jackson's mom is home then? Is she okay with Jackson being out of school? Weird.

"Oh, Michael!" she gushed. "Always a pleasure." Then she looked at me. "Oh, you must be that girl. Alexa, was it?"

I nodded, shyly.

"I'm Jackson's mother," she said. "Nice to meet you. You can call me Maci."

I smiled.

Michael grinned. "Is Jackson home?" he asked.

Maci nodded. "Yep. He's upstairs in his room."

"Thanks," he said. "I'll show Alexa the way."

I followed Michael and the both of us bounded upstairs and into Jackson's room —- without knocking. Good thing he was only pacing. But he seemed angry. Super angry. He didn't even notice us come in.

"You good, bro?" Michael asked.

Jackson looked at us, startled. "Oh... it's just you," he said.

"Thanks..." Michael muttered.

"Are you mad?" I asked, tensing up. Nothing good ever comes from an angry male.

"Yup." Jackson plopped himself on the bed. "My shitty cousin and his equally as shitty friend are both coming over too." He lied down and groaned. "Fuck my life."

"Who's your cousin?" Michael asked. "You never did tell me. Do I know him or—-?"

"Oh, you know him all right." Jackson leaped up. "You and Alexa both. We've kept the fact that we're cousins a secret. I hate him so fucking much I just want to rip out his heart and feed it to my non existent dog. Oh, same for his friend."

I stepped back. "Okay... if we know him, what's his name? And his friend?"

"Listen, sorry I never got around to telling either of you this, I was embarrassed to have him as a cousin, you see, but—-"

"Jackson!" his mother called from downstairs. "Blake and his friend is here!"

Well, fuck.