I got 9 older brothers.
Add 7 more and you got a problem.
Add a boyfriend and you got trouble.
Add a overprotective dad with a shotgun and you got a disaster.
Read my story to how I got over these problems like for instance, oh, I don't know, gettin...
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^^^^^^^^^^Remy's house^^^^^^^^^
The bell unexpectedly rings from downstairs making me tilt my head up from my homework. Who could that be? But figuring they are a friend of one of my brother's I look down again, putting my earphones back in place. Nothing bothers me until I hear a shout from downstairs.
"CAN SOMEBODY GET THE DOOR!!"
Dad. I roll my eyes as I continue my work. Always a shouter. Before too long the rest of the house shouts back at him.
"NOT IT!"
Fletcher.
"NOT IT!"
Hugh.
"NOT IT!"
Finley.
"NOT IT!"
Ethan.
"NOT IT!"
Dylan.
"NOT IT!"
Jett.
"NOT IT!"
Maverick.
"NOT IT!"
Harvey.
"NOT IT!"
Felix.
"WHO DIDN'T SAY IT?!"
"REMY!!"
Crap.
"REMY GET THE DOOR!!"
"NO! I GOT WORK THAT'S DUE TOMORROW!"
"YOU HAD THE WHOLE WINTER BREAK! GET THE DOOR!"
I groan, which was probably heard from all over the house resulting in chuckles here and there. I walk out of my room and down the stairs, not caring how I look at the moment. As I reach the door I adjust my big jumper and jeans before I open the door.
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^^^^^^^^^^Remy's outfit^^^^^^^^^^
What I saw was a bit weird, but since we live in the outskirts of New York it wasn't eye-bulging. A woman stands before me, along with seven dudes behind her. The lady has a nervous but kind grin on her face whether the boys behind her just want to disappear off the planet. I raise an eyebrow.
