Thirteen-years-old, Connor Wolfhard, a considerate and magnanimous teen, trying to cope with the enslaved power of a merciless creature. With the abidance of detest, deep-rooted for his contentious mother, and intricate in an explosive concocted sto...
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C O N N O R
"Wassup baby! Your boy is back in the city." The loud resounding voice of Maverick boomed through the entire house.
I swear, he has one of those booming voices that can be heard for miles.
Maverick entered the living room where I was watching TV. A glare formed on his lips, replacing all his happy mood, as his eyes met mine.
He threw his heavy backpack directly at me. I winced when the rough strap of his backpack touched my arm.
"Why the hell are you sitting there? Just seeing your face, ruins my day."
I placed down his backpack on the couch beside me, without making any eye contact with him.
He approached me and before I knew it, I felt a hard smack given on my head. I kept staring at the ground.
"Shithead." He muttered and left the living room, cursing at me under his breath.
I sighed in relief and rolled my eyes when he left and continued watching the show, coming on TV.
My phone chimed. I picked it up to view a text from, Destiny.
Have you completed your English project, yet?
Shoot. I've completely forgotten about that. Thanks for reminding me! ♡
I shut off the TV, standing up and started walking upstairs and to my room when I heard a sudden yell of Maverick coming from the other side.
I scanned my eyes around quietly to make sure, no one's up at the time. When I got satisfied, I moved towards Maverick's room.
"I can't believe you're taking that tattletale's side." I heard Maverick growled.
"It's not about taking a side." Thibbault said, venom lacing in his voice.
The door wasn't fully closed and me being the eavesdropper, I was, leaned against the wall and decided to listen to the conversation.
"What's your problem, huh?" Thibbault asked, coldly.
"He's my problem." Maverick gnashed his teeth together and spat out.
"Whatever is it, Maverick." I could feel him clenching his fists in anger. "You shouldn't give those stupid middle-schoolers, the money, to beat your own brother."
"Then he shouldn't barge into my life like that." He replied angrily. "He's not my brother. I hate him. Can't you see, he could ruin our name anywhere? How much of a pathetic and stupid he is? How many times should I have to tell every member of this household that he's not my brother and he could never be one!?"
"Doesn't matter how much you hate him, he will still be counted as your brother. You must save this in your mind perfectly. And you know what? You don't actually hate him. It's just your stupid jealousy." Thibbault said being more outraged as he already was.
