2 Hours and 37 Minutes

Chapter 11

        My brother graduated last year. When he was in school, he was epitome of what you would classify as a golden boy: honor roll, captain of the football team, senior class president, captain of the debate team, and to top it all off he graduated as valedictorian. He had everything going for him.

            I always felt like I was living in his shadow; I was popular by association. Everyone knew me as Jack’s little sister. Nobody messed with me, and if they had the guts to mess with me, they had to deal with Jack. Jack took his role as big brother very seriously; it was no laughing matter. If a guy even looked at me sideways, Jack thought it was his duty to pummel them. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to the moon and back, but every now and then I just need some space to do my own thing, you know? I mean come off it; the state of Georgia already gave me a license, and get real, I can almost vote. I should be able to make the decisions as to who I want to talk to and/or date. This dude is such a tyrant; I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. Like Jack would let a guy get close enough for that. Yeah I think not because you know that would be breathing distance which is highly unacceptable.

            I’m straying off topic. Back to the story. When I was fifteen, just last year, Jack had this friend, Wyatt Peters. Who are we kidding? They were like brothers. They were both on the football team; Wyatt was the star quarterback. I know what you’re thinking: the girl and her brother’s best friend, total cliché I know, but just listen; it gets better trust me.

            I swear Wyatt could have been a model with his blond hair, blue eyes, lean physique, and cocky attitude. He was probably my first real crush. Well he came over practically everyday after school. Jack was always my ride, and naturally I got booted to the back seat. They were a rowdy couple boys let me tell you. They were always throwing the football through the house while Mom looked like she was ready to knock both of them over the head. You know many vases and pictures they broke? I don’t even remember. Wyatt and I would have those little moments when the three of us would be watching a movie or something, and Jack would get up to use the bathroom; we started talking.

            He would do the casual flirting that was just his personality; Jack would always laugh it and smack Wyatt. One day when we were at school, I was at my locker when the bell rang. The hallways were emptying as I was still struggling to get my books out. I’m telling you I had so much crap in that locker; it wasn’t even funny. I finally got my books all situated just as the tardy bell rang. Cursing under my breath, I turned to make a mad dash for homeroom. Slamming my locker door shut with extra force, I ran smack into a wall. A wall that was Wyatt. My butt made contact with the floor, my stuff with flying, and I shrieked in surprise. When my gaze met Wyatt’s, he was staring at me bemusedly.

            “Ahem,” I coughed as I motioned for him to give me a hand up. He nodded and pulled me up. The next thing I knew my back was against the lockers, and I felt Wyatt’s hand on my waist and his breath on my neck. My hand instinctively went to his chest which he liked very much judging by the purring sound he made in the back of his throat. His lips were hovering just mere centimeters from mine. In the back recesses of my mind, I knew that I should’ve pushed him off, but I had a need for immediate gratification. My eyes slipped closed as inch by inch Wyatt moved closer; I could feel his warm breath on my lips. Just a little closer.

            Then on of a sudden Wyatt’s warmth was replaced with cold gust of air. My eyes snapped open in alarm as I spotted Jack who appeared out of nowhere. He cocked his fist back nailed Wyatt right in the face. I don’t know which sound was worse: the scream that escaped my lips or the deafening crack that was the tell-tale sign that Wyatt’s nose was broken. Moaning in pain, Wyatt fell on the ground clutched his bleeding nose. He was lucky Jack hadn’t knocked him unconscious. Jack wasn’t finished with him; he was on Wyatt like white on rice. When Wyatt was down, Jack lunged straddling his waist. I noticed his fist was about to come down a second time, but I jumped on his back screaming for him to stop. My screaming must have brought him out of him rage because he allowed me to pull him off Wyatt. Stumbling to his feet, he looked at me; he must have seen the fear on my face because his clouded eyes started to clear a little, but when his gaze fell back on Wyatt, he lost it.