The Ashes

Chapter 3

Pic above is Punk Ashton Irwin as Gabriel. Idk about you but ASHTON OMFG
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The sun decides to attack my face at the ungodly hour of 8am. The problem with my room is that I have a skylight because I'm at the top of the house, and it has no curtain. It's even worse in the summer when the sun rises at six or even earlier.

I can never get back to sleep once I've woken up, so I put a hoodie on top of my t-shirt and baggy tracksuit bottoms. Once my hobo look is complete, I pad down the stairs in search of food. My brothers, twins who are unfortunately two years older than me, are already fighting over the chocolate cereal. They always get up at seven thirty on Saturdays because they have football training. Luke manages to grab the packet as James glares at him.

"Fatty." James sulks.

"So mature, guys." They both face me, not having realised I had witnessed their childish squabble.

"Hey Thal." Luke smiles. Him and James are the only ones who are allowed to call me that.

"Who are you playing today?" I ask, more for their sake than mine. They launch into a complex description of the other team's offence and defence, and from what I gather, they're really good.

"You're coming to watch us, right?" James pleads as Luke nods in agreement like an excited puppy. They love it when I watch them, probably because I buy them food after every game.

"Sure, I haven't got any plans." I concede. Kick-off is at ten, which is later than usual, so I have time to get ready. I go with a combination of black skinny jeans, a tight black tank top and an oversized dark green flannel shirt which hangs loosely over my shoulders. I can't be bothered to do anything nice with my hair so I run my brush through it once and leave it as it is, the long bronze waves cascading around my face and down my back. Once I've done my eyeliner I deem myself a human being (more or less) and pull on my black combat boots. The boys are waiting impatiently by the door, checking the time every ten seconds.

"Take your time," Luke calls, "it's not like we have to play a match or anything."

"Your match is at ten, not nine." I remind him. I watch in amusement as the realisation dawns. He turns to glare at James.

"You said we were going to be late!"

"I did not. I just wanted you to leave me some cereal so I ... edited the truth slightly." James snickers.

"Fuck you." Luke smacks the back of his head. They've been acting this way since they were five. You'd have thought that by the age of seventeen they would have matured a bit, but apparently not. I tune out their bickering as I wait the half hour before we actually have to leave.

"Shotgun!" James shouts, the second I step foot outside of the door. He runs off to the dark door and grabs the handle.

"But you love me, right?" I whine, pouting.

"Not that much."

Rolling my eyes, I yank open the back door and settle into the middle seat.

"Seatbelt." Luke orders.

"Yes Mum."

James sniggers and leans to switch on the radio.

"Hands off my baby," Luke instructs, he flips the radio on himself and the melodic sound of the violin fills the car. I raise an eyebrow questioningly at him through the rear view mirror and he scratches his neck with his free hand as he pulls out of the driveway, obviously embarrassed. "Don't ask," he mumbles, switching to his favourite rock station.

"-this is how you remind me of what I really am. It's not like you to say sorry! I was waiting on a different story, this time I'm mistaken, for handing you a heart worth breaking!" Luke wastes no time in singing along to the Nickelback song.