My eyes slowly fluttered open, feeling the warm morning sun on my face. I sat up, stretching my arms above my head. I twisted my body to one side then the other to crack my back. I brushed my matted hair out of my eyes before throwing the blankets off of myself.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The shag carpet was soft and cool under my bare feet. I quickly headed toward the bathroom. As I lifted the toilet seat, I reached over turning on the shower.
Kicking my boxers aside, I stepped under the hot stream of water, pulling the curtain closed. I closed my eyes, feeling the muscles in my back and shoulders relax. My long wet hair stuck to my cheeks and neck. I washed my hair and scrubbed my body. Spending a little more time on the "important parts".
With a towel wrapped around my waist, I walked back into my room. I got a fresh pair of boxers from the dresser drawer. I pulled them on then picked up the jeans I'd worn the night before, off the floor. Without shaking out the wrinkles, I stepped into them and zipped up. I did my best to comb the tangles out of my hair and put on a Rolling Stones t-shirt I got out of the dirty clothes hamper.
My older brother Taylor was sitting at the table eating sugared cereal from a purple Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bowl when I walked into the kitchen.
"Happy birthday man." I sat down across from him and took a swig of milk from the open gallon that sat on the table between us.
"Thanks." he replied, wiping dribble of colored milk from his chin.
"Ma still trying to force you into sticking around for a party?"
"Nah, she gave up on that a few days ago. She needs to accept that I'm seventeen now, too damn old for some stupid party." He licked his lips, dropping his spoon into the now empty bowl. I rolled my eyes. Too old for birthday parties, but not too old for Ninja Turtles. I took another drink of milk.
"Zachary! Use a glass!" Isaac, my eldest brother, yelled from the doorway. I jumped, spitting milk out all over the table -- and Taylor. He glared at me in disgust. He grinned, attempted to look somewhat apologetic. Isaac handed me a sponge then picked up the gallon and cereal bowl. He stopped by my chair, giving me a strange look. He leaned in toward me, sniffed me shirt and wrinkled his nose.
"Must be laundry day." He then started toward the sink.
Taylor watched as I attempted to sop up the mess.
"You're just pushing it around." he said, leaning back in his chair.
"Do you want to do this?" I shot back. He shook his head. "Then shut up."
We had to catch a plane back to New York early the next morning. My brothers had both finished packing the night before. I hadn't started yet. I hate packing. I also hate five AM flights.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Much more to come, just have to type it up (:
