Hopped onto my bad, like a burnt pancake.
Grabbed a pillow, and shoved it over my head like it was some kind of stress helmet. I shouted into it,
"Ah! He had to invite everyone!" The noise in the living room was like a marching band on steroids—loud, chaotic, and potentially deafening.
I yelled into my pillow again, "This is not what I signed up for!" then sat up with a dramatic sigh.
"I have such an annoying brother," I muttered, sounding like some old life guru who's seen way too many family disasters.
But then, a mischievous smirk danced across my face as I fixed my glasses—my blue eyes blinking nervously like a cartoon character about to do something crazy.
I rubbed my hands together like I was about to cast a spell or start a baking show. "Ha… I have an idea.''
Cue the evil laugh.
Remember when I said I could call the cops on him? Yeah, I was about to turn that fantasy into reality.
I dramatically pulled out my phone from the closet, dialed 911, and waited.
DIAL TONE.
Suddenly, I heard sirens approaching like a Hollywood blockbuster—screeching, wailing, and all that jazz.
I squealed with delight—like I'd just won a lottery I didn't even enter.
Just for fun, I tiptoed outside like I was about to take a photo of Bigfoot, and what do I see? Everyone leaving the party, Ha—some disappointed, some happy they'd come, and some just confused.
My brother was standing there, arms crossed, chatting with a cop like they were old friends.
Then, like a scene straight out of a sitcom, Liam leaned in so close to my face I could smell the faint scent of cinnamon and… something else I couldn't quite place. It was nice, but also really annoying.
"You called the cops, small lady," Liam said with an annoyingly cute teasing smile that made me want to roll my eyes into another dimension.
"Lady…! Excuse you, I am a full-blown woman," I snapped, puffing out my chest like a superhero about to save the day.
Liam giggled like I'd just told him the funniest joke ever, then said, "You know you always ruin Jake's fun."
I shot him a glare and smirked. "It's fun to see him so frustrated," I admitted, crossing my arms like I was the queen of mischief.
Then, realizing Liam was way too close—like, uncomfortably close—I snapped, "Don't you think you're too close?"
He laughed, leaned even closer—which I didn't think was possible—and then, suddenly, leaned back like he was on a rollercoaster.
Meanwhile, Jake finished chatting with the cop and turned to face our chaotic little circus—me, Ethan, Liam and Mark.
Jake, eyes blazing like he'd just seen a ghost, growled, "Hey, you little ugly monkey," eyes full of fury, but honestly, I was just trying not to laugh.
I, of course, crossed my arms, looked unimpressed, and muttered, "Whatever," like I was the queen of indifference. Inside, I was thinking, "The audacity of this guy calling me a monkey. Is that his best insult?"
"Anyway, clean this up," Jake ordered, sounding like he was about to conquer the world.
I refused like a rebellious teenager. Nope, not my circus, not my monkeys.
He stared at me like I'd grown an extra head, then, after a long, dramatic pause, I found myself cleaning the living room while everyone else sat on the couch—except for Mark, who was helpful and adorable.
Honestly, he looked so cute doing it. The way his glasses kept slipping down his nose every time he bent—wait, what am I thinking? .
Calm down, girl.
Deep breaths.
I looked at him and blurted out, "Thank you, Mark. You're helpful—unlike my brother." I said it loud enough for him to hear, because, hey, honesty is the best policy.
Mark smiled at me, nodded, and said, "My pleasure, Ayana. It was nice helping you, too."
Suddenly, Mark reached out, brushed a soft hand over a strand of hair from my face, and I felt butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach. I froze like a statue, staring at him with wide eyes.
I just nodded like a robot, blushing so hard I thought I might turn into a tomato. Then, without thinking, I bolted to my room—embarrassment levels over 9000.
I know Mark noticed because he turned to Jake and winked.
"Your sister's nice, unlike you," Mark said, and Jake scoffed like Mark had insulted his pet hamster, not that he has one.
And I was already hiding under my blanket, praying that the universe would swallow me whole.
--------------
After that chaos-filled night, Jake went straight to our mom and told her I called the cops on him.
I could hear her scolding me just a little—only a little—as if I'd committed a mortal sin.
But honestly, I didn't mind. I'd cleaned the whole house, swept, mopped, even found the courage to organize the chaos—so clearly, I was the official family cleaner now.
Yet, despite all that, I was happy. Because I got to see a soft side of someone—Mark, of course.
His big brown eyes, that adorable smile, like he just stepped out of an anime—so cute I almost wanted to put him in my pocket.
Seriously, he's like a fully animated character, and I was just over here gushing like a lovestruck puppy.
Then, out of nowhere, Jake's voice shattered my daydreams. "Ayana!" he called, like he was about to spoil all my fun.
I quickly closed my scribbling book, annoyed that my thoughts of Mark had been interrupted.
I kept my pen poised like I was about to write something life-changing, and snapped, "Yeah, what?"
Without even bothering to look at me, Jake handed me a crumpled wad of money. Just like that.
No explanation.
Just, "Here."
"Buy groceries and cook mom's favorite food," he said, sounding as casual as if he was telling me to buy a loaf of bread. "Today's her birthday."
Wait, what? My mind did a backflip.
Today was her birthday? I'd completely forgotten—probably because I'd been too busy trying to keep my calm, and trying not to be crushing on Mark.
Either way, I felt a tiny pang of guilt.
But the real point was—I remembered when Jake reminded me. I'm a great daughter, obviously.
I blinked, trying to hide my surprise.
"Yeah, sure… but where did you get all this money?" I asked, eyeing the wad suspiciously. It was a lot for just a casual gift.
Jake shrugged, running a hand through his perfectly spiky hair like he was some kind of model in a shampoo commercial.
"It doesn't matter," he said dismissively.
"Just do what I told you to, no more questions," he added, then strode out like he owned the house.
Huh? This boy. Ay, he never ceases to annoy me.
I glared at the money in my hand, then cracked a small smile. Honestly, the thought of Mom being happy—even if just for a little while—was enough to make me grin.
Because, deep down, I knew I was doing the right thing. Well, mostly right.