Give Me Something, Give Me Anything.

There’s a reason my best friend, Embry, and I made a point to go to every party that my mothers work had. See, both our moms worked at the same office, along with a woman named Lisa Kirch. Lisa was probably the nicest person I’d ever met. She had two sons named Tim and Pat. They were the reason we went to all those parties. Of course, we did see them other times, but that was only because Pat was the drummer in a band called The Maine, who my older brother, John, was the lead singer in. Tim was their manager.

John was, without a doubt, totally against me liking Tim. Embry and I were 17, while Tim was 19 and Pat was 18, so it wasn’t like it was that much of an age difference. But John, being theover dramatic overprotective older brother he is, was furious when he found out that I liked Tim. Of course I couldn’t keep it from him because we were ridiculously close, and he would have figured it out anyway, so I figured I might as well tell him. John and Tim had been best friends since they were kids, so I could see why he was a little skeeved out by it, but I really couldn’t understand why it was such a big deal.

He’d always said, “You don’t want to get involved with a guy like him, Kennedy. You’re too good for him.”

He had also said that dating siblings friends was ‘against the law’.But, you know, that didn’t stop him from dating Embry for three months. Those boys were the reason I didn’t have a problem this year when my mom announced that tonight was their annual Christmas party. At the moment, I had 2 outfits laid out on my bed and I really couldn’t pick one. Finally, coming to the conclusion that I really didn’t know what to wear, I walked the 3 feet down the hallway to my brothers room, knocking lightly on the door.

“John?” I called.

“What?” He called back.

“I don’t know what to wear.”

He laughed and opened his door, “You know, Kennedy, I find it kind of sad that you’re asking your brother what to wear.”

“Oh shut up and come help me,” I said, grabbing him by his wrist and pulling him into my room.

“Hmm…” He said, looking over the two outfits.

“You pick one, I have a text message.”

“Oooh from who?”

“Kennedy.”

“Brock?”

“No, John, I sent a text message to myself. Yes, Brock. What other Kennedy do you know other than myself and him?”

“Shut up.”

I flipped my phone open and hit ‘view’, reading the text message over:
So, are you gonna talk to Tim tonight babes?

I lauged and sent back:
I doubt it, sweetie. John will probably be watching me like a hawk if I’m even around him.

“I think I like this one,” John said, pointing to my gray skinny jeans, black cami and red American Apparel hoodie.

“Good choice. Now I can wear my red flats.”

“Awesome,” He said, attempting to fix a section of his brown hair that was sticking up.

My phone vibrated in my hand and I flipped it open, hitting ‘view’ again:
Oh fuck him. He just doesn’t want to admit that you two would be the cutest thing ever.

I shook my head as John continued to lose the battle with his hair, sending back:
Well whatever happens, happens. I have to get ready. I’ll call you either tonight or tomorrow. Love you <3

John sighed and looked at me, “Will you fix my damn hair?”

“Can I get dressed first?” I laughed.

“Sure. I’ll be back in five.”

I got dressed quickly and flat ironed the bangs of my light brown hair.

“John you can come back in now!” I yelled.

He opened my door and grinned, “Make me gorgeous!”

I laughed, “Freak. You’re already gorgeous. Sit,” I said, pointing to my bed.

He sat down on my bed and I started running my flat iron through his hair.

“So what did Kenny want?”

I shot him a nervous look, “Nothing.”

“Liar. He wanted to know If you’re going to do anything about Tim, didn’t he?” He said, no hint of amusement in his voice.

I didn’t say anything so he sighed, ”I don’t like it, Kennedy.”

“And why not?”

“Because! He’s just…he’s-”

“Exactly like you, John?”

He nodded.

“Then how does that make sense? Why is that bad? You’re a good person, John. And so is he,” I shot, un-plugging my flat iron.

“Whatever. I just don’t want you getting involved with him.”

“Well that’s not up to you, is it?”

I slid my shoes on while John continued to stare at me.

“Hurry up, guys! We have to leave!” My mom yelled up to us.

“Alright!” We yelled back.

I sighed and looked at John, “Ready?”

He nodded and stood up, wrapping his arms around me.

“I love you, John,” I said, hugging him back.

“I love you, too. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“I know, I know. Shut up,” I laughed as we headed down the steps and out the door with our parents.

I hated making John upset with me, but I really liked Tim. Was it really worth it?