Smile

Johnny slammed a book into Tom's chest. "Here. Give this to Laura." For the last day or two, the pair had been trying to come up with ways for Tom to start conversation. They had come up with everything from lost mail (which would involve stealing her mail), to blowing up her mailbox (which would piss off her dad. Neither one of them wanted that), or finding a stupid book or piece of homework that she was "missing." Not a very long list, but once Tom could catch her, he wouldn't have to try anymore. That was the only problem: making her fall for him.

"Dude," Tom said, "wh --"

"I had Val forge Laura's name in there."

Tom flipped open the front cover, and sure enough, there was Laura's name scribble at the top right hand corner. "I really doubt she even reads this guy," Tom commented, sighing. "How do you expect her to believe me?" He closed the book, and studied the front cover. It was Prey by Michael Crichton. Tom was almost positive that Laura wasn't into that genre.

"Just go give it to her. You want to win the bet?" Johnny flipped through television channels, idly staring at the screen. He stopped briefly on VH1, but lost interest pretty quickly.

Tom sighed, and walked out onto the front porch. From where he stood, he could see the television flashing through the front window of Laura's house. "So, you left this in Vandersi's room," he said to himself as he walked down the front sidewalk. "Just thought you'd want it back." God, Tom thought.I sound ridiculous. He tried not to think about it any more than he needed to, and so when he took the first step into her driveway, he might've felt a little too confident.

"Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Spongebob Squarepants! Absorbent and yellow and porous is he!"

Tom smiled to himself, pressing the rectangular, glowing doorbell. It echoed through the house and just moments later, he heard, "coming!" Laura appeared from around the corner, her over-sized glasses (they were fake, he knew that) perched up on her nose. Her hair was disheveled, and he couldn't help but notice how stressed out she looked. "Whoa," she said. "What do you want, Tom?"

Tom looked at her, and smiled. "Hello to you, too. It's a lovely day, isn't it?" When she didn't respond, Tom cleared his throat. "I think this is yours." He held it out for her to take, and she opened the screen door tentatively before grabbing it.

"No, this isn't mine," she said. Tom panicked when she handed it back to her. "I don't read Michael Crichton."

"Are you sure?" Tom stuttered out. "'Cause I thought I saw your name in it." He opened the front cover to reveal the name Valerie had forged. Laura made a strange face, and looked at him.

"Where did you find it, anyway?" She grabbed it from him, and Tom held back a smile.

"School. I had a detention today and it was in Vandersi's room." Only a half lie. He really did have a detention. Tom thought quickly - he had to say something before she closed the door. "What are you doing on Friday night?"

Laura stared at him, clearly confused. The two of them had never gotten along. The most interaction they had when they were kids was the game of kickball. "Uh - nothing. I mean.. why?"

Shit. Think of something, quick! "A couple of us are going to the beach. It'd be cool if you went." Tom hadn't noticed how quickly he was talking until then. "Sort of like when we were younger." He slipped his hands into his pockets - a nervous habit that he had.

"I'll think about it." She didn't seem that interested, but he had to try.

Tom smiled, and nodded. Just play along, he thought. "Good. It'll be fun. Let me know, k?" He stepped off of the porch and tried to restrain himself from booking it across the street. This had to be the craziest thing he'd ever done, but seventy-five dollars sounded really good.

"So?" Johnny asked as soon as Tom walked through the front door.

"She didn't buy it, but she took it anyway." Tom sat beside his friend. He was starting to get annoyed - he hasn't been drunk or laid in almost two weeks. Laura was going to be tough to catch, because she was the most headstrong person that Tom knew.

"Did you ask her out?" Johnny clicked buttons on his cell phone, probably telling Valerie how hot she was, or something.

"I told her we're hanging out at the beach, and that she should come." Tom crossed his arms and sighed heavily, sliding down on the couch.

"Sweet."

Tabatha appeared from the basement, and grimaced when she saw the two boys. "You guys are gross," she whined, making her way to the kitchen. Tom glared at her.

"The bride of Frankenstein's Monster has finally emerged. How was your honeymoon in hell?" For the past few days, he's hardly been able to even look at his little sister without wanting to punch a kitten. She's been on his ass about everything and it's been driving him fucking insane.

"Oh, go fuck yourself," Tabatha yelled from the kitchen.

"Says the whore who does it all the fucking time." Tom took a sip from his coke and threw his feet onto the coffee table placed in front of the couch. Johnny snickered quietly, all while texting Valerie. "God," Tom said. "Don't you ever get sick of talking to her?"

"Yeah. But she bitches at me if I don't." Johnny sighed, and ran a calloused hand through his blue hair. Tom couldn't remember what Johnny's natural hair color was, because it had been dyed so many times in so many different colors. Unlike Tom himself, who had dark brown hair, untouched by the stupid chemicals.

Tom smiled, and made a whipping noise.

"Fuck you," Johnny said. "I'm not whipped."

"Yeah, okay." Tom rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say."

Johnny whacked Tom hard in the chest. "You're a dick."

Tabatha reappeared, holding a bowl of popcorn and two sodas in her arms. "It's your night to make dinner, so don't forget or I'll call the cops and accuse you of neglect." The blonde-haired girl sneered at the two boys, and disappeared back into the basement.

"I'll just spit in your food," Tom called after her. He sighed, and rubbed his face vigorously. "God, sometimes I just want to like, push her in front of a car."

"Yeah, me too."

Tom imagined the scene in his head: the two of them, brother and sister, would be walking down the sidewalk, arguing about trivial things. (He hated those arguments the most.) Tabatha would say something stupid, and without even thinking, Tom would shove her into the road right as a bus was coming. There would be blood, lots and lots of blood, and Tom would just stand there, staring blankly. He probably wouldn't know how to feel.

He loved his little sister, and if someone caused trouble with her, there would be hell to pay. But the girl drove him completely off the wall with insanity and sometimes, picturing her death in his head seemed to make his insanity better.