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It Started With A High Kick

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~ DISCONTINUED ~

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1. I am Not Up
______________ . . . ||BRANDON STONE|| . "Your brother was the pride of that school. Along with being Star Quarterback, he was also a Straight A student and also the valedictorian. And he got himself a full scholarship to Yale." My dad droned on and on, chewing on the same piece of steak for the past fourteen minutes. "And then look at you, always getting caught up in scuffles and detention. I will live forever if I was to wait for the day someone said something relatively good about you." I rolled my eyes. "Don't you think that's a bit greedy? Living forever?" I asked. My mom banged her hand on the table, giving me the eye while my dad narrowed his eyes at me. Their drama never end, does it? "What will your highness take to at least try to be something like your elder brother?" Dad asked sarcastically, putting his hand forward, gesturing to me. I pursed my lips for a moment and then smirked. "I don't know about straight A's and being a model student and all, Dad, but I can give you grandchildren at nineteen like he did." My sister, Lesley, burst out laughing, earning scowls from both my parents. She quickly covered her mouth, cryptically giving me a thumb up while I smirked back at my now quiet parents. My parents, Thomas and Susan Stone, were the proud parents of three children; Landon, me and Lesley. Landon, the eldest and twenty four years old, was now living his dream as the CEO of Stone Industries, and was the hottest Billionaire of America. He was engaged to his childhood sweetheart, Rebecca, and they had the sweetest five year old son, my devil of a nephew, Sammy. I think he takes after me more than his dad. (Don't overthink you guys, Becky's not my type) They were settled in Chicago. I was the second child, the infamous Brandon Stone, the troublemaker, prankster, bad boy, man w***e, all the mean things in the book. I may not be as smart and hardworking as my bruh in academics, but I think I suppress him in sports and in bed. (You get what I mean?)   I was going to be eighteen in a couple of months and to the utter shock of my parents, had managed to reach Senior year without failing any years. (I would have, if it wasn't for the cheat sheets.) The third and youngest was my fourteen year old darling sister Lesley. She took after me as well. She was the most popular kid in Oakwood Middle School and the ace of the Track team. Making me proud darling. That was my family. If you exclude Lesley's dumb rat. ("It's not a rat, Brandon, it's a mouse.") Anyway moving on, it was tradition in my family to list out one of our shortcomings at the dining table. And the scapegoat was usually me, because Landon was perfect and Dad would never say anything that would upset his naïve, innocent baby boo princess. I only got a break when Mom and Dad were fighting. Scratch break, it was entertainment for the two of us. I don't even know why my Dad tries when he is gonna lose the argument anyway AND end up spending the night on the couch. None of us spoke for the rest of the dinner. Lesley was on her phone, me on mine and my parents were quiet. Peace at last. After dinner, I quickly made my way to the bedroom to 'sleep'. Locking the door, I dragged out the dummy I had made myself and tucked it in for bed. I left my phone on the nightstand just in case my Sherlock Holmes of a Dad grew suspicious and called me. They know I sleep like a log and wouldn't wake up so that's fine. I put on low music for good measure. I fished out my spare phone and pulled on my jacket and mask and jumped off the window. I had mastered landing safely from the first floor of my house so it was just fine. I snuck through the side of the house and jumped over the fence to the unoccupied house next door. I crept to their front fence and jumped over it, breaking out in a jog to the end of the block where my best friend William waited on his motorbike. "Do you ever pick up your phone?" He asked as he tossed the spare helmet at me. "Only booty calls." I winked as I put it on, earning an eye roll from him. "I can't believe I am wasting a Saturday on this!" He said as I hopped on behind him. "Me neither. But it's worth it." I smirked. They were bringing in a new Principal. Mr. Somerfield, our former principal, left after a little prank of ours. And it was our duty to give our new Principal a grand welcome! .  .  . The annoying sounds of horns woke me up. I squinted at the window and cursed.  "F*ck them!" I threw the blanket off of me. I was stark naked. My eyes widened and I turned around. Phew. No one there. I was probably too lazy to change last night. I yawned, stretching my arms and shaking my legs before walking over to my closet to get myself a pair of shorts. I walked out the door, not bothering to brush or freshen up. My parents weren't there. Only Lesley was. She had her headphones on and was doing her homework. She doesn't entirely take after me, after all. I walked over to her and pulled off her headphone from one ear and yelled, "Where's Mom and Dad?" "Eww gross Brandon!" She jumped off from her chair, scrunching her nose as I burst out laughing. "Go brush, you pig!" She screeched. I laughed more as I opened the fridge, pulling out a jug of orange juice. "Do you have any idea how yuck this taste in freshly brushed mouth?" I asked. She nodded, rolling her eyes. She gathered her stuff quickly off the table and turned to leave. "So where are they?" I asked, drinking the fruity heavenliness directly from the jug. "Outside, talking to the new neighbors." She said. "Dad asked you to go help them move stuff when you are up." "I am not up." I rolled my eyes, climbing on to the counter. "Their daughter is pretty cute." She winked as she left the room. I paused and then smirked. It's only polite to help the neighbors. I gulped down one more mouthful of juice before heading back up to my room.  I quickly brushed my teeth, jelled my chestnut bird nest and sprayed on some deodorant before throwing on a black hoodie and slipping on my sneakers. I jogged down the stairs and out the door. "Brandon!" My mom called out to me as soon as she saw me walk out the door. "This is Brandon, our son. He goes to your school." My Dad patted my back as he introduced me to a lady, probably in her late forties. "Hello ma'am." I held out my hand, all gentlemanly. "Hello Mr. Stone. I am Billie Wilkins, your new neighbor and Principal." She took my hand. Uh oh. My eyes widened for a fraction of a second before I gave her my killer smile. "Welcome to Oakwood and Oakwood High, Ms. Wilkins." I said. "Thank you very much, young man." She smiled tightly. She is already giving off uptight vibes. "Go on. Help them with the boxes." My Dad said, gesturing at the many boxes scattered on the pavement. "No no no. That won't be necessary." She said. "Lily and I can do it." Lily. Nice name. But my Dad insisted and I got down to bringing in the boxes. I had brought in two boxes while the three chatted but I still hadn't seen the cutie yet. I was about to walk out the door for the third one when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I turned around and looked up. And there she was; gorgeous blue eyes and the nicest shade of red curls. Yep, she looked pretty good. Then I looked down. No rack and no back. What a waste! Well, you can't be too perfect, I guess. "Hey, the name's Brandon. I am the neighbor." I waved. She looked at me confused for a minute and walked down the stairs. She looked at my hand still held up in a wave and back at me. I quickly pulled it down. She gave me a smile and walked out. Wow, attitude much? I walked behind her. I was about to pick up a suitcase when she swatted my hand away. "No, it's fine. I will carry it." I said. She shook her head and pulled at it. I pulled back and she back. We pulled at it back and forth until the zipper came undone. And all the clothes inside fell to the ground. Under wears! Oops. (Gotta say, she got really good choice.) She looked at me wide-eyes while I grinned sheepishly. I could hear my Dad saying something in the background. Her shock turned to anger and the next thing I know, she let go of the suitcase and raised her leg, kicking me right under my chin. (I am 6'4. She's what 5'2?)  The impact was so bad that I bit my tongue, lost my balance and fell backward, on to the rest of the boxes. I squinted up at her. I couldn't clearly see her as she stood over me, the sun glaring behind her head. Is this what they call 'seeing stars in the daytime'? . . . _______________

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