TYSON CAINE: Book 1 in the Brothers in Arms Series (Brothers in Arms Book 1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Aleya Michelle
the extra responsibilities.
“Well shit, that does sound insane. When do you let your hair down, bro?” he questions, and I wish I had a better answer.
“I’ll be at the next pep rally for sure,” I tell him. Honestly, I’m looking forward to it; I can actually have a release and be a teenager for the night. “If you have nothing planned for tonight, you should come over. We’re having pot roast, and you know Mom—there is always plenty,” I tell him as I realize it has been too long since we hung out.
“Okay, that sounds cool. I’ll shower and drop my gear home after practice and come around six?” he asks, now smiling.
“Perfect. Oh, and bring some of those new sports clothes from your work you mentioned. I’ll check them out,” I add remembering a conversation we had months ago. Shit, I really had been neglecting him.
Jacob works part time at Sports Mart and is always bringing home extra stock. Sometimes, it's clothing, and sometimes, it’s sporting equipment. I practically live in my Nike shirt he gave me when he started.
One thing I’m learning as I run around like the man of the house: Life is a juggling act, but the more balls you add, the more chance you have that they will all come crashing down.
****
After English and history, which were totally dull, it’s time to experiment in chemistry. There is something pretty cool about mixing acids that froth and explode to get the adrenaline pumping. All this schoolwork has definitely worked up an appetite.
Thank God, it’s time to eat . I stroll over and sit at our regular table in the cafeteria. It’s usually where I sit with Brooklyn since most of the jocks sit with the cheerleaders hanging off them at the table next to us.
Brooklyn and I made a pact that we wouldn’t be the cliché high school jerks who single out the less cool, so we don’t sit with the jocks. Sometimes, the computer geeks sit with us, other times the chess guys, and Brooklyn’s friends, mainly Cassie sit with us too.
As I bite into my burger, I think of just how lucky I am to have Brooklyn. She is such a good friend. She is the one thing in my life that stays constant, and her company is easy and enjoyable. When I’m next to her, it feels like I’m in a bubble, keeping me safe from the unpleasant Tyler’s and Chelsea’s of the world.
Right on cue, Chelsea and Tyler walk in, arm in arm. She giggles her ridiculous hyena laugh at something he says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Tyler looks my way and winks. What a jackass . I guess he was with Chelsea last night. I look away and continue eating, just as Brooklyn turns up.
“Hey you,” she states as she takes her seat, grinning her usual smile that calms me.
“Hey, finally you arrive,” I reply, now smiling; hers is infectious.
I notice Chelsea gives her a dirty look and rolls her eyes; such an immature girl, but in typical Brooklyn fashion, she keeps smiling and isn’t fazed by Bimbo Barbie.
We eat our lunch in peace, chatting about anything and everything. I don’t even notice anything else going on in the cafeteria—my focus is on Brooklyn. The way she screws her nose up at the dried bread she bites into. Her luscious lips as she licks away a crumb. Even her hair as it hangs loosely on her shoulders.
After lunch, I make my way to chess club. Yeah, I know it sounds geeky, but it’s pretty awesome. It’s all about strategy and brain power. I am one of the best in Indiana, and we have a match coming up next month that I hope to win. It is a great extra-curricular activity to add to my resume for college applications.
My match buddy is Mike. We get along well. His IQ is out of this world, so his personality is quirky. But I don’t discriminate. I guess I have a variety of friends.
I’m not choosy—if we hit it off, I’ll call you a friend and hang out with you. Unlike Tyler, I don’t care about popularity status, hair color, race, or the car they drive. As much as I hate to admit it
“Well shit, that does sound insane. When do you let your hair down, bro?” he questions, and I wish I had a better answer.
“I’ll be at the next pep rally for sure,” I tell him. Honestly, I’m looking forward to it; I can actually have a release and be a teenager for the night. “If you have nothing planned for tonight, you should come over. We’re having pot roast, and you know Mom—there is always plenty,” I tell him as I realize it has been too long since we hung out.
“Okay, that sounds cool. I’ll shower and drop my gear home after practice and come around six?” he asks, now smiling.
“Perfect. Oh, and bring some of those new sports clothes from your work you mentioned. I’ll check them out,” I add remembering a conversation we had months ago. Shit, I really had been neglecting him.
Jacob works part time at Sports Mart and is always bringing home extra stock. Sometimes, it's clothing, and sometimes, it’s sporting equipment. I practically live in my Nike shirt he gave me when he started.
One thing I’m learning as I run around like the man of the house: Life is a juggling act, but the more balls you add, the more chance you have that they will all come crashing down.
****
After English and history, which were totally dull, it’s time to experiment in chemistry. There is something pretty cool about mixing acids that froth and explode to get the adrenaline pumping. All this schoolwork has definitely worked up an appetite.
Thank God, it’s time to eat . I stroll over and sit at our regular table in the cafeteria. It’s usually where I sit with Brooklyn since most of the jocks sit with the cheerleaders hanging off them at the table next to us.
Brooklyn and I made a pact that we wouldn’t be the cliché high school jerks who single out the less cool, so we don’t sit with the jocks. Sometimes, the computer geeks sit with us, other times the chess guys, and Brooklyn’s friends, mainly Cassie sit with us too.
As I bite into my burger, I think of just how lucky I am to have Brooklyn. She is such a good friend. She is the one thing in my life that stays constant, and her company is easy and enjoyable. When I’m next to her, it feels like I’m in a bubble, keeping me safe from the unpleasant Tyler’s and Chelsea’s of the world.
Right on cue, Chelsea and Tyler walk in, arm in arm. She giggles her ridiculous hyena laugh at something he says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Tyler looks my way and winks. What a jackass . I guess he was with Chelsea last night. I look away and continue eating, just as Brooklyn turns up.
“Hey you,” she states as she takes her seat, grinning her usual smile that calms me.
“Hey, finally you arrive,” I reply, now smiling; hers is infectious.
I notice Chelsea gives her a dirty look and rolls her eyes; such an immature girl, but in typical Brooklyn fashion, she keeps smiling and isn’t fazed by Bimbo Barbie.
We eat our lunch in peace, chatting about anything and everything. I don’t even notice anything else going on in the cafeteria—my focus is on Brooklyn. The way she screws her nose up at the dried bread she bites into. Her luscious lips as she licks away a crumb. Even her hair as it hangs loosely on her shoulders.
After lunch, I make my way to chess club. Yeah, I know it sounds geeky, but it’s pretty awesome. It’s all about strategy and brain power. I am one of the best in Indiana, and we have a match coming up next month that I hope to win. It is a great extra-curricular activity to add to my resume for college applications.
My match buddy is Mike. We get along well. His IQ is out of this world, so his personality is quirky. But I don’t discriminate. I guess I have a variety of friends.
I’m not choosy—if we hit it off, I’ll call you a friend and hang out with you. Unlike Tyler, I don’t care about popularity status, hair color, race, or the car they drive. As much as I hate to admit it
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