ninjitsu because Sansei liked your grace.”
“Well, this is one ninja that never learned to walk on a solid sheet of ice in a pair of three-inch heeled Marc Jacob wanna-be boots.” Or to actually use her ninja skills when she was in trouble. This ninja sucked.
“Thank God Iʼm a boy,” Jase said, commandeering my computer chair. He swung it over to the edge of the bed before straddling it backwards. “Thereʼs no way you could get me to strut around in a 3-inch heeled anything.”
“I seem to remember it taking very little to get you in a pair of ruby red stilettos. And you didnʼt strut, you pranced.”
“Scout Donovan, what did I tell you that I would do to you if you ever mentioned that?” I looked as angelic as possible. “I fell down. Hard. I may have even broken my tailbone.”
“So?”
“So, my big brother doesnʼt fight people on the injured list.” That managed to get an eye-roll. I only referred to Jase as my big brother when I wanted something or was trying to get out of trouble. I mean, five weeks hardly counts as older, and the inch of height he had on me was pretty much moot as soon as I put on a good pair of shoes.
“Yeah, just remember this conversation when I give you a proper ass kicking the moment youʼre back to one hundred percent.”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Iʼm looking forward to watching you try.” I might not be able to fight off a homeless man, but Jase was easy. It wasnʼt so much that I was stronger than him, because I wasnʼt, but he was very predictable. It was like fighting a robot.
Jase and I sat talking for a long while about absolutely nothing. Despite its lack of substance, our conversation managed to erase some of the tension that I had been carrying around for the past twenty-four hours. He even managed to distract me from the whole werewolf freak out that I should have been having.
When Angel heard that I was awake she came into my room, bringing a turkey sandwich to guarantee her admittance. I didnʼt realize how hungry I was until I took my first bite. I was famished by the time I popped the last piece into my mouth about ninety seconds later.
“That was so good I think Iʼll go get another one,” I said. “And maybe some chips. And cookies. We have cookies, right?”
“But youʼre gonna take a shower and put on clean clothes first, right?” Angel asked. She was snuggled up to my side. I got the feeling that she had missed me while I was on my impromptu overnight trip. Since I was actually letting her sit like that I must have missed the Munchkin a little bit too. “No defense, but you stink.” This, of course, made Jase nearly fall out of his chair from laughing so hard. I felt embarrassed despite the fact that I had seen the other two people in the room walk around in dirty diapers.
“Thank you for that helpful bit of information, Angel Dear,” I said. “And itʼs ʻno offenseʼ not ʻno defenseʼ.”
“But offense is when our team has the ball.”
“Yes.”
“And defense is when the bad guys have the ball.”
“The other team isnʼt really ʻthe bad guysʼ, but yeah.”
“So, itʼs no defense,” Angel said as if she had just made the most stellar closing argument in the history of litigation.
There is no logic quite like kid logic.
“Makes perfect sense to me,” Jase said. “And the other team is ʻthe bad guysʼ. Especially if weʼre playing those arrogant jerks from Marshall County.” Well, Jase logic and little kid logic are pretty much synonymous.
My brother and sister were almost overly-attentive all evening. Angel insisted on making my second (and, to be completely honest, third) sandwich. She maintained that sandwich making was the same as cooking, which I was not allowed to do under any circumstance. Jase had recorded last weekʼs episode of the newest angsty-upper-class-teens-with-major-issues show we were both hooked on and the three of us piled onto his bed with a bag of chocolate chip cookies to watch
“Well, this is one ninja that never learned to walk on a solid sheet of ice in a pair of three-inch heeled Marc Jacob wanna-be boots.” Or to actually use her ninja skills when she was in trouble. This ninja sucked.
“Thank God Iʼm a boy,” Jase said, commandeering my computer chair. He swung it over to the edge of the bed before straddling it backwards. “Thereʼs no way you could get me to strut around in a 3-inch heeled anything.”
“I seem to remember it taking very little to get you in a pair of ruby red stilettos. And you didnʼt strut, you pranced.”
“Scout Donovan, what did I tell you that I would do to you if you ever mentioned that?” I looked as angelic as possible. “I fell down. Hard. I may have even broken my tailbone.”
“So?”
“So, my big brother doesnʼt fight people on the injured list.” That managed to get an eye-roll. I only referred to Jase as my big brother when I wanted something or was trying to get out of trouble. I mean, five weeks hardly counts as older, and the inch of height he had on me was pretty much moot as soon as I put on a good pair of shoes.
“Yeah, just remember this conversation when I give you a proper ass kicking the moment youʼre back to one hundred percent.”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Iʼm looking forward to watching you try.” I might not be able to fight off a homeless man, but Jase was easy. It wasnʼt so much that I was stronger than him, because I wasnʼt, but he was very predictable. It was like fighting a robot.
Jase and I sat talking for a long while about absolutely nothing. Despite its lack of substance, our conversation managed to erase some of the tension that I had been carrying around for the past twenty-four hours. He even managed to distract me from the whole werewolf freak out that I should have been having.
When Angel heard that I was awake she came into my room, bringing a turkey sandwich to guarantee her admittance. I didnʼt realize how hungry I was until I took my first bite. I was famished by the time I popped the last piece into my mouth about ninety seconds later.
“That was so good I think Iʼll go get another one,” I said. “And maybe some chips. And cookies. We have cookies, right?”
“But youʼre gonna take a shower and put on clean clothes first, right?” Angel asked. She was snuggled up to my side. I got the feeling that she had missed me while I was on my impromptu overnight trip. Since I was actually letting her sit like that I must have missed the Munchkin a little bit too. “No defense, but you stink.” This, of course, made Jase nearly fall out of his chair from laughing so hard. I felt embarrassed despite the fact that I had seen the other two people in the room walk around in dirty diapers.
“Thank you for that helpful bit of information, Angel Dear,” I said. “And itʼs ʻno offenseʼ not ʻno defenseʼ.”
“But offense is when our team has the ball.”
“Yes.”
“And defense is when the bad guys have the ball.”
“The other team isnʼt really ʻthe bad guysʼ, but yeah.”
“So, itʼs no defense,” Angel said as if she had just made the most stellar closing argument in the history of litigation.
There is no logic quite like kid logic.
“Makes perfect sense to me,” Jase said. “And the other team is ʻthe bad guysʼ. Especially if weʼre playing those arrogant jerks from Marshall County.” Well, Jase logic and little kid logic are pretty much synonymous.
My brother and sister were almost overly-attentive all evening. Angel insisted on making my second (and, to be completely honest, third) sandwich. She maintained that sandwich making was the same as cooking, which I was not allowed to do under any circumstance. Jase had recorded last weekʼs episode of the newest angsty-upper-class-teens-with-major-issues show we were both hooked on and the three of us piled onto his bed with a bag of chocolate chip cookies to watch
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