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MidReal Story
My Brother's Hot Bestie
Scenario:My brother's best friend is Gabe, and Gabe is really hot, but the thing is, we don’t get along, so I simply never talk to him. Simple, right? No! It's so fucking hard to stay away from him! For one, he's in EVERY SINGLE CLASS with me at school, and he's always with my brother, and they're always at the house playing video games. Another thing that annoys me is when he talks in that deep, tired, HOT ASS voice. God, I hate him; God, I hate how heat pools down there when he talks to me in that tired voice, and all he says is “mmm” and “mhmm.”
One Saturday, I had plans to go to the pool and hang out with my friends. Thank god I wouldn’t have to be around Gabe.
But there was a problem: I couldn’t find my hair tie, and at the pool, I didn’t want to get my hair wet, so I wanted my hair tie. I asked my brother, and he said that Gabe was last seen with it.
I rolled my eyes and went to find him. Did this motherfucker dare touch my stuff?
Then I saw him in the kitchen making a snack, and I saw my hair tie on his wrist… that means one thing…
Create my version of this story
Scarlett Harlow
high school student, attracted to Gabe, younger sister of Alex, long brown hair, green eyes, determined and conflicted.
Alex Harlow
high school student and brother of Scarlett Harlow, friends with Gabe since childhood, protective of his sister.
Gabe Weston
high school student and best friend of Alex Harlow, object of Scarlett's attraction, tall with dark hair and deep voice, laidback and unaware of Scarlett's feelings.
I had to get my keys out of my locker.
Walking down the hallway, I searched the crowds for a familiar face.
There he was.
Oh gosh, my heart started racing just looking at him.
Gabe Weston.
He was a junior like my brother Alex and also his best friend.
They had been friends since the second grade and now they were on the varsity football team together.
My first reaction when I saw him was to run and jump into his arms, but I couldn’t do that.
For one thing, he didn’t know I existed.
Okay, that’s not entirely true.
He knew who I was and said hi when he saw me, but I was just "Scarlett Harlow, little sister of Alex."
Two, I would die of embarrassment if I did that.
Three, he didn’t know I existed as a girl.
See, from the time I was thirteen, I had been attracted to him.
I gripped my backpack straps tighter as he walked toward me.
He had on his football jacket, which hung loose on his broad shoulders.
My throat went dry when he lifted his hand to wave back.
I stayed rooted by my locker, not darting away like I usually did.
He was only a few steps away now, close enough that I could smell the cologne he wore.
My fingers fumbled with the combination lock, missing the numbers twice.
I heard his footsteps slow beside me.
"Hey Scarlett," he said in that deep, tired voice of his that made my stomach flip.
My hands stilled on the locker door, my eyes locked on his wrist.
I stared at my hair tie wrapped around it.
His head turned to look in the direction he was walking, and I followed his gaze.
He was looking at Alex, who was standing by his locker.
I glared at his wrist again.
What was he doing with my stuff?
He was leaning against the kitchen counter eating a sandwich when I got home from school.
He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that stretched over his wide chest.
I stood there for a second, taking in the sight of him.
He looked up, catching me staring.
I jerked my eyes away, but not before seeing the eyebrow he raised in question.
He went back to eating his sandwich.
I marched up to him, pointing at his wrist.
"That’s mine."
He glanced down at it, swallowed what he had in his mouth, and shrugged.
"Found it in the living room."
His voice was deep and tired sounding like he was just waking up from sleep.
I stood there for a second, watching his muscled forearm flex as he lifted the sandwich to his mouth.
My hair tie was snug against his tan skin.
I forced myself to step forward, clearing my throat.
He glanced down at me, his eyes dark blue and sleepy looking.
"Can I have it back?"
I asked, holding out my hand, palm up.
He slid the elastic band off his wrist, the movement unhurried.
I waited for him to drop it in my palm, but he didn’t move.
His eyes were on mine, and I could feel them burning into my skin.
He twirled the band around his fingers, not making a move to hand it over.
The kitchen suddenly felt way too small.
I was too aware of how close we were standing.
My eyes darted to his mouth, and I swallowed hard.
"What’s the rush?" he asked in that deep, sleepy voice of his.
I reached for the hair tie, but he lifted his arm, holding it just out of my reach.
His height advantage forced me to step closer, my chest almost touching his stomach.
