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“Now,” Brook lowers her lunch tray just a little stronger than necessary, “will you tell me what the hell is going on?”

I bite into my lip and watch her sit opposite of me, taking a bite of her pizza. She is small, few inches shorter than me, and awfully thin. It worried me, it still does, but I don’t mention it, not after the incident she caused when I did it the first time a few years back. She isn’t actually avoiding food, not that I know of, but it worries me because I don’t know what is happening in her house. In all the years I’ve known her I’ve never been there and all I know is that she lives with her mother who isn’t much of a role model.

Her light brown hair is tied in a high ponytail, few shorter strands escaping and framing her oblong face. Jade green, deep-set eyes look at me from across the table and full pink lips are pursed, determinately waiting for my answer.

I sigh in defeat. I know Brook well enough—when she wants the answer she’ll get the answer, no matter how long she has to wait for it. She’s like a dog with a bone.

“You heard it, Brooks. The car started producing strange noises when we were on the phone. I pulled over and couldn’t do much to fix it, so when Max came I was desperate enough to let him check it out.”

“That doesn’t explain how you ended up on hisdemon motorcycle,” she emphasizes the last part. “Who, under the age of sixty, even uses word motorcycle anyway?”

I want to laugh, but I contain myself. This is typical Brook Taylor for you. Witty and sarcastic. But she’s like that only with me, she never talks to anyone. Not even teachers, just when they addressed her directly and she can’t get out of it. There are also times when she would get bored, or maybe she just loses reins over her control for a few seconds, and that sarcastic side gets out in the open.

“Actually, it would be educated, high class people,” a cold, composed answer comes from behind me. “But you wouldn’t know that, now would you?”

Turning around I come eye to eye with another pair of already familiar almond shaped, dark grey eyes.

“You don’t mind, Lia, right?” Max asks, sitting on my right without actually waiting for a response. “And don’t you mind this little gremlin over there. She is usually moody and all tough on the outside, but soft as a teddy bear on the inside.”

I look at my left where Jeanette sat down. I don’t know where that teddy bear Max is talking about is hiding, but it has to be really, really deep inside because all I can see is her cool, bitchy exterior.

There is also nothing little about her. She isn’t as tall as her twin, but she isn’t far behind either, towering over both me and Brook. And if you ignore her attitude, you can’t deny that Jeanette is really pretty, with olive skin and face similar to her brothers’ surrounded by dark brown locks that slightly pass her shoulders.

“Maybe we do mind,” Brook snaps, turning all the attention back to her. Her cheeks become slightly pink in embarrassment, but she doesn’t avert her eyes.

“Brook.” I calmly put my hand over hers on top of the table. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. We were talking.”

“Oh, great,” Jeanette murmurs sarcastically next to me. “Another one with issues.”

I glare at her, because really, what’s her problem?

Only good thing is that Brook has a staring contest with Max so she doesn’t hear his sister. Or maybe she does, but she simply doesn’t care.

“Keep going.” He waves his hand at us and pops few fries in his mouth. “Don’t you mind us.”

Brook leans over the table into Max. “Can’t really talk about it if the subject of our talk is right here, now can I?”

For a second I think I see his eyes widen in surprise, but then it’s gone, if it even was there in first place, and he swallows before giving her his killer bad–boy smile. “Now you really have to continue. I’m interested in what you have to say about me.”

Brook laughs, actually laughs, and leans back into her seat. “Who said anything about you?” she asks, a smirk still on her face. “We were talking about your sister. I had Chem with her. She may be bitchy but she is a genius. I guess what they say about twins is true, one gets good looks and the other is smart. But look on the good side pretty boy, you won’t need to look far for a tutor with her in the house.” Brook stands from her chair. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to take care of something.”

“What about lunch?” I call after her, worried about staying alone with those two.

“I’ll finish it on my way, mom,” she sasses over her shoulder. “See you later.”

Without another word she turns on her heels and walks away, leaving us looking at her retreating back.

“What the hell was that?” Max asks, still staring at the door.

“She is being a bitch.” Jeanette plays with her food, completely unaffected by what happened. “Maybe it’s PMS or something.”

“She is protective,” I defend her. Brook is my best friend, and although she wasn’t right in treating Max the way she did, I can’t let some miss–high–class talk bad about her. “And, she has… a temper.”

Jeanette rolls her eyes. “More like temper tantrum.”

“Then I guess you two will soon be best friends, Anette,” Max interferes, a wide grin on his lips. “You could use some.”

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