[3] One collective braincell

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"sweet words, sour actions"

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"sweet words, sour actions"

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I look down at my sleeping sister, dreading what's about to happen. I have hockey practice and I need to drop Charlotte off at my dad's. While she is the sweetest child in the entire world, I'm pretty sure she's a banshee deep down. God help the person who wakes her up from her beauty sleep. I stroke her hair and she snuggles into my hand but doesn't wake.

"Charlie," I whisper, trying to make this as painless as possible.

She doesn't move.

"Charlotte," I say a little bit louder.

"Charles." I used the name that always elicits a giggle from her, but nothing.

I decide against waking her and just carry her out of the car into my dad's house. He was supposed to pick her up from gymnastics class tonight, but he was busy working.

"Dad?" I call out.

"Right here" He replies, quieting down when he sees the six-year-old in my arms.

"I've got to go to practice but she's knocked out and I didn't want to wake her"

I hand her over to my dad and leave before he can protest. I love my dad but I value not being yelled at by my little sister more right now. I get back into my car and start driving to the gym. Today I'm just going to work out alone for practice. I need to blow off some steam and the gym is how I do that.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead and decide 2 hours is enough for the day. I take a quick shower and jump back into my car.

I pull up at my house, or rather our house. I live with my four best friends and teammates.

"How was Charlie's practice?" Mason questions, his arm wrapped around his girlfriend. Daisy gives me a quick smile, wearing his jersey displaying his last name across her back 'Young'.

The two of them are high school sweethearts. They met in grade 10 biology and have been inseparable ever since. I've had the misfortune of third-wheeling with them for 5 years, but I love the two of them.

"Good, I think. She fell asleep pretty quickly on the ride home." I answer his question.

"I met her coach," I add, wondering why the fuck I felt the need to tell them that.

"Delaney." I continue, apparently not able to stop myself.

Jesus fuck Sterling, shut up.

Before I can deal with their questions and my own humiliation, I leave, walking up to my room, not missing their dumb giggles.

They're dicks, both of them.

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My mind wanders back to earlier today.

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