This Is Not What I Was Expecting

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I slept our entire way back to LA.

I was stirred awake once we were finally back in our driveway by Abel, who looked exhausted from driving the last two hours.

"What time is it?" I grumbled, glancing out the window at the dark night sky. It wasn't much different from the skies back in Vegas, except you could actually see the occasional star here and there.

"It's seven-" He broke off, turning his head back to look at the clock beside the radio, "It's seven-thirty." I yawned, sitting up so I was able to see Oliver passed out against the passengers side window.

"I don't want to move." I mumbled, stretching. He laughed, cutting the engine and leaning back against his seat.

"I don't either. But if you sleep any longer, you won't be able to sleep tonight." He replied. I felt my face scrunch up in disgust at his words.

"That sounds like something Mom and Dad would say to me." He chuckled, opening the door and shaking his head after a second.

"I can assure you, Liv, that I can say a lot of things to you that you would never want to hear from your parents." I felt warmth start to spread through my cheeks as he reached back into the car and shook Oliver awake.

After a second of hesitation, I slipped out of the car and joined Abel outside of it, smiling. He returned it, reaching over and pulling me toward him before kissing me.

"Don't blush, Liv. It doesn't suit you." He brushed a strand of my hair out of my eyes and grinned, "You make everyone think you're such a good girl, babe. But you're far from it." I shook my head at him, pulling back.

"Stop." I whispered, but it only added to his amusement.

"Why? Are you getting tur-"

"I already feel like shit. Can you two please save that for the bedroom?" Oliver groaned, laying his head on top of the cold exterior of the car.

My brother mumbled under his breath as he made his way up the driveway, not even stopping to get his stuff out of the Volvo. He looked terrible, even from a distance.

"Hangovers suck." Abel muttered, sighing as he slipped his arm around my waist again. I laid my head against his chest, nodding in agreement.

"They do."

*

My parents bombarded us with questions the second they saw my pale twin walk through the door and rush to the bathroom to throw up.

"We told you not to drink, and what did you do?" Dad shouted, "You drank." Abel and I sat on the loveseat across from them in silence, my head bowing more and more in shame as they went on.

"And you, this is all your fault!" My mom pointed at Abel, "My baby boy wouldn't have ever touched a bottle if it weren't for you." I flew up, feeling Abel's arm tighten around my wrist.

"That's bullshit!" I snapped, seeing Jeremy wince in the kitchen out of the corner of my eye, "Abel did absolutely nothing that forced Oliver's hand. For your information, the first beer Abel ever had was from your perfect baby boy." I could see Abel shaking his head behind me, desperation in his eyes as he tried to pull me back down.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me, Olivia!" Mom growled, "We're only trying to be the best parents we can be, sweetheart. But it's hard when that boy barely graduated high school. He can barely speak when talked to, why?" I shook my head at my mom, turning around to face Abel.

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