When I got to my house, aka the chicken house, I found that I left my purple sweater in Haley's car.

I sighed, I'd get it tomorrow. I stepped in and was met by my older brother Cam. His disheveled dark brown hair was so much like mine, think and wavy, but his staying at the middle of his neck whereas mine reached the small of my back.

I smiled and gave him a one arm hug.

"Cam? You okay? You drunk or something?" I saw his cobalt blue eyes were blood shot and he was in his blue flannel pj's.

He shook his head and knelt before me.

"Oh, thy sister, why has beautiful Paula Chy broken up with me? What do I not have that that stupid putrid Cory has? What makes me so vulnerable and not confident? She said she needed a strong boy friend, was I not that muscular? Is that it?"

He was drunk, I could smell his breath. I pushed him back and said, "Calm down, it's for your benefit." Yeah, I know, subtle.

He hugged my legs, and I silently thanked Abby for advising me to wear jeans instead of the skirt I wanted. He then cried silently in my shirt. My new shirt.

I pinched the bridge of my nose in annoyance. This cannot be happening.

I tried to lift him up but he was pretty big standing at 6"3. I frowned and gave up. Then I heard the familiar squawking of Larry, Cam's stupid chicken, also where we got that stupid nickname. The chicken house.

Cam let go of me and hugged Larry.

"Oh Larry, fine wise noble Larry, thy great. My god." Cam knelt before Larry. I blinked as Larry squawked and pooped on Cam's head. Oh, some god.

The next day was Monday. I groaned, Oh no, school. I got out of bed and placed my foot on the furry red rug and bounced lightly to my feet.

I walked to the bathroom, but found it was locked. I banged the door, "Hello? How long is it gunna take?"

I was replied by a muffled moan. "Cam? You okay from yesterday? You sound pretty messed up..."

This time I heard actual words. "Kris, oh god, I feel like a dead flounder." He moaned again.

I rolled my eyes, "Oh what, not feeling like a sick goldfish this time?" I was referring to the last time he got drunk at his friends house. He was so hung over he kept complaining he felt like a sick goldfish.

I heard a chuckle then another groan.

I held my hands up laughing. "I'll go to mom's bathroom, feel better." I walked to the master bedroom, my mom still in her bed. I remember the time my dad used to sleep with her but that was before the crash. I shuddered and entered her bathroom.

It was a cluttered mess. I saw shampoo on the floor and a hair brush on the toilet seat. The shower had a rubbed snake in it and towels were thrown on the wet floor. I sighed then took my time in the shower.

When I got out, steam filled the room; I put on my bathrobe and walked out. I saw my mom was getting up, her short brown hair messy, and her blue eyes tired. I smiled at her as she smiled at me.

I quickly sprinted to my room and opened my closet. My clothes, all neat and folded, the hangers facing the left and my shoes, coordinated by color. Some would call me a neat freak (Ahem Haley), but it's just being organized.

I picked out my dark green short sleeved shirt, with a v neck, to show just a little cleavage. I had on my short white denims and my flats. I heard honking outside and saw Haley was there. I grabbed my blue tote bag and ran out the door.

Haley's eye brows rose as I got in. "Um, I have your sweater."

I smiled in gratitude and took it from her hands. Abby took my hand as I grabbed the sweater and pointed to the number and name Oreo wrote last night. "What the hell is this?"

I blushed and pulled my hand back. Damn, I thought the shower would've washed it off but stupid him, he wrote in sharpie of course. "Nothing, just some idiot guy."

Abby laughed and I noticed her hair. It was straight, slinky straight, cool slinky straight! Wow. "Abby, your... hair!?"

She smirked and said, "Oh yeah, you like it?"

Damn hell I liked it. It was just so cool and laid back and just... beautiful. I smiled and said, "Abby, please tell me that's permanent."

She laughed harder and said, "Only for a month. But I like it so I might get it every month!"

I high-fived her and we sashayed to school. (Of course we were in a car, but we still sashayed-metaphorically, of course.)