The Room Just Down The Hall

“You truly are desperate… Cut that shit out, you don’t need to be stuffing, I never here the end of it from the other guys,”

The voice came from the doorway, which I had made the stupid mistake of leaving open just slightly, and apparently just enough for Zach to take the advantage of, using the chance to invade my room without knocking and pester me with anything he could hook onto. It’s like I baited myself for this kind of thing. I should have made sure to not only close it all the way, but lock the door as well. An expression that just screamed “I pity you,” was paired with his disgusted tone. His un-warm blue eyes were looking at me like he couldn’t believe we shared the same blood and DNA. He had caught me with my hand down my bra, re-arranging the extra padding so that it wasn’t visible over the lacy trim. The pads weren’t really that thick, and at least I wasn’t desperate enough to use tissue…. Hell, they were less thick than the padding in some of the push-up bras that the seniors my brother so adores probably wear! But it didn’t matter to him. All he saw was a chance to make his little sister feel like complete shit, like a raw, high-quality cut piece of steak placed in front of a lion on a silver platter. I just closed my eyes, hoping he would go away and leave it at that, which he did. Before I opened my eyes, I heard his heavy, sloppy footsteps make their way a few paces down the hall to his own filthy room, where he would probably stay until he needed to take a piss or until he ran out of colas. But as soon as I opened them again, I jumped a little and my heart sank at the reflection in the full length mirror. Now in my doorway, my brother had left his friend, one of the only decent ones he had, looking at me not with pity and disappointment, but with sympathy. He looked sad, the corners of his lips turned down and his brows furrowed in a soft way. Even as short as he was, with the way that he was looking at me through those hazel eyes, I couldn’t help feeling small. It didn’t help that of all of Zach’s friends, he appears to be the only kind, intelligent one. The rest were just as cruel as Zach himself, and even if they were a bit attractive, that would immediately become irrelevant once they opened their mouths and said something idiotic. None of their opinions mattered to me, none except for Frank’s, who was now standing in my doorway, watching me stuff my bra. Fuck.

“You know, you shouldn’t listen to him,” He said in that low voice of his that was just gravely enough to give away that he smokes, but still smooth and even with his young age. I didn’t move, frozen in the realization that I was in fact wearing no more than this deep purple bra (with black lace trim) and matching black boy-shorts on my own pale hips. I was unable to speak.

“I mean, he’s just an asshole. That’s all. He likes to toy with your emotions because he’s got nothing better to do with his life. But, Umm, for the record, next time? You should probably close your door. You did make yourself a rather easy target,”

I wanted to ask why Frank even hung out with Zach if he was such an ass, but I didn’t get the chance, my cheeks burning an embarrassing shade of red as the older boy smirked, pulling the door shut as he left to catch up with my brother.

Notes