by Kai Michaels
Breaking the Bro Code
By Kai Michaels
Copyright © 2012 Kai Michaels
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of publisher.
For information regarding permission contact:
Kai Michaels, 1060 Fairway Place, North Salt Lake, UT 84054
To all the bros in my life whose endearing bro traits inspired this book
Chapter one
The date had been just okay—maybe a little less than okay. Well, to be completely honest, it was a huge let down. When Logan first asked me out, I was delirious with excitement. I mean, Logan Sparks and me? I knew I was the envy of dozens of girls that night. Maybe I had built it up too much. But with Logan’s reputation, I guess I expected him to be so much more. Instead, it was a night of pizza, with only the toppings he chose, and then an action movie with the mega, family-sized, greasy popcorn, which he ate almost completely himself, and to top it off, the doorstep scene.
“So, tonight was awesome, don’t you think?” He asked, moving in closer. That smile told me exactly what he was planning. It was a confident smile, like he’d successfully done this a thousand times before. Several small pieces of popcorn were wedged between his teeth and I could still smell the butter on his breath. Had there been a moment, it would have been ruined. But there was no moment, at least not for me.
I’m sixteen and I’ve never kissed anyone. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I haven’t had the chance. My friend Keegan tried almost weekly last year before I moved. It’s just that I’ve been waiting for the right guy. Keegan wasn’t that guy.
When Logan asked me out, I thought for sure he was the one. I had admired him from across the room in English all year, but had never gotten up the nerve to talk to him. When he approached me I was speechless. But standing there on my porch staring at that popcorn grin, I knew he was definitely not the one.
“Yeah, it was a nice evening,” I lied. “I haven’t seen a movie with so many people getting shot or blown up in a long time.”
“Pretty sweet, huh.” He moved in even closer, putting his hands on my waist. My first fear was that he would leave greasy fingerprints on my clothes—my new clothes I had bought with my own money just for this date. What a waste.
He closed his eyes and leaned in. My heart leaped into frantic mode. I tried to step back but was already up against the door. Suddenly, the light of the doorbell caught the corner of my eye. I slid my hand over and pressed it. Logan’s eyes popped open.
“Oops,” I said. “Sorry, I must have hit that with my arm.”
A moment later, a big, wrinkly face appeared pressed up against the long glass window next to the door.
Logan jumped back, gasping. “Whoa! What is that?”
“Sorry, that’s just my grandpa. He likes to see who’s at the door before opening it. You know, in case it’s some kind of maniac.” I let out a little laugh. Logan didn’t laugh. He just stood there staring at Grandpa’s distorted face smashed against the glass. Finally, the door opened.
“Who’s out there?” He grumbled. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Hi, Grandpa, it’s just me, Maddie.”
“Hello, sir,” Logan said.
My grandmother showed up right behind him. “Close the door, Earl. You’re letting in moths.”
“Well, I’d better go,” I said.
I couldn’t tell if Logan was still freaked out by Grandpa or if he was disappointed that he didn’t get his kiss. Either way I was glad the night was over. The other girls could have Logan. He definitely wasn’t for me. Unfortunately, I was beginning to wonder if there was anyone for me.
Mom and dad were still out at a dinner party and my ten-year-old brother was in the family room playing a video game.
“Would you like some soup, sweetie?” Grandma asked.
“No thank you, I had pizza earlier.”
“Pizza is not real food. Come in and have some soup with your grandmother.” I knew she would just continue asking until I finally gave in.
“Okay, just a little,” I said.
“I need some soup, too,” Grandpa called out.
Grandma shook her head. “Earl, you’ve had your dinner.”
Grandpa mumbled something and headed to his room.
They were both in their eighties. They moved in with us two weeks ago. Grandma hasn’t driven a car in years, and with Grandpa’s poor eyesight he couldn’t renew his license. Now Mom drives them everywhere they need to go. Since they have trouble with stairs, they took over my room forcing me to the basement. I was still upset about that. Last Spring when we bought the house, I was given the first choice of rooms. I chose the one with the largest closet. It also had it’s own bathroom. It was perfect. My brother Cam got stuck with a room in the basement. However, with Grandma and Grandpa here, I was now stuck with the small room in the corner of the basement. Up until now, we had been using it as a storage room. Mom and Dad had promised to clean it out, but there were still several boxes lining one wall.
We moved in the first week of April, just in time for cheer tryouts. Making the team gave me an instant group of friends and things to do. We practiced every day during the summer and attended a weeklong cheer camp where I roomed with Kennedy. She quickly became my best friend.
Kennedy is loud and obnoxious, but she knows everyone. At times she can be a little spacey. She drags me to parties and introduces me to tons of people. She definitely made my transition to a new school easier.
“Grandma, what’s in this soup?” I asked. It had a strange taste to it.
“Oh, a little bit of everything: potatoes, celery, corn, pickles, and of course love.”
Pickles. That’s what it was. Grandma’s famous for not wasting one bit of food. If you don’t eat it for dinner, chances are it’s going to end up on your sandwich the next day or in your spaghetti sauce or in your soup. She’s always trying to help out with the cooking. Mom says it helps her feel like she’s not a burden. I’m always nervous when I open my lunch. So lately I just go out to lunch with Kennedy.
I faked a few sips and then poured it back into the pot when she left the room. Then I went to the family room and sat on the couch to read my texts. They were all from Kennedy, asking about my date. I promised her that I would call the moment it was over.
“Hi Cam,” I said. My brother was playing video games with his friend Zane. Cam is your typical ten-year-old brother who believes his only purpose in life is to master video games and to torment me. His evil little friend, Zane, lives down the street. When those two are together it is trouble.
“Isn’t it kind of late for you two to be hanging out?” I asked.
“We’re having a sleep over.”
Great, I thought. That was all I needed. Last week they had a sleep over. At two in the morning I woke up to find them in my room with a flashlight reading my diary.
“Well, stay out of my room this time. It’s off limits,” I said. I set my phone on the coffee table and went back to the kitchen for a drink. I still had the pickle taste in my mouth. When I returned my phone was gone. “Where’s my phone? Cam, did you take my phone?”
“I’m not sure. What does it look like?” The two worms giggled.
“Hand it over!”
Cam tossed it to me. “Don’t worry. We answered it for you while you were gone.”
I quickly opened my sent messages and read, “Yes, we made out like crazy.”
“You little freak!” I yelled.
“Hey, we we
re just trying to help.”
I grabbed the remote, turned the television off and tossed it to the corner of the room.
“Hey, we were on the last level!” Cam screamed. He scrambled on his hands and knees for the remote.
I pressed speed dial number three and waited.
“Hey, Kennedy. I’m back.”
“No, that was my idiot brother. He took my phone.” I went into the living room for a little more privacy. Kennedy wanted every last detail, down to the pizza toppings.
“So you really didn’t make out?” She asked. “That’s so weird.”
“What do you mean? It was a first date.” I knew that didn’t mean anything to Kennedy. She makes out with everyone on the first date, if not before.
“Well, it’s just that I know how Logan is,” she said.
I explained that he did go for a doorstep kiss but that I didn’t let him.
“Why not?”
“I just don’t think I like him, at least not that way.”
There was a pause on the phone. I could tell Kennedy was trying to process that.
“I don’t get it,” she finally said. “What does liking him have to do with anything?”
Kennedy went on to tell me all about her night with RJ. They went to dinner with three other couples and then went back to RJ’s house to watch a movie. “While we were deciding on a movie to watch, the guys started to play a video game. I don’t know what it is with guys and video games, but an hour later they were still playing. They were so into it, we finally left. I don’t even think they knew we were gone. Sometimes guys are so lame.”
I agreed and told Kennedy goodnight. With cheer practice every morning before school, I loved the weekends when I could finally sleep in. I went to my room, locked the door and crawled into bed.
Chapter two
It was seven o’clock in the morning when I woke up to something moving under my covers, down by my feet. I immediately kicked and screamed before leaping out of bed.
Slowly, a lumpy shape made it’s way out from under my blanket. It was Zane, rubbing his head where I had kicked him.
“You pervert! What are you doing in my bed?” Just then Cam ran in and shot his friend with a Nerf gun.
“Gotcha!” He yelled.
“Stop!” I screamed. I slammed my door shut, holding them hostage. “What were you doing in my bed, Zane?”
“I was hiding.” He looked at me like it was a logical answer.
“Yeah, we’re having a war,” Cam added.
“Listen, you freaks. This is MY room! You do not come in here, EVER! Plus, I locked the door last night. How did you get in?”
“Easy.” Cam showed me the long nail he used to unlock my door.
I kicked them out and fell back onto my bed. My first chance in a week to sleep in and it was ruined. I tried and tried to get back to sleep, but I was so wound up that it was no use. Finally, I got dressed and went upstairs.
“Good Morning, Madds,” Mom said. “You’re up early.”
“Yeah, thanks to Cam and Zane. Can we please outlaw sleepovers at our house with those two?”
“I’m sorry,” Mom said. “Zane keeps him busy. Otherwise, he’s bothering your grandparents.”
I sat down at the table and Mom brought me a plate of pancakes and sat down next to me.
“How was your date with Logan?”
I told her all about it. I tell my mom everything. Kennedy is my best friend, but my mom is my best friend whose advice is actually useful.
“Trust me, Madds,” She said. “You made the right decision. You don’t want to kiss just anyone.”
“What? Who’s kissing people?” Dad asked, coming through the kitchen door with the newspaper.
“No one, Chad, no one is kissing anybody.” Mom replied. “Here, have some toast.” She stuffed a piece of toast into my dad’s mouth. He sat down in his usual place at the end of the table.
Just then, the two little maniacs ran up the stairs and into the kitchen yelling.
“Hey, you two, slow down,” Dad said. “And keep the voices down. You’ll wake up Grandma and Grandpa, and I just need a little break from—”
“It’s like a tornado in this house,” Grandpa shouted, walking through the doorway.
Dad shook is head and mumbled, “Great.”
Grandma walked in a minute or two later. Her hair was a mess, sticking up all over.
“Good morning!” Mom said. “This is wonderful. We can all sit down and eat together.”
Grandpa and Grandma sat down on one side of the table and Cam and Zane sat down next to me on the other. Mom sat at the end, facing Dad. Cam grabbed the entire stack of pancakes with his hands and then held them in front of Zane, who took three, but then put one back on the plate. Cam took two and put the rest back on the plate in the middle of the table.
“Hey, don’t touch them all!” Grandpa complained.
“Oh, I’m sure they’re fine,” Grandma said. She stabbed a pancake with her fork and plopped it onto his plate.
“I’m not eating those,” Gramps said, pushing the plate away.
Cam and Zane dug into their food as if nothing happened.
Zane ended up staying the entire weekend with us. I spent as much time in my room as possible. I begged my dad to install a new lock on my door, but he’s not very handy and simply told me he’d look into it.
By the time Monday came, I was excited to get out of the house and back to school.
Kennedy has her own car and drives me to school every day. I offer to pay her gas money, but she never takes it.
“Okay, Maddie, this week we are finding you a guy.”
“That’s fine with me,” I said. “But I want someone nice. I’m not just looking for someone to kiss. I want someone who wants to get to know me first. Someone who, when he does get to know me, is still nervous about that first kiss. I want to look into his eyes and see that he likes me without him saying anything. I want the thrill of feeling like he likes me but not knowing for sure. And I want him to feel the same about me. Both of us will be too nervous to be the first to admit our feelings. It’s that moment before the actual moment that I want. Do you know what I mean?”
“Um, no. I have no idea what you mean. Start over and I’ll try to follow along.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I’m not sure exactly what I mean either.”
We got to school and headed for math. Kennedy hurried in and grabbed the only seat next to Zach. She always ditches me for boys, especially cute boys. I scanned the room for empty seats.
Logan was in the far back corner. I chose a seat on the opposite side of the room, up front by the door. I’m sure he was happy about that. Since I shut him down Friday night, I was confident that he had lost all interest in me. At least I hoped he had. I glanced over just to see what he was doing. As I did, our eyes met. He pointed to the empty chair next to him. I turned away pretending I didn’t notice.
The bell rang and a boy named Carver came running through the door and slid into the seat next to me. Mr. Walsh, our teacher, was nuts about punctuality. If you were late, you were the first chosen to do a problem on the board.
“Well, Mr. Nelson, let’s have you come up and take problem number one.”
Carver sighed heavily. As Mr. Walsh picked four other students, Carver leaned over to me and whispered, “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck!” I whispered back smiling. He smiled back.
I didn’t know Carver very well but a chill shot down my spine when he smiled at me. And he smelled good, too. I think it was his cinnamon gum. He went up and did the best he could with the problem. His answer was nothing close to the answer I got, and I was pretty sure mine was right.
I couldn’t help notice how Carver’s tight tee shirt displayed some pretty impressive biceps. He rubbed his hand through his thick wavy brown hair as he squinted unconfidently at his answer.
Once everyone finished, Mr. Walsh asked each of them to explain their solutions to the c
lass. “Mr. Nelson, tell us how you arrived at x = 127.”
Carver fidgeted, looking at his work like he wasn’t sure exactly how he arrived at his answer.
“Well, first I figured I could simplify this by pulling an x from each side.”
“Wrong,” Mr. Walsh said. “Try again.”
Carver stood back and rubbed his chin. “Right. Maybe I should have divided each side by the five . . . no, I mean multiply by five.” He erased and tried something else, then erased again.
“Do you have any idea what you are doing, Mr. Nelson?”
Carver made one last effort and then stepped back. “No, sir. Not a clue.” The class laughed and Mr. Walsh dismissed him. Carver fell into his seat and leaned over to me. Next time, wish me more luck. Again, that cinnamon breath.
“Ms. Hunt, maybe you would like to show us how you would solve this problem,” the teacher said, turning to me.
“Um, okay.” I walked up to the board and wrote down, step by step, my answer to the problem.
“Congratulations,” Mr. Walsh said. “Perhaps you can tutor Mr. Nelson on his assignment. And preferably before tomorrow’s test.”
I felt bad for solving the problem so easily. “Sorry,” I mouthed to Carver.
Just before the bell rang Mr. Walsh passed out the study guide for the exam.
As I put my math book into my backpack, Carver said, “Thanks for showing me up. You know I was just about to get the answer.”
“Oh, totally. I could tell,” I said. “You were all over that problem.”
“Yeah, I mean there are only so many numbers it could be, right? Eventually I’d get to the right one.”
I couldn’t help grinning. I’d never talked to Carver before. He was funny and comfortable to talk to.
“So, can I take you up on that?” He asked.
“On what?”
“On tutoring me. You know, since Mr. Walsh said it. That makes it kind of like an assignment.”
Was he flirting with me? I couldn’t tell, but I liked it. We walked out of class together.
“Well, I’d hate to miss an assignment,” I said.
