I didn't sleep well that night. Apart from a really bad mood, I heard some people constantly walking around the house. Sometimes there were just low voices talking, sometimes clicking of doors, but I was sure of one thing - some of my brothers weren't sleeping at night.
I could think a bit and I decided I had to change something in my way of being. I couldn't be such a shrinking violet and care about every little thing, because it has a bad impact on my mental health. If it stays like this, I'll get depressed. I decided to take Will's advice and feel comfortable, at least to try...
In the morning, I had breakfast while still being in my pajamas - short sweats in hearts and a pink T-shirt. My hair was messy and I probably had a pillow imprinted on my cheek. I hoped that no one will be in the kitchen, like yesterday, but fate wasn't merciful for me and I met Dylan. He was drinking coffee and doing something on his laptop. When I came to the kitchen, he gave me a look, a bit longer than usual.
"Hi," I said. I wasn't over the moon, but I didn't want to be rude. If we live together, we can greet ourselves in the morning, just like normal people do.
"Hi," he murmured, coming back to ignoring me. At least he answered.
I didn't see our helper anywhere, so I made breakfast by myself. It took me a while to find a bowl and a package of cornflakes and Dylan didn't offer any help. He had to see how I was opening all the cupboards, searching for them...
I sat by the table and started to eat. A moment later, the helper came to the kitchen and started whine about me not calling her to prepare breakfast for me. It took me 5 minutes to persuade her that it wasn't a big deal to pour some milk to the bowl.
"Change into some sporty clothes" commended me Dylan, when he noticed I finished my food. I was so surprised that I started choking. I quickly managed to prevent myself from dying and gave him an answer which I'd come up with last night.
"You don't have to babysit me, I can take care of mysel..." I started, but he cut me off.
"You've got ten minutes."
And he closed his laptop and left.
Not having any other choice, I went to my room and took out my grey sweats and white, tight T-shirt. I liked the sport but I have never had much brush with it. At least, apart from PE classes at school. I have never been to the gym. The thought of me going there with Dylan was a bit scary for me. Dylan was a bit scary.
Especially, that deep down inside I knew that he didn't want to spend time with me.
I tied my hair in a neat ponytail and went downstairs, where he was already waiting for me. It turned out that the gym he was talking about was another huge room in our house. There were windows instead of walls and a great amount of very expensive equipment.
Is it normal to have such a hip gym in your own house? Even if you are rich? This kind of stuff didn't even fit in my head.
Dylan wore a baggy vest (that was showing more of his muscular body than covering) and dark shorts. He also had some funky shoes that probably cost more than my whole wardrobe. This time his hair was tied at his neck.
I felt uncomfortable again. Ok, my clothes were pretty and tidy, but casual, comparing to those worn by my brothers.
Dylan at the gym felt very confident and I could see it from the very first moment. He put the music on and started to do some lazy stretching. I was standing there like an idiot.
"Dylan.." I started, forced to speak up, so he could hear me "I-I have never been at the gym before. I don't know what to do here."
I didn't want to be such a lemon, but really... I preferred not to make a fool of myself by pretending to be knowledgeable and then end up with a sprained shoulder. I noticed that Dylan rolled his eyes, but he came to me, put his strong hands on my shoulders and pushed me to the treadmill.
"For the beginning" he murmured and set things up.
I have never been a huge fun of running, but I had to admit that it was quite nice, especially that the machine was located in front of the window and there was a view at the green garden and trees which made me calm. I mean, till I started to have problems with breathing. I risked and slowed down a bit and loud beeping of the buttons from the panel betrayed me in front of my brother. He didn't comment it though.
After a while, I stopped. I was thirsty and noticed bottles of water in the corner. I headed there. Dylan didn't pay attention to me, because he was too busy with pulling up on a bar. I was drinking and staring at him, thinking about the fact, that this muscleman is my older brother.
At some point, he stopped to take a breath and looked at me. Tiredness shown on his face quickly changed into a smirk that made me blush.
"What's up, little sis, wanna try?" he asked and I, being as stupid as I am, believed it's a good chance to break through my timidity and nodded my head.
I came to the pull-up bar, which was too high for me to reach it, so Dylan caught my waist with one arm and gave me a boost without any problem. He was sweaty and smelly, but I wasn't any better. I caught the bar and hanged.
"Now you have to pull your body up," he said slowly as to someone educationally subnormal, but I just rolled my eyes. Dylan leaned against the wall and watched me with amusement. Holy moly, it was harder than I thought. In the end, my struggle was fruitless.
"You are not able to do even one?" he asked with disapproval, shaking his head.
"She's only fourteen," some other voice broke in. I looked at its source. Shane just joined us.
"And? When I was fourteen..."
"You were doing many things which I hope Hailie doesn't do."
Both brothers laughed, exchanging knowing looks.
I let go of the bar and luckily, I didn't fall, smoothly landing on the ground.
"Besides, instead of mocking her, you could teach her something useful, like self-defense," Shane added, getting closer to the bench pull. He was also muscular, although a bit less than Dylan. He didn't wear any T-shirt at all. On his chest, there was a tattoo.
"With this bicep she won't defend from anyone" snorted Dylan, gripping my arm to prove his words. I hissed, because it hurt me a bit and he let me go, rolling his eyes.
"I learned self-defense at school." I blurted out without thinking.
Two years ago we had additional PE classes which were preordained because of one girl from our neighborhood, who'd been attacked.
"Really?" Dylan murmured, ready to make fun of me. I nodded my head, deciding not to show off, but it was too late. "Show us what you learned then."
I stood in front of him without any idea of what to do. He would have to attack me first, so I could defend, but I didn't want to encourage him.
"They taught us how to defend ourselves, not how to attack," I said finally with clear doubts in my voice.
Dylan tilted his head and smirked.
"I don't want to make you cry, little sis," he warned me, having fun. And me, being me, I spontaneously headed towards him. I didn't think, I just wanted to wipe out his smirk. And he annoyed me with this whole "little sis". I didn't know what to do, so at the last moment, I decided to hit him, not fully thinking about the consequences.
However, there were no consequences, because Dylan's surprise didn't last long. He tackled my punch, held me and turned me around, so now my back was touching his belly and I couldn't even move my hands. I tried to remind something from the classes, now I was in a perfect position to make use of my coach advises, but I didn't know what to do anyway. I tried to kick him, but he tackled it again with his leg and then he caught my wrist, wrenching it painfully. He stopped holding my waist and I fell to the floor with a loud whine, trying to make him let go of my hand.
"It hurts!" I cried out, when nothing else worked. That's when he mercifully loosened his grip. Before I managed to get up, I had to take a breath and massage my wrist and I just looked at Dylan's back, when he was leaving the gym, shaking his head, accompanied by Shane's loud laugh.