Page 73 of Jace
Hah, that rhymes.
“Hello there, baby bro. How's it going down there? You look slightly unhinged.” J's stupid head appears in front of my lovely view of the sky, his identical counterpart following suit.
“Ah. You okay? It wasn'tthathigh, right? I've jumped off higher places.” Mase smirks at me.
God. He should hang out with Lamar more; they even sound alike.
“Why are you smiling like a lunatic when you just fell off a building?” J asks, tilting his head.
“I think we broke him. You totally broke him, bro.”
“Nuh-uh. You literally pushed him off a roof. Our little star quarterback baby brother. You know Dad’s gonna be pissed, right?” J responds.
“Please. He's a professional football player. He's used to getting tackled and lying in the mud.”
“Getting tackled is nowhere near in the same vicinity as being thrown off a damn roof.”
“I didn’t throw him, fucktard, I merely gave a little push,” Mase grunts, frowning at his twin.
They are honest to God fighting now, leaving me lying here like a piglet.
“Hello? You gonna help me up or what?” I finally ask, trying to lift my arms, which are coming out slowly with a sucking noise. “If my career is over, you two are dead.”
Mason actually has the dignity to at least look a little bit guilty about that. “How’s your arm? Can ya still throw a ball?”
I hold both now muddy hands out to my brothers, who both grab one each and hoist me up like I weigh nothing. Which for them, is the truth. Fucking giants.
Glaring at them both, I bounce on the balls of my feet, waving my arms gingerly back and forth, and heave a breath of relief when–besides a few kinks in my back–everything seems fine.
“You’re both very, very lucky that we had rain last night and the mud cushioned my fall.”
“Knew that,” Mase pipes up immediately. “I wouldn’t have pushed otherwise.”
I grumble something unrecognizable when I push my way inside to wash up, doing my best not to get the house too muddy because then I would have to face the wrath of Mom. I'd rather fall off the roof a couple of more times.
I take a very hot, very nice shower to relax the muscles in my back, not planning on getting back up there anytime soon. It's almost finished anyway, so they can finish it on their own.
But Iamcackling my ass off when I throw bullets at them when I find they’re back on that roof after I'm finished. And by bullets I mean footballs.
I canalmosthit 60 mph on averygood day, so they better run.
“Jesus, Ty. Knock it off!” Mase yells when he barely dodges a particularly hard one, hopping around on one foot on the solid new roof. ”I'm gonna fall off if you keep going!”
“You gonna break mom's new gazebo, idiot!” J supplies, waving his big arms erratically.
“I wooon't,” I sing-song, a manic smile spreading across my cheeks as I let another one fly. They both drop down at that one.
“You don't know that you won't!” one of them shouts; I don’t know which one.
“You’re aware that I'm the star QB for a reason, right?” I ask as I twirl a ball on my fingers. “Most accurate one in the FBS?”
“You’re way too damn happy this weekend,” J growls as his head pops up over the side of the gazebo. He grabs ahold of it and lets himself drop back down onto the grass with a soft thud in an impressive maneuver. “I thought you just got dumped? You're way too chipper for that. Who did you do?”
I falter with the ball at that, nearly dropping it, making J smile wider.
“Oh, who is she? Forgot Kyra already?”
“There's no one. And it's Kaylee,” I correct automatically, raising my voice as I step backward when he jogs to the other side of the lawn. He knows exactly where to position himself for a practice throw; being one of my receivers when we were having fun in the yard our whole lives.
