"Jordan, you need to get a life," George tells me.

He plops down next to me on the couch and watches as King Boo escapes getting hit by three green shells. Take that, Bowser.

Life? What even is life? With the way people talk about it, I assume its jumping off cliffs into a field of sharp rocks for the fun of it. Because that's awesome. Mmmm, look at my spleens frying on that pointy rock. Is that all my blood? Cool, at least I lived a little.

And, I cross the finish line. First again.

Shocker.

I need some actual competition here.

And George presses the power button on the Wii. I scowl at him and cross my arms.

"Really? Was that necessary?" I demand.

"You need to get your butt off of that couch and go do something," George tells me.

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Why would I do that? I am perfectly happy sitting here playing Mario Kart all day long."

George rubs his face tiredly. "Exactly. You need to get active. You're going to end up fat and single."

I throw my remote at him, and it hits him in the stomach. He jumps backwards in surprise. Then he frowns.

"Ow," he whines.

"Oh, shut up you goat milker," I stand up and stretch my arms out.

How long have I been sitting there? Hm, maybe an hour? Two? Three at most.

Hey, what else is there to do? We can't go outside, unless we want to be blown away by a blizzard. We can't really do any fun games. I don't have any fun hobbies. I've got boring interests. What can I say?

"Where are Ray and Jacob?" I ask.

"Downstairs," George shrugs.

"Doing what?" You would assume I wanted to know what they were doing also. Gosh, stupid boys. Always needing clarification.

"Playing Uno," he sighs.

"With two people?" I quirk an eyebrow.

"I was playing, but I threw my cards down, got up and left. I hate card games," George says.

You learn something new every day.

For George, that's a real step. He used to say he hated nothing. I asked about veggies, his reply was: no, they make me live longer. I asked about wasps. His answer was: no, as long as you don't go near them, they leave you alone. I even asked about serial killers. And: they're just misunderstood.

"I was hoping you were doing something exciting," George sighs. "Should've known better."

I shove him as I walk by and he chuckles, following me. I hear his footsteps behind me all the way to my room. I turn around in my doorway and he stops.

"What are you doing?"

"Following you," he says.

"Why do you assume I'll let you in?" I ask.

"I don't assume," he says simply before stepping past me into my room.

"Get out," I demand. "Or I will have to call the police for trespassing."

He looks back at me amused, before sitting in my desk chair. "Uh huh."

If people actually listened and obeyed, America would be a highly successful place. Come on, peeps.

"Fine, stay there," I fold my arms. "I'm going to go play Uno."

He raises his eyebrows. "Okay?"

And I storm out of my room and down the stairs to where I find Ray and Jacob looking all intense with their focus on the cards before them. Ray slams down a red seven and Jacob reverses it back. Ray grunts and reverses it back.

What a boring game to play with two people.

"Can I play?" I ask.

Silence.

Slamming of a card into a pile.

"Can I play?" I repeat.

"Sshhhh," Jacob says, studying his cards. Gosh, get all competitive, will you.

I don't ask permission before I take my seat next to Ray and peek into his hand of cards. A wild, a yellow skip, and a draw 4. He knows how to play this game with strategy. And he puts down the skip. Draw two. Draw four. Ray wins.

"Haha! In your face you carrot muffin!" Ray yells and stands up from his chair.

"Seriously? That is sooo lame," Jacob whines. "I only had a blue nine left. Unfair."

Ray laughs again. "You're just mad that you aren't as skilled as me."

"Rematch?"

"Rematch."

I roll my eyes. Boys and competition. "Can I play?"

Both heads turn in my direction. Eyebrows raised, mouths open.

"When did you get here?" Jacob asks.

I give him a blank stare. "A few minutes ago."

He stares back. "Oh."

"Can I play?" I ask for the fourth time, now agitated.

"Sure," Ray answers for him.

Jacob shuffles the cards and passes them out to the three of us. I look at my seven cards and smirk. Two blues, a draw two, two skips, a red and a draw four.

The first card flipped is a yellow one. Ray places a blue one. I put down a blue skip. Jacob groans and shoots me a glare. Ray puts down a green three. I put down a green draw two. Jacob groans again and slams his hands on the table before grabbing his cards. Ray puts a red draw two.

He laughs as I draw the two cards. A yellow six and a wild.

Jacob puts down a red four. Ray puts down a skip. Curse him. Jacob puts down a red nine. Ray puts a red draw two. I groan. How many good cards does this kid get? Jacob puts down a five. And Ray puts a draw four.

I turn to him, mouth open and scowl. "Are you kidding me?"

He smirks. "You tell me."

I grumble as I take my four cards. "Stupid... I hate this game... Never wanted to play anyways..."

Jacob reverses back to me. I laugh hysterically. Time to give Ray a taste of his own medicine. Draw two. He rolls his eyes, as if asking if that's all I've got. No, sir, it is not. Jacob puts a yellow one. I put a wild and change it to blue. Ray places a blue skip, bringing it back to me. I put a red five. Ray puts another skip.

"You have a death wish," Jacob tells Ray, scowling. Ray shrugs.

I put a blue seven.

"UNO!" I yell, holding my card so nobody can see.

Take that, sucker! Haha! You have no idea....

Ray groans along with Jacob and he places a yellow eight in the pile. Jacob puts a green eight. And I place my draw four, the winning card.

Happy dance, happy dance!

"This is what we get playing a game with this chick," Jacob points a thumb in my direction.

Why, thank you. I know I'm an expert at games, but way to flatter me.

***********************************

Jacob and George are now playing Wii Sports. That is super lame because now I can't do Mario Kart.

Ray sits beside me on the couch, and I flip through an old photo album. There's me as a baby, there's me holding my lost tooth, there's me finding an Easter egg. There's Jacob being pushed into a pool by me. I point at the picture and Ray laughs.

"Aw, Jakey, you were a cutie as a kid!" Ray coos. And Jacob furiously flings his remote, making him lose the virtual tennis match. He turns to Ray and I, placing a hand on his waste.

"You highly resemble a twelve year old girl throwing a fit about the ugly shoes her mom got her," Ray says.

"Why are you showing him my pictures?" Jacob demands, stomping over to where we sit.

"I'm not, we're looking at mine," I explain. "You, unfortunately for the both of us, happen to be in a few of these."

Jacob pulls the book out of my grasp and throws it across the room.

"You know mom'll kill you if it's broken," I warn him.

"It'll have been worth it!"

My stomach is telling me it's hungry. I can't leave it like this, I'm a kind person. So, I go down the stairs and into the kitchen and open the pantry.

Canned foods. Great. I don't even know how to open a can. Macaroni. Not doing that again. Chips. Oh, yum! Wait, those are barbecue. And, back on the shelf you go, Mister Disappointment. Those gross fruit bars my mom bought and have been sitting there for about five months.

Oh, the choices.

"Mmm, barbecue," a hand grabs the chips from the pantry. I turn around and come face to face with Ray. He subtly puts a chip into his mouth and I just laugh and close the pantry.

To the fridge!

Cheese, eggs, milk, lettuce, tomatoes, really old hot dogs. That have already been grilled. Delicious.

And, lastly to the freezer.

Frozen corn, frozen broccoli, frozen mixed fruit, frozen blueberries, frozen hamburger meat. Mini corndogs. Ice. Pizza rolls!

Praise the heavens above. Something I will actually be delighted to eat.

Until I'm fat and I regret it.

But that's a long ways away.

So I shove a bunch onto a plate and into the microwave. Yes, children. This is a healthy choice for a balanced breakfast. Only it's full of fat and calories. And it's for dinner.

"Pizza Rolls, huh?"

I jump at the whisper in my ear and pull a spatula of the counter before turning around and slapping the predator.

This all happens in less than two seconds.

Ray chuckles and grabs the spatula out of my hands and puts it in the sink. "I need to ask you something."

"Ask away, chump," I rest back on the counter.

"Alright, would you-"

Ding!

"Pizza rolls..." I explain before throwing open the microwave door and pulling out the plate.

"Ow! Hot hot hot!" And I drop the plate which shatters all over the floor. My precious pizza rolls scatter all over the floor. "No no no!"

I run across the broken glass, stupid, to grab the dying pizza rolls. Five second rule, you know? Of course, stepping in broken glass has some consequences. I have the privilege of finding those out firsthand.

"Here," Ray helps me up off the floor, laughing. "We've got to clean your feet."

"I always love a pedicure, but don't you think now isn't the best-"

"The glass shards stuck in the soles of your feet, Jor," Ray chuckles.

Oh, those. Ah, there's the pain I was looking for.

Before I can protest, Ray picks me up bridal style and carries me off into the bathroom. He sets me on the counter and lifts up my feet to examine them.

"Now remember," Ray tells me, "I am not a doctor of any sort."

"Great reassurance," I nod.

"You only have a thirty percent chance of death."

And he takes a pair of tweezers and begins pulling tiny pieces of glass from my feet. And they're all red and wet with my blood. Mmmm, try eating that in your salad.

When he's finished with that, he carefully turns me and puts my feet into the sink, turning the faucet on. And he washes my feet off, turning the water pink. He wraps flexible material around them.

And something registers in my mind.

"My pizza rolls!"

Ray shakes his head. "You can make more. I'm sure those aren't the only ones in this house."

I shake my head at him. "No, they'll think it's personal. I can't do that, it'll hurt their feelings."

And I jump off the counter with my bandaged feet and hurry down the stairs into the kitchen. I collect each roll with caution, careful not to step in any glass.

And I put them on a new and plastic plate. As Ray kindly sweeps up my mess of the plate that used to be, I eat my greasy, now somewhat cold, picked up off the ground pizza rolls.

It was worth it.

"Hey Ray," I say, remembering something. "You were going to say something earlier. I think I sort of ruined the moment, but we could try again."

Ray laughs and says, "I was hoping you would come to a corny named winter dance with me."

I laugh. "Oh, don't insult the Winter Wonderland."

"Sorry, I didn't realize it had feelings."

"Everything has feelings. Don't be insensitive," I scold Ray.

"Especially your pizza rolls," Ray comments.

"Yes," I say. "Both to your observational comment, and to the first question."

"I already forgot what that was," Ray smirks.

"Mhm, guess I won't go with you," I turn away from him, nose in the air and arms crossed.

"I guess I'll have to bring Marth-"

"I was kidding, I'll go!"