I'm so screwed!

I just gave a whole speech about us being shitty friends. Yes, in my head, but that does not change the fact that I can't be attracted to Roscoe's date.

It's his date for crying out loud! That's against every bro code there is.

Roscoe takes the girl's lower arm and gently tucks her over to the six of us. Somehow, I feel short of breath. It's like something heavy is pushing on my chest, making me more breathless with every inch they move towards us. It's making me uneasy and clammy in the weirdest places.

I feel like the whole diner can hear me swallow the uncomfortable lump that's blocking my throat when they reach us.

"So, who's this wonderful creature, Roscoe?" Levi drawls, looking the girl up and down and up again with his crooked smirk, driving Roscoe to stand in front of her, protecting her from the male attention that is called, his friends. "And why are you lying to us, man? Telling me you have dinner plans with your brother and keeping your date a secret. Are you ashamed of us, bro?"

I tune out the conversation trying to see her face. I know it's wrong, but I can't help myself. One second wasn't enough and maybe my brain saw it all wrong. Maybe there is no attraction at all and I can go back to being the good friend that I am.

Yet, all I see is the lower part. She wears a snapback low over her eyes and the fact that she won't look straight at even one of us makes it impossible to see more.

I do like a snapback on a hot girl, though.

No, Maceo. Bad friend! Bad, Bad friend!

"Omg, that's his sister, Levi!" Malia tsks like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

And I thought I was screwed. I'm signing my death certificate in a few minutes if my body keeps reacting like this.

Is it bad to wish she was an ugly duck?

"I call dips!" Levi and Joao shout at the same time, holding their hands up in the air like calling shotgun when we go for a ride.

I know they are joking, yet I still want to smash both their faces against the table, treating his sister with such little respect, Roscoe beating me to it slapping both of them on the back of the head, roaring, "The fuck you are!"

His face is red with anger, his stand rigid and the veins in his neck extremely close to bursting when he points his finger around the table, announcing, "No one is calling dips on my sister! You will not even think about her, or I will make sure your football career is over before it even started."

His sister puts a slender hand on his shoulder, and I almost miss her plead. The sound of her voice is enchanting. It's soft and gentle and envelops my body with a feverish temperature when she stands on the tips of her toes leaning forward next to his ear to whisper. "Please, Roscoe. Not this."

She must have hit a sore spot or something. It was there for a flash, the look of guilt in his orbs when he looked over his shoulder into her eyes. He's overprotective of his sister, the way I am over Malia. I can't fault him for it. Even her side profile is a masterpiece.

Roscoe mouths sorry to her, wrapping an arm around her frame and finally giving us the proper introduction he couldn't do because of our blabbermouth, Levi. "So guys, this is my sister, Robin." She gives a shy wave to everyone, peeping from under her snapback, only making eye contact with Malia and Neela.

We all say our greetings like lost puppies, afraid of Roscoe's wrath. I know he's joking about destroying our careers, but I'm sure as hell he will throw a good punch or two, maybe three.

"You wanna buy me that dinner, Roscoe?" Malia speaks up in her flirty voice.

All eyes snap my way, awaiting a response. Except for the ones I want to see. She seems oblivious to the tension or chooses to ignore it.

Locking my jaw, I try to keep my anger at bay, staring Roscoe dead in the eye, who has a guilty streek oozing from him. I fucking told him Malia is off-limit! How the heck did they both manage to flirt with each other in one fucking afternoon? Yet, I'm not a hair better, trying to get a glimpse of his sister's face.

It takes me all my might not to blaze my next words, "No one is buying you dinner, Malia. You pay for your food, as your padre thought you."

"For fucks sake, Maceo!" Malia groans frustrated, slamming her small fists on the table. "It's just a joke. Don't go all shitface protective over me and don't you dare bring our padre into this." She seethes, using her hands while speaking. "I can't get a fucking break with you! I'll end up alone, living in one of your spare rooms if you keep this up!"

I snort and wave her outbursts to the heavens. "You're such a drama queen, Sorella."

"I'm not! Fratello!" She spits, turning her attention to Roscoe's sister. "You thought your brothers are bad, well meet mine, Robin!" holding her hand palm up towards me, frustration radiating from her. "Robin, meet my idiot brother Maceo. Maceo, meet my roommate, Robin."

I never asked for mercy. Not for myself at least. But il Dio, please, have mercy on me.

Or at least let me breathe.

She knocked the air out of my lungs, meeting my curious stare halfway. This must be the feeling my parents told us about when we were little. The undeniable feeling that the person standing in front of you is a piece of your future. A future that has to find its path, but is unable to move forward without her presence.

I'm unable to tear my gaze away from her. She's absolutely gorgeous, and her eyes, her eyes are ones artists devote whole songs about. One blue, like the clearest water you have ever seen. The other a deep green, like the moss you find wandering deep into the woods.

She shifts uncomfortably on her feet when a cute blush graces her cheeks, diverting her eyes back and forth between me and someone else.

An unpleasant shiver runs down my spine when a hand is placed on my shoulder, breaking the wonderful haze I was floating in. Robin quickly moved away from Roscoe after the interruption by the waitress, making her way over to my sister, who is for some unknown reason grinning like the Cheshire cat.

The waitress's hand brushes from my shoulder to my bicep. Letting her hand linger, she flirts, 'Hi, Maceo."

I acknowledge her with a nod and rest my arms on the table, crossing them in a way that she has to remove her hand. She reluctantly does with a sour face, tapping her pen impatiently on her little notepad. "So, what will it be guys?"

"You're eating with us?" Malia asks, full of excitement. Her question is addressed to Robin. Yet she is looking towards Roscoe.

He and I will have to have a word later.

Robin is looking anywhere but at me.

"No, we're gonna grab a booth over there."

A flash of disappointment stirs in my sister's eyes with Roscoe's answer, but she recovers faster than a flashbulb. "That's okay, you'll be joining us to the
bowling alley, right?"

True surprise flashes over Robin's features.

"We are all going, after dinner. Right guys?" She says, seeking confirmation from my friends.

For some unknown reason, they all nod.  I can barely suppress the snort wanting to creep over my lips. Such a tiny girl and somehow she always gets her way.

"You're going too?" Roscoe asks his sister in disbelief.

"Of course, she's going." She answers before Robin can even say one damn letter.

He exchanges a look with his sister before hesitantly agreeing. "Well, then. I guess that's better than getting shit-faced at a party."

The sarcasm is laid thick in his answer and Roscoe ain't stupid, he saw right through my sister's act.

They moved to a booth opposite us when we agreed to meet at the bowling alley. Roscoe agreed to pick up the girls after they changed because apparently, you need to dress up to be able to knock down some pins with a shiny ball.

I was pleasantly surprised when Robin got out of the car, wearing the same outfit she wore to the diner. Sure, I do like it when a girl puts in that extra effort to look good, but not when it's making no sense. Why the fuck should you wear a skin-tight dress to something this casual? It's like running a marathon on stilettos.

It makes no freaking sense.

Robin was facing my way when we got seated and I couldn't resist the urge to sneak a few glances. I also couldn't fight the shit-eating grin that took over my face, when I found her glancing at me as well. Until that group of obnoxious cheerleaders dropped themselves at our lane.

She hasn't spared me one glance after I was assaulted by a curvy redhead and it's bothering me to no end. First of all, why is it okay for a girl to harass a guy?

She just dropped her short skirt-clad booty on my lap, and caressed her boobs against my chest, breathing her hot breath in my ear while sticking her greedy paws on places that only my doctor and I should be handling without even a word sounding like, hello!

I was thankful for Joao when he took interest in her. She literally, scattered from my lap onto his. So far for real interest in me as a human being.

The game has died out. It turned into a flirting fest real quick with no one bothering to throw another ball into the lane we have for another hour.

Joao and Levi are occupied by a foursome of cheerleaders. My best friend is staring like a lovesick puppy into his girlfriend's eyes and Roscoe is testing the water with my little sister.

Normally, I would come between the fool who tries to hit on my sister in front of me,  but I see Robin sitting by herself and feel kinda sorry for her being dragged into this because of Malia.

She watches me with panic in her eyes when I take the seat next to her and quickly looks away when my gaze connects with hers.

"Hi," I say, wanting to slap the crap out of myself. What a weak way to begin and I understand her when she doesn't react. I wouldn't either.

"So, um. I'm Maceo." I try again, stretching my hand out for her to shake.

Her head tips a bit, peeking from under her snapback at me, she whispers, "I know." She immediately looks back down like I could burn her with my eye contact, letting my hand float in front of her.

Her reaction is intriguing. I'm not sure if she's just shy or if it's something else. "Roscoe never told us he had a sister. We just assumed you were male being named Robin." I honestly admit.

She shakes her head and sighs, "I bet he didn't." Her words are laced with pain, making me wonder why she feels this way.

Placing my elbows on my knees, I lean forward and try to catch her gaze to carefully ask, "What's that supposed to mean?" I can't imagine why he would hide the existence of his sister.

She grunts and folds her hands in front of her face to lean her chin on them and stares into the distance for some time before asking, "What do you want from me, Maceo?"

It's a very blunt question, and the answer is making my heart beat like crazy, yet I reply in all honesty. "I want to get to know you."

"Yeah, right." She snickers sarcastically.

I don't understand her sudden change in attitude. There is bitterness in her voice. A rigidness in her posture. "I do, so tell me about you."

She scoffs,  "Not interested."

"You're making this kinda hard for me, you know." I joke, trying to ease the tension oozing from her.

"What's it that you really want, Maceo? Like, really?"

"I... I don't understand what you..."

Her fingers dig into her hands, turning the flesh white. Whitout looking at me, she speakes with disdain, almost breathing fire, yet a single tear spills and rolls down her flushed cheek. "I call bullshit. So please, please go play with girls that are interested in a football player, because I'm not and never will be."

She scatterers away from me, a muffled sob leaving her and alarming Roscoe.

He looks at me like he wants to break all of my 206 bones, and I don't doubt he would try it if he didn't feel the need to go after his sister.

Leaving me dumbfounded and with all eyes focused on me , I wonder, what the hell did I do wrong?