Well this is awkward.

   'Maybe if I mention my last exam grade, Yukio'll ignore Inuyasha,' I think to myself.

   "So uh Yukio, did you see the score on my last test?" I ask haltingly.

   My brother looks at me, and I see his eyes flash somewhat angrily.

   "Yes, Rin. I have seen your grades; did they make you want to cry as much as I do?" He shoots back, making me wince. "Honestly," Yukio sighs. "Am I tutoring you for nothing?"

   'Well, mission accomplished,' I thought wearily.

   "What subjects are you struggling the most in?" Inuyasha suddenly pipes in. Yukio blinks in surprise before turning to the new addition to the conversation.

   "Well ah, the history of demons is his lowest score; I'm sure if we could get that one up, we'd be fine." Yukio turns somewhat bashful. "But to be completely honest, that's my weak spot, too."

"Oh, that's no problem for me; I love demonic history so much that I might as well have lived there," Inuyasha chuckles.

Yukio's face brightens instantly. "You wouldn't be willing to help Rin with his studies, would you, ahh... What was your name again?"

"Inuyasha," he supplies. "Of course, I'd be delighted to be able to tutor Rin."

And it seems that the student in question is no longer right beside either of them. I cough pointedly.

   "Oh, sorry Rin," they say in unison.

   Just then, Inuyasha's stomach also makes an indignant 'feed me' noise, causing him to blush. Yukio turns to me.

   "Did you get supper finished?" He asks. My eyes widen when I remember that I had left the potatoes and chicken on the stove.

   Racing back to the kitchen, I find clouds of smoke billowing from what used to be edible food.

   "You have got to be kidding me!" I cry at no one in particular— I'm simply aggravated at everything. "Can I do nothing right?" I suddenly become the target of my own frustrations and ridicule.

   I feel a lump forming in my throat as tears are threatening to paint their little tracks down my cheeks.  I don't dare turn around now as I blink rapidly, fervently willing the stupid saltwater not to spill over onto my face.

   I quietly sniffle once, then twice before I'm certain I won't embarrass myself by bawling like a child. I slowly turn to face the two men that stood hesitantly at the doorway.

   "So, uh," an awkward smile forces its way onto my face. "How do TV dinners sound?"

★ 〜 ☆ 〜 ★

   About a half hour later, the three of us were seated on the couch in the living room, watching some comedian recount different escapades from his teenaged years.
The 'chicken' nuggets in the little black tray on my lap weren't quite up to my standards, but who am I to judge? I nearly burnt down our house because a pot of potatoes boiled over.

  Consternation—
     Feelings of anxiety or dismay, typically at something unexpected.