My Brother's Best Friend - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

First time writer, Karla De La Rosa, residing in the suburbs of Northern Jersey, spends her days writing on Wattpad when not working her full-time retail job. Never really knowing what she wanted to do as a career in the future, she found her calling at just the age of 17 when a simple story she solemnly decided to write for fun slowly became a hit on the writing platform. Having been diagnosed with depression at a young age, Karla was able to heal and find comfort and stability by writing out parts of her life and pouring her heart out into her stories.

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Prologue

It was towards the end of my freshman year, and, as usual, I was scrolling through Instagram, watching as my feed filled with nearly identical photos. The girls in my grade, who had all changed their profile pictures countless times in the last hour, were all posting selfies with the same pose on the same local beach and the same cheesy song lyrics in the caption. I sighed. The boys in my grade weren’t much better—an endless stream of boasting about how much money they were making and how frequently they were getting laid. 

I rolled my eyes, scrolling continuously. I often contemplated deleting my account, but something about the site had me hooked. Then, the front door slammed, snapping me out of my mindless swiping. Footsteps stomped towards the hallway. 

I got up from my bed, knowing it had to be my older brother, Dylan, trudging up the stairs. My parents wanted the dishes done before they returned from some outing with their co-workers, and it was Dylan’s turn. The second I opened my bedroom door, my brother stopped. But I was surprised to see he had a guest: another boy.

“Great, what do you want?” Dylan scoffed, his shaggy black hair falling messily over his eyes. He crossed his arms at me, eyes narrowed.

I dramatically ignored his attention, purposefully looking over the guy with him, whose curls fell about his face, before finally glancing back to Dylan. 

“Nothing,” I said, “I just wanted to tell you it’s your turn to do the dishes.” 

“Bullshit, I did them last night.”

“Actually, that was me; you haven’t done them since Wednesday.” 

“Christ, Carter, I’ll do them later.” He sighed as he continued toward his bedroom. The boy slowly followed, offering me a slight smile. 

After another hour of browsing YouTube and tragically returning to Instagram, I was bored out of my skull. As if presenting a cure for the monotony, my old LG phone vibrated. I snatched it as a slew of messages from my best friend buzzed across the screen. 

Mitchell: carter

Mitchell: sos

Mitchell: my dad is marrying gabriella santos

Me: who’s that?

Mitchell: it’s elizabeth’s mother

Mitchell: fucking elizabeth de leon

Mitchell: god out of all ppl my dad decided to marry the wicked witch of west’s mother

Mitchell: now I have to consider her “““family””” and refer to her as my “““stepsister”””

Mitchell: I almost puked just spelling out those godawful words

Mitchell: pls kill me

Me: sorry to hear that

Mitchell: thnx I can almost feel ur sympathy over the phone

Me: I don’t see why you don’t like her

Me: elizabeth is really nice

Mitchell: carter r u serious

Mitchell: ugh it’s just an act

Mitchell: she’s a stuck-up bitch & I know it

Me: takes one to know one

Mitchell: wow rUde

I laughed, tossing my phone onto my bed. I made my way downstairs, stomach grumbling, to find that the kitchen was already occupied.

The countertop was cluttered with jars, bottles, random assortments of bread crackers, and a half-peeled banana. The fridge was being ransacked, the door shielding Dylan from my exasperation. 

 “You don’t have time for dishes, but you have time to raid the fridge? You know that every plate you use is only gonna add on to what you have to clean.” 

My smirk morphed into a chagrined gape as the fridge door closed and I realized it wasn’t my brother at all. The random boy I’d seen upstairs stood up, his olive eyes meeting mine. Suddenly self-conscious in his presence, I realized just how cute he was. A dimple-dented grin slyly appeared on his face, making my stomach flutter. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were my brother,” I apologized with a sheepish smile. 

The boy merely shrugged it off. “It’s okay. You actually just missed him. He was down here, hence the mess.”

“That explains a lot,” I said. “So, you’re a new friend of my brother’s.” I watched the boy lean against the counter and start brushing crumbs into a pile. “In fact, you might just be his only friend. You don’t have to play nice out of pity. He’s kind of a dick.” I whispered the last part for effect.

He laughed. “You’re cute. But actually, we’ve been friends for a while. This is the first time I’ve been to your guys’ house, though.”

“Really? Funny. Dylan never mentioned you.”

“Yeah, you either.” He smiled again, and my insides suddenly forgot their place in my stomach. 

“Do you go to the same school as us?” I asked, somewhat in wonder of the effect he had on me. “Because I’ve never seen you around.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know you went there, either.” He chuckled. “Freshman?”

“Sadly, yes. You?”

“Sophomore.” 

“Dude!” my brother called from upstairs. “Are you coming?”

The boy looked across the counter, then at me.

“I’m not even surprised; he treats everyone like his maid.” I shrugged at the boy. “Go, it’s fine.”

“No way, I can’t leave you to pick this up by yourself,” he said with wide-eyed sincerity.

“Oh, I’m not cleaning this up,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m leaving this for my mom to see. Dylan will be running down here the moment she pulls up to the house.”

The boy laughed again, then regarded me with his head tilted to the side. “I guess I better get upstairs, then.”

I nodded. A brief silence fell before I took a step towards him and held my hand out to properly introduce myself. “I’m Carter, by the way. Dylan’s sister, obviously.”

With a sweet smile on his lips, he gently placed his hand in mine. The warmth sent goosebumps up my arms.

“Nice to meet you, Carter. I’m Harry.”