My Dearest Stepbrother

.3

Leslie POV

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I have no idea whether I'm in the right street, like this such a small town.

You can hardly see two houses next to each other.

It's like one house in on the one end and the other on the other end.

And there are hardly people in here.

I found few kids playing on the road, I had to wait till they cleared their little ground.

But I'm sure Kevin has got the perfect route map for me which helped me land here.

Like they have made sure their sister doesn't get lost in this treasure hunt.

And there are two houses on this street, at the end of two corners.

One has to be Quinton's.

And I have no idea how this will end up.

Also Did I mention that I'm shaking?

Like I'm literally shivering from inside, I might have puked twice on the way, I have started to feel sick.

Oh God, why should my brothers think that I can get Quinton back at home.

Like can't they do it?.

Shouldn't it be the men, like guys chat?

Taking a deep breath, I remove my sunglasses it's a couldy day but still I got the glasses, so I can gawk at him without having him catch me.

Lol, I'm kidding.

Mostly I'll never look into those green eyes, not at all.

I remember how I froze the first time I saw him.

But then I was ten and I had never seen anyone with green eyes.

That way he had got the best out of me

So having these glasses with me is like a cool move.

So I'll be fine and get this little job done, easily.

Walking up to the house door, I knock on the door.

I read the letters on the doormat

"Your welcome with no footwear"

Like he can't be this weird right?

I have no idea how he is as a person, so I'm just guessing here.

Hope he hasn't turned into a man with a family body , having a kid in his arms, stomach popped out with a burp cloth in his hand.

His beard too long, uncut hair loose shirts.

Because it's been three years since I saw him, and I'm pretty sure everything that kind could have happened in those three years.

You know what ?

He should have turned that ugly, with broken teeth.

Maybe then I'll stop gushing over him like I'm still ten.

But then he gave me a sleepless night, the first day I saw him.

I couldn't sleep, all I remembered was how good he looked

And we all know what happened after that.

Our parents decided to get together.

It took me a few years to understand that I can't have him.

He is my step-brother.

That's the end.

"How can I help you?"

I turn around, breaking away from my trance as I hear a woman's voice on the other side of the door.

"Huh ,hi.

My name is Leslie, Leslie Knight.

Does Quinton.

Huh … I mean does Mr. Reyes live here ?" I ask, as I try to figure out from where the voice is coming from

And then I see the small Camera.

So I wave at it, with a smile.

And then I hear the lock click.

The door opens.

I step back, like I'm making sure I'm not on the danger zone.

Okay she looks like a lady having midlife crisis.

My thoughts seem to be coming true.

"He lives in the other end" the lady answers as her eyes falls on me.

Okay got it, he doesn't live here.

And he didn't marry these woman.

Thank God

"Oh,, thank you.

Sorry for the disturbance"

I smile as I turn my heel around to get going.

I don't why I feel happy.

"If you see Yente in his house.

Tell him that his mother is calling him"

The lady shouts from behind, and I turn around, not understanding what she meant.

"Yente? " I arch a brow, questioning

"you will know him when you get there" she sighs as she kicks the door again on my face.

These people are weird

like what do they want?

.

.

.

To be honest, I thought walking to the door was the hardest part, but now I know driving to the next house is.

My hands are sweaty.

I can't make fun of myself.

Right?

He might have a wife, like she might greet me at the door and be like 'your Stepbrother is inside.

Changing the diapies'

And she might be real hot.

Taking a deep breath I pull over.

I see the main door left open, and I walk my head held high like trying hard not to trip on my heel.

I shouldn't have worn these stupid heels, but then I thought ill look tiny in front of his tall figure which always felt intimidating to my eyes.

That's the reason why I am dressed in a pair of jeans.

So heels and high waist pants.

Your butt looks on fire.

So can't blame it.

I am wearing a white shirt with red lipstick and I glance my face in my phone screen like my appearance should be fine.

Because we will be seeing each other after three years and I don't want to make any mistake on my look.

I run my hands through my hair, as I try to loosen up a little

But I'm not sure why I feel so scared, like I know I can do this but anxiety is kicking in very bad which is having my hands shiver.

So I take a few steps, around.

Composing myself, as I shut my eyes talking myself through.

Assuring myself that I can do this.

I'm a bad b***h who has gone places, got dropped out of college, never told that news to her family.

Finally, I breathe out easy

And I step in front of the door, but I see the house all empty.

Like no one in?

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.

.

"What do you want?

Who are you ?

Stranger?" The voice shouts at my direction and I almost jump back as I scream out loud as a stupid ball hit me from behind, straight at my shoulder.

“Jesus.

Dude, calm down” I yell, as I try to calm my nerves as I see the kid holding those plastic balls in his hands.

He must be around ten hardly

And I'm Twenty, an grown woman.

An adult.

Buckle up, women

"What's your name?

Why you here?" He asks, as he brings his hands on his hip.

Like I should be threatened by his move as he stares at me

“Is your name Yente?” I arch a brow as I cross my hands, remembering the ladies words.

“Yes, I am Yente.

And I'm sorry I have a girlfriend.

And you look too old for me”

He scoffs with an attitude

And I roll my eyes.

"Funny.

Hahaha " I grit out sarcastically, right back at his face

“Where is Quinton?” I ask him without wasting any further time in this stupid conversation.

“He is not at home” Yente answers as he stares at me, his eyes getting intense.

“Where can I find him or can you give me his number?”

I ask, as I take a step-down from the door patio, this time keeping my voice polite.

The grass looks like it should be mowed, and the house looks like it should be cleaned.

“Nope.

I can't.

You're a stranger” the kids raises his eyes at me, with a bad tone

“I'm not, actually.

Quinton and I are ….”

My voice trails off… as I think about it

.

.

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“Friends.

We have known each other since ten years”