I awoke on the couch, hungover.
   Not a drunk hungover but the kind when you pass out so hard you get a cushion scar and wake up with a food baby.
    I looked around and noticed Reagan wasn't on any of the other sofas, so naturally the next thing I did was run upstairs to make sure Brook wouldn't be the next star of 16 and Pregnant. When I opened the door she was in one side of the bed and Reagan was on the other. Not ideal, but definitely not the body language of someone who just did the dirty with their new boyfriend.
     Next thing I did was walk over to Brook and tap her on the face.
"Brook. Brooklyn. Brooklyn Grey. Brooklyn Mar-"
"Do not finish that word." She said, sitting up, also interruptibg me from saying her middle name.
"Did you dirty the sheets? Did you jump the hump? Did you dock on his-"
"WTF NO! Malorie get a grip I'm Ace, remember dingbat?" She whisper yelled. Reagan stirred.
"What are you guys arguing about?" He asked, words slurred from not being fully awake.
       "Whether or not she's gonna be on the next season of Teen Mom." Malorie deadpanned. In turn, Reagan lifted the sheets and looked at his penguin pajama pants.
        "Most likely no." He answered.
        "Definitely no. Wtf, is my answer just not counted around here?" Brook huffed.
         "Not if there's a baby at stake. Now get up, I want breakfast." I shrugged, exiting the room and sliding down the stairs railing. Reagan and Brook not far behind. Once in the kitchen Brook took out a carton of eggs and 2 pans.
       "I'm assuming everyone here likes scrambled." She said, in a more "Everyone here is getting scrambled whether you like it or not" tone.
       "What do you need two pans for?" Reagan asked, ever so innocently.
      "One for cooking eggs, the other is for people who try and sneak food before it's served." I stated matter-of-factly. Reagan looked like he didn't believe me. "You seem like you don't believe me, she once hit me over the head with a pot for adding more pepper to an omelet while it was still in the pan." This time Reagan looked appalled. Then the doorbell rang. Brook eyed the large oak door suspiciously before grabbing her smacking pan.
     "Mal, watch the eggs." She ordered before walking over to the door.
     "Reagan, watch the eggs." I ordered before following her. She opened the door, hiding her pan from view, and-
    "Hey Malorie, uh Brook-" Paris began.
    "Nuh-uh." Brook muttered before slamming the door, but Paris caught it.
    "I was gonna say, an apology is in order." He spoke a bit more sternly.
    "You have 1 minute." Brook spoke indignantly.
    "Look, what I did was wrong, and I should have never even been in the mindset to do something like that. So I'm hoping we can still be friends. Oh, and also if you're wondering how I found your house, it's in the student directory. Juts feel like that would've been the next question." He finished. Brook made it look like she was actually thinking about this.
     "Apology accepted." She stated.
     "Great." Paris said before advancing and trying to come inside before Brook stopped him.
     "What the F do you think you're doing?" She asked, clearly upset.
     "Oh come on, you know you want me, or you wouldn't have accepted that apology." He smirked. Brook looked beyond pissed.
     "First of all, I have a boyfriend-" she began.
     "Yeah right, I'm the only one that would actually accept you, I mean look at those chubby thighs!" He exclaimed angrily.
      "SHUT THE HELL UP. First of all, I have a boyfriend who likes me for me. Second of all, I am gorgeous the way I am. Third, I accepted your apology to be nice! Not to be another one of your one night stands." She fumed.
     "Sure slut." He said, trying to step inside, and closer to Brook. But before he could she flung the door open, exposing her pan and whacking him straight across the face with it.
      "CALL ME A SLUT ONE MORE TIME FUCKTARD AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!" She screamed before slamming the door and locking it. Suddenly Reagan emerged from the kitchen.
     "Eggs are done." He informed us. Brook looked mortified.
     "I'm sorry you had to hear that, that's not very normal of me." She murmured, looking down at her feet.
     "Please, that's the hottest thing you've done since we've been together." Reagan beamed, as we entered the kitchen, sat down, and consumed our slightly-burnt scrambled eggs.