“No! Pass to Rice, he’s open! No, please, please, don’t fumble! Oh my...would you quit starin’ at the cheerleaders and pass?” I screamed at my large TV screen in my blue-purple-and-green room in my family’s huge New York mansion. I was watching the football game on ESPN. Usually, I wasn’t that excited on football. Except when the San Francisco 49ers played.

Okay, so I live in New York, but I mean, I was born in San Francisco and lived there until I was 11. Now I’m 19, so I’ve lived in San Francisco for longer. Doesn’t that give me a right? I definetely think it does.

I sighed as the 49ers didn’t make the play that they could’ve. The Dallas Cowboys whooped and cheered as the 49ers dropped their helmets on the sideline benches and dissapeared into the locker rooms. Trailing behind them was head coach Steve Mariucci. I always thought Steve was really cute...

The final score flashed, showing the 7-point win for the Cowboys. After, they had more footage of the game. The Cowboys were eating a massive sized (well, tiny for a football player!) hot dogs. And I thought they ate healthy! Looking at food made me hungry, so I decided to go downstairs and get something out of my humongous kitchen.

I looked in the cabinets. Finally, I chose 7 milk chocolate covered cookies [not good for my diet, but today I decided to splurge] and some Mountain Dew. I got it all on a plate and went back to the stairs. I heard a creak from the door.

            “Hello?” I asked. I get scared really easily. All of my siblings had gone out. Mom and Kathy went out on errands. Kathy’s six. Emily was out with her boyfriend, Adam. They were both 13. Kristy, my older sister who was 21 was out somewhere with her friends, and Kelli, my 16 year old sister was out with her friends at the theatres. Somehow, even though Kristy was the closest to my age—being 2 years apart—I felt like my closest sister was actually Kelli.

 Since it was summer, everyone’s school was out, so the house was once again crowded. Since I attended the University of New York, I was close to home, so I just lived there. And since Dad died when I was 15, Mom needed help with the house and stuff.

I headed up to my room. I opened the door and stepped in. I felt a person grab their hands around my waist. As I said, I get scared easily.

“Ahh! Omigod, Burglar!” I yelled. I ran out the door unsuccessfully, dropping my snacks on the plush maroon carpets. Before I could run down the curved steps, the person turned me around. When I saw who it was, I lost it.

“Justin! You really know how to scare me, you moron!” I started, “Never ever do that to me again!” I screeched.

“Okay, okay, point taken!” He said. There was still a playful smile on his lips.

“Like I said, never ever do that to me again!” I said.

“What about this?” He asked, and kissed me deeply on the lips. When it was over, I looked at him,

“Oh yeah. That’s an exception,” I breathed. “So first of all, why are you in New York?” I asked. He was supposed to be on tour right now. He led me into my room. He sat down on my cushion-sofa, which was baby blue. He always sat there. I lay on my bed, on my stomach so my legs were in the air above my back.

“Well, the guys all wanted a break. Joey’s got his Mom’s birthday in Brooklyn, JC is over in D.C. with family, Lance is in Mississippi, Chris is who knows where, and I? I was forced here since the group was leaving, and they insisted that I stay for my girlfriend’s 20th birthday. Sucks, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah. Poor you. What’s your girlfriend like?” I asked, teasing.

“Well, she’s fun, cool, nice, sweet, funny, her blond hair’s super, and yeah,” He said.

“Really? Is that what you think of me?” I asked him, kicking my legs.

“No. Christina Aguilera. She’s my new hook-up for the year.” He said, mocking.

“Great. Then it’ll be Britney Spears.” I said, then instantly regretted it. He and Britney had been a couple until he was 18, and then they split. He got with me when I was 18 and he was 19. “Aww, I’m sorry, it was a joke.” I apologized.

“Next time don’t joke, then,” he said darkly.

“I’m sorry!” I said. I moved over next to him and kissed his forehead. “Really. I didn’t mean it.”

He smiled. “Okay, then for that, I getta do this!” he said and tickled me in the stomach which was bare. I was super ticklish. I laughed so much that tears came to my eyes.

“Hey! You really need to change your.... skimpy outfits!” He stated.

“What? It’s just a tank-belly top, and a kinda short skirt. Plus I’m in the house!” I protested.

“Well, what if it wasn’t me who was the “burglar”?? Then they’d be...attracted to you!” He complained.

“You are so weird.” I stated.

“And cute?” he asked, immaturely.