The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting a cold, artificial glow across the cramped study room. Patricia stood at the whiteboard like a general in battle, her posture stiff with conviction, the tip of her marker squeaking as she circled a bold arrow connecting two stick figures labeled *Mom* and *His Dad*.
Alexander slouched in his chair like he had no bones in his body, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes lazily scanning the "master plan" before flicking back to her. A skeptical smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Wow," he said, voice rich with sarcasm. "How long did it take you to come up with this? Three mental breakdowns and a Pinterest board?"
Patricia didn't flinch. Her fingers tightened around the marker, the cap nearly snapping under pressure. She shot him a withering glare. "Just shut up and listen."
Alexander raised a brow, clearly amused, but leaned back in his seat. His legs stretched out beneath the table, knocking against hers — intentionally, she thought. He didn't look away, just kept staring, eyes dancing with quiet mockery. And maybe something else. Curiosity?
To his far left, Tylee and Morgan were practically melting into their chairs. Both girls sat like dazed fans at a backstage concert, eyes wide and sparkly as they gazed dreamily at Alexander. Morgan sighed so softly it could've been mistaken for a breeze. Tylie, however, wasn't quite so subtle.
"Do they really have to be here?" Alexander muttered, shifting in his seat. The attention clearly made his skin itch.
Patricia snapped her head toward her friends, jaw tight. "Snap out of it, okay?"
The spell broke. Tylee blinked rapidly, cheeks flushing pink as if waking from a dream. She glanced down at her lap and, almost too softly to notice, mumbled, "I wouldn't mind you being my stepbrother."
The silence that followed was instant and heavy. Morgan's eyes bulged like she'd just witnessed a car crash in real time. Tylie froze, realization crashing down on her like a tidal wave.
Did i say that out loud? her brain screamed.
Morgan leaned in, whispering with the delicacy of a bomb technician, "Yeah, you definitely did."
Tylie made a strangled sound, her face now a shade of red that belonged on warning signs. Alexander looked like he wanted to disappear into the chair. His ears reddened, his jaw clenched, and for once, he didn't have a comeback. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact like it might burn him alive.
Patricia didn't give the awkwardness a second of oxygen. She turned back to the whiteboard, eyes blazing with focus.
"Patricia," Alexander finally said, his tone calmer now, but still laced with the edge of disbelief. "I already told you — I'm not putting my dad's happiness on the line just because you've got beef with my maybe-stepmom. If he's happy with your mom, that's it. End of story."
She turned around slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly at his words. "You're fine with it?"
"I'm... not not fine," he muttered, fingers drumming lightly on the desk. "But if he's actually happy, I'm not going to sabotage that. They both seem—ugh—in love."
He practically choked on the last word, the taste of it bitter.
Patricia folded her arms across her chest, expression unreadable. "Yeah. That's the thing. They think they're in love. You know who else thought that?"
Alexander didn't answer. He didn't need to.
"…Your parents," Patricia finished softly.
A shadow passed over Alexander's face, the smirk gone, replaced by something sharper. Sadder. His jaw tightened, and his eyes dropped to the table for a long moment.
"Where are they now?" he asked, more to himself than anyone.
"Divorced," Patricia said, her voice quieter now. "A broken relationship is better than a broken marriage. Think of it that way."
Her words sank in. Heavy. Real. Not just some teenage melodrama, but the weight of two kids trying to stop their lives from changing — again.
Alexander looked up. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the tension thickened into something wordless, something raw.
He swallowed hard. His voice, when it came, was tired but steady.
"…I can't believe I'm doing this," he said. "But fine. Tell me the plan."
Patricia's eyes lit up, all fire and focus again. She turned to the board with renewed energy, her ponytail whipping as she spun. Her voice spilled out in a rush — strategic, ruthless, passionate.
And as she spoke, Alexander leaned back, watching her like someone who just realized they might've agreed to burn down a house without checking if anyone was still inside.
Absolutely — here's your **fully rewritten version** of the scene with deeper descriptions, clearer emotional beats, inner thoughts, and vivid character actions. The banter stays intact, but now it *breathes* with more tension, mood, and personality.
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The sun filtered lazily through the half-closed blinds of the rec room, painting stripes across the floor and casting a warm glow over the worn-out couch where the boys sprawled like they owned the place.
Damon sat with his feet kicked up on the low coffee table, his posture relaxed but his grin anything but innocent. He chuckled, nudging Alexander with his elbow. "Oh my God, Xander. I cannot believe it. Your parents aren't even married yet, and she's already bossing you around, bro." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "See the signs, man. You're ignoring the signs."
Alexander's jaw tensed as the words landed. The smirk on his face wavered, replaced by something tighter, more guarded. "Shut up, Damon."
The room went quiet for a beat.
But the damage had been done. Damon's teasing had poked something real, something Alexander hadn't quite wanted to acknowledge.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together slowly. "I don't know what to do, man," he said, his voice quieter now. "My heart tells me I should be happy for my dad... but my head keeps screaming not to let it happen."
Damon leaned back, arms folded behind his head like this was a therapy session he was thoroughly enjoying. "Then listen to your head, my guy," he said with a half-shrug. "If not, your heart's going to get shredded like leftover homework."
From the other end of the couch, Xavier finally spoke, his tone dry and laced with sarcasm. "Sorry, Xander. Can't hear you over the sound of your future stepmom planning the wedding."
He and Damon burst into laughter. Damon even clutched his chest, exaggerating his reaction, while Alexander just scowled, the corner of his mouth twitching in reluctant amusement.
But behind his glare, his thoughts churned.
Was itto feel that way? to not want his dad to... move on or...move too fast? He hated how it all made him feel—selfish, conflicted, powerless.
Then something shifted in his expression. His eyes flicked toward the empty seat beside them.
"Where's Gilbert?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "He's usually here by now."
Xavier's smirk faded, his posture stiffening. "I've noticed he's been a bit off lately," he admitted. "Like... not just quiet, but distracted."
Damon made a face, tilting his head like he hadn't noticed—or hadn't cared to. "How would I know?" he said with a shrug, reaching for a soda can on the table.
Alexander and Xavier exchanged a look, eyebrows raised in silent agreement.
You definitely know something.
Damon held their stares for a moment, then groaned in surrender, running a hand over his face. "Okay, okay. Don't look at me like that. Remember that girl he was into a while back? The volunteer chick?"
Alexander's eyes lit up with recognition. "Yeah. The one with the—" he gestured vaguely, searching for the right memory.
"The eyes," Xavier supplied. "That serious counselor energy even when she was a student."
"Yeah, that one," Damon said, lowering his voice slightly. "She's back… and guess who's our new counselor."
The words dropped like a rock in the middle of the room.
Alexander blinked. "Wait—what?"
Xavier's brow shot up. "The fuck?"
Damon just nodded grimly. "Yep. Man's down bad. He didn't even see it coming."
Alexander let out a low whistle. "Oh, that shit is messed up."
"Brutally messed up," Xavier added with a shake of his head. "Honestly, everything around us is crashing and burning."
Damon stretched his arms over his head with a dramatic yawn. "Yeah, pretty much everything is fucked up around you guys" His lips curled into a smug grin. "Except me. My life? Perfect."
Alexander turned slowly, one brow raised like Damon had just spoken heresy. "You're having a step-sister pretty soon," he said dryly. "Gilbert's about to get heartbroken by a counselor. And Kamsi's mom is making it her life mission to roast Xavier every time she sees him."
He leaned back, arms crossed. "You're not exactly swimming in smooth waters, bro."
Xavier snorted. "Honestly, if there's a 'perfect' in this room, it's the fan spinning above us. And even that sounds like it's ready to die."
Damon just laughed, unbothered. "Denial is a river and I'm building a vacation home right on it."
The room fell into easy laughter, the kind that didn't fix anything — but for a few minutes, made all the chaos feel a little lighter.