My heart started beating faster as the clock got closer to seven.

“Are you reading this?” I heard my brother yell as I tried to make the apartment look some what presentable.

“Obviously.”

“Wow, so my sister does have good taste in something.”

“Since when do you read?” I asked.

“He writes it so well, and I totally agree with his opinion about wars and drafts.” he said, ignoring my comment.

“Definitely and I also love the way he writes.”

“I hate how he thinks he is not the hero though, like his last line confuses me I survived, but it’s not a happy ending. I was a coward. I went to war.” he said flipping to the end.

“Exactly! He would have been a coward if he fled to Canada, but instead he stayed and fought!"

I couldn’t believe we were actually having a civil conversation.

“So why exactly are you cleaning up?”

“Someone’s coming over to work on a project with me,” I replied getting back to work.

“Robin?” he said winking.

Why does everyone think that when I’m referring to a boy I mean Robin?