Prompt: Three Reasons
"Give me one good reason."
Mike glowered at me, crossing his arms over his chest. "Because I'm bigger than you, and I can beat you up."
I rolled my eyes and glared just as hard at him. "You wouldn't hit me. I'm your little sister. Try again."
"Because you'll get hurt playing street hockey. You're just a little kid."
"I'm the same age you were when you started playing with them!" I shot back. "And I'm just as big as you were too."
He made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded like it was either a growl or a laugh. Probably a growl. "You are not!"
"Sure I am! Go ask Mom if you don't believe me."
He didn't move, except to ball his hands into fists. "Well... well, none of my friends want you to tag along with us!" he finally snapped.
For a second, even though I knew something he didn't know, I felt hurt by that. Mike and I were only two years apart, and we'd spent nearly every summer of my life hanging out together, sometimes with his friends, sometimes with mine. I'd always considered his friends to be my friends too.
Then I remembered the thing I knew. "Oh yeah?" I challenged, and for a second he looked smug. "Well, Charlie was the one who asked me to play, and he said JT and Danny want me to play too. He said they're inviting a new guy from school, and they need someone else to make the teams even. So there!"
Mike huffed angrily, then shoved a hockey stick at me. "Fine," he snapped. "But don't come crying to me if I hurt you trying to get to the puck."
"Fine," I agreed, shoving his helmet back at him, "as long as you don't either."