The Bro Code
Page 25
“Can you tell Olivia to turn up the music?” she asked as we headed away from the pool and into the O’Connors’ backyard.
Every year, Eliza and Carter held this huge end-of-school party, which was an even bigger deal this year, because of graduation and everything. Ms. O’Connor had it pretty much down to a science. Snacks by the pool, snacks by the badminton net in the yard, snacks inside—mostly it was a party full of snacks.
She and my mom were in the kitchen at that moment, in fact, making sure the snack situation was under control. My dad was as far away from this party as he could be, since most of the soccer team was there. And his presence would’ve been weird.
Coach Dad had stopped pushing me as hard after I got my Clarkebridge scholarship. Turned out that when he wasn’t spending as much time with me, he could spend more time with my mom. I didn’t know whether he’d cleaned up his act with her, but they seemed happy. They hadn’t grounded me since Jeff’s party either.
They’d been close, however: When Chef Pizzeria showed up covered in Jell-O and pillows in the school hallway, no one knew who the culprits were. My mom even suspected Jamal until pictures made the town newspaper, featuring striped pillowcases that looked suspiciously like mine. She’d yelled at me for half an hour. But with the image of me at college and unable to cause trouble at her house looming in the near future, she ended up just letting it go.
She was the only one. Chef’s pillow fort de Jell-O would obviously go down in Cassidy High School’s history. The owners of Straight Cheese ’n’ Pizza even proudly displayed Chef’s newspaper picture on their wall, next to a picture of their three extremely handsome and quite stylish best customers. They never said anything to us, but they knew.
Shrieks from the pool faded as we reached our former soccer teammates by my favorite tree in the O’Connors’ yard—the most sacred place Carter and I could think of to do this. Jeff Karvotsky, the new captain, and the youngest ever at Cassidy High, had the troops rallied for us. The guys diligently waited as Carter, Austin, and I pulled them away from the party.
“We got you guys a good-bye gift,” said Carter, “because we’re the best.”
“And because we’re going to be way too far away to bail you guys out of trouble,” said Austin.
“Not that we would anyway,” I added. Even though Carter and I were going to Clarkebridge together, Austin was going to college in Canada. He wanted to try living in another country, though that barely counted. Something about foreign girls.
Carter held out the Top Secret notebook like ancient priests held out their scriptures. The underclassmen rolled their eyes at us, like they no longer had time for us anymore. I knew they were anxious to be the big dawgs, but no matter what they said, the three of us would always “have it.”
Jeff reached for the notebook, but Carter took it away at the last second. “Uh uh,” he said, “First, you guys gotta promise that this will never fall into the wrong hands.”
“Is it pictures of your mom?” said a kid in the back.
“Hey,” shouted Austin. “That’s someone’s mom you’re talking about. Show some respect.”
The guys calmed down. I grinned. Yup. Still got it.
“Do you promise?” Carter asked. “You won’t show this to anyone outside of your broskis. No adults. Definitely no teachers.”
“Obviously, we promise,” said Jeff.
“You have to swear it,” said Austin.
“We swear, okay?”
Carter handed Jeff the notebook. Our former soccer teammates gathered around Jeff to see what all of our overhyped nonsense was about. Jeff’s jaw dropped. “No way . . .”
“The Bro Code?” said Kevin Light, one of the guys on defense. “I didn’t think this was real.”
“Seriously, dude?” Jeff shook his head.
“Get it together.” Another defender, Paul Jones, clapped Kevin on the back.
“It’s real all right,” said Austin, “Just, um . . .” he looked at me.
“Updated,” said Carter. “We’re leaving you guys with everything we know about it.”
“Learn from us,” I said. “And don’t screw up.”
Jeff flipped through the notebook. “Rule number 15,” he read aloud, “A bro shalt not ghost.”
Carter nodded. “That’s right. You send a text.”
“No taking the easy way out with her,” I added. “You’ll be glad you didn’t.”
“Or him,” said Austin. “Per rule 18.”
Jeff balanced the fat notebook on his arm. Kevin and Paul helped him, flipping the pages back as fast as they could.
“A bro shalt not make fun of,” said Paul, “the sexual or gender orientation of other bros. The consequence of such an assumption results in that bro buying the other bros the dinner of their choice.”
“It can get very expensive,” said Austin.
“Thanks, guys,” said Jeff. “We won’t let you down.”
“You’d better freaking not, Karvotsky,” said Carter, “or we’ll come for you.”
I caught Austin’s eye and he smirked. Both of us suppressing the urge to say that’s what she said. Which, as we’d discussed, violated rule 18.
The guys immersed themselves in the treasure we’d bestowed upon them.
“Bye, high school,” said Austin.
Carter laughed. “Good.”
Austin shuffled his feet as the bittersweetness started to settle in. “We’re still gonna . . .” he said.
“’Course,” said Carter.
“Carter already bought an extra sleeping bag for our room,” I said. “We’re expecting you to come visit like every weekend, man.”
“Nice.” Austin looked at me. Then Carter. “Those cannonballs aren’t gonna explode themselves.”
“Lezzgo,” said Carter. They ran back to the out-of-control pool. I chased after them, but also tried to slow everything down and soak in the last memories I’d have of high school.
“Hey, Maguire!” someone called as I made it back to the edge of the pool.
Eliza held one of Carter’s massive Super Soakers. “Any last words?”
I tapped my chin, pretending to think about it. “I think you know already, O’Connor. Something about remembering me being eighty—”
She cut me off by pulling the trigger and jetting water, video-game style, like I’d taught her.
It stung as it hit my stomach. “Oof,” I said.
“Are you okay?”
“Why don’t you come here and see?”
“Are you going to push me in the pool?”
“Nah,” I grinned. “That doesn’t sound like me.”
Eliza dropped the gun and tiptoed across the pool deck. It took her a few seconds as she had to weave around guys punching a volleyball and girls lounging on the deck. “You look fine,” she said.
“Don’t you forget it.”
“Shut—” she began to say, until I leaped off the edge of the pool and pulled her in with me.
The Bro Code
By Austin Banks, Nick Maguire, and Carter O’Connor—the OBs
Rule Number 1: Bros* before hoes**
*A bro is any dude, chick, they, or robot in a bro’s circle of friends.
**A hoe is any dude, chick, they, or robot who is toxic, disingenuous, or only wants to be around you for attention.
Rule Number 2: A bro shalt love barbecues.
Rule Number 3: A bro shalt always honor a high five, low five, fist bump, chest bump, knuckle knock, and so on.
Rule Number 4: A bro shalt not gloat about winning, their team winning, or their bro winning . . . after the weekend is over.
Rule Number 5: A bro shalt accept the outcome of rock-paper-scissors.
Rule Number 6: A bro shalt chew with their mouth closed.
Rule Number 7: A bro shalt treat their mother like a queen.
Rule Number 8: In a game of truth or dare, a bro shalt choose “dare.”
Rule Number 9: A bro shalt not let other bros be alone on holidays.
Rule Number 10: A bro shalt not skip ab workouts.
Rule Number 11: A bro shalt text a love interest whenever a bro wants.
Rule Number 12: A bro shalt only gossip face-to-face. Never over text, social media, or otherwise.
Rule Number 13: A bro shalt not let bros do stupid things . . . without taking a video.
Rule Number 14: A bro shalt not mock a bro’s love interest.
Rule Number 15: A bro shalt not ghost.
Rule Number 16: A bro shalt always be willing to pick up the tab. Or split it.
Rule Number 17: A bro shalt not be ashamed of what makes them happy. Unless it’s Californian sports teams.
Rule Number 18: A bro shalt not assume the gender or sexual orientation of other bros. The consequence of such an assumption results in that bro buying the other bros the dinner of their choice.
Rule Number 19: A bro shalt only make bros and love interests cry happy tears.
Rule Number 20: A bro shalt always finish telling a joke. They will never, under any circumstances, let it go without a punchline.
Rule Number 21: A bro shalt shower at least once a week, whether they need to or not.
Rule Number 22: A bro shalt not cheat.
Rule Number 23: A bro shalt never make their bros choose between other bros.
Rule Number 24: A bro shalt not lose on purpose . . . to anyone over the age of ten.
Rule Number 25: A bro shalt decide for themselves which rules are worth following.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First, I thank you, cool reader, for spending hours of your life you’ll never get back on reading this. And thank you for reading the acknowledgments, since almost no one does. I hope you laughed at least once. What I wrote on these pages means one thing to me, but when you come to it with your own experiences and perspectives, it becomes something new entirely. Thank you for making The Bro Code come to life.
To my Wattpad readers and friends, thank you for supporting my writing and helping me grow. Special thanks to Wattpad readers who read this story when I originally wrote it in 2012 and have come back for this tale eight years later. We would not be here without you.
Thank you to my superhero editor, Jane Warren, for your incredible help taking a book I wrote in high school and pushing me to turn it into this. Your belief in this story and characters helped me see myself as a “real” writer.
Thank you, Deanna, Caitlin, Jen, and the wizards on the Wattpad Books team who selected this book for publication and worked so hard to get it into the world. Your dedication and time spent on producing this into an actual book blows my mind, and I’m so excited and humbled to have had this experience with you.
To Gabby, Maggie, Emily, and Maisie, thank you for unloading the dishwasher when it was my turn, but I was on a word count roll, and never complaining when I made noise in the kitchen at 1:00 a.m. while I was writing. You truly lived with the blood, sweat, and tears that went into this project.
Thank you, Mom and Dad, for having me, making me waffles, and not reading this until I told you it was ready. Oh—and thank you for pushing me to take writing classes and never telling me that being an author was a bad idea, even if you wanted to.
Thank you, Apple and Maddie, for reading this a million times and letting me know if something was stupid. Thank you for the dog gifs, the giraffe memes, and being my biggest fans. Or, at least, pretending to be.
To Kevin, thank you for teaching me about sports and video games. And thank you for always bringing me a snack or tea, especially when I didn’t ask for it. Without you, this book would have taken twice as long,
To my friends and teammates, thank you for the anecdotes, slang tips, and ideas about being a bro. Thanks for being there to keep me sane and understanding when I had a deadline. You guys are the true O.Bs.
Thank you to the #MeToo movement for bringing important stories into our culture, championing women artists, and for making my ex-boyfriends wonder if this book is about them. It’s not.
To everyone else, thank you. You know who you are, and you know why.
About the Author
Elizabeth A. Seibert has been an author, sunscreen-obsessed lifeguard, barbecue-loving waitress, finance reporter, nine-to-five marketer, and aspiring superhero. Her stories on Wattpad have amassed over thirty million reads, and she’s been featured in Imagines: Celebrity Encounters Starring You (Simon & Schuster). Elizabeth currently lives in Massachusetts, USA, where she loves to cook and play board games and ultimate frisbee. The Bro Code is her debut novel. Visit at www.elizabethseibert.com.
Copyright
Copyright © 2020 Elizabeth A. Seibert. All rights reserved.
Published in Canada by Wattpad Books, a division of Wattpad Corp.
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No portion of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the express written permission of the copyright holders.
First Wattpad Books edition: September 2020
ISBN 978-1-98936-532-8 (Trade Paper original)
ISBN 978-1-98936-539-7 (eBook edition)
Names, characters, places, and incidents featured in this publication are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events, institutions, or locales, without satiric intent, is coincidental.
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About the Publisher
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