Last Resort

Leslie had tried all the other numbers she knew. Nobody could tell her any more about tomorrow’s big project deadline than she already knew herself.

“What a bunch of morons,” she muttered to herself as she paced back and forth across her tidy bedroom. How was it even possible that they, having been in class all week, knew less than she did after being home sick the last three days?

There was no help for it. She only had one option left.

Across the hall, she knocked on the door to her brother’s room. She could hear shouts and gunfire from whatever video game he was playing.

“No solicitors” he shouted.

She knocked again.

“Brian?”

“I said, go away!” The game sounds continued.

Leslie pushed open the door.

“Technically, you didn’t,” she said, hand on hip. “You said ‘no solicitors.'”

“You knew what I meant,” Brian snapped. “Now get out. I’m busy.”

“I need to ask you a question. About the project.”

Brian hit a key on his keyboard and the game froze. He spun around in his chair and looked at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered. This was a mistake.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Brian said, rubbing his hands together. “I love it. Little Miss Know-it-all has come crawling to me for help. I knew this day would come.”

Leslie rolled her eyes.

“Quit being such a donkey butt and come help me.”

_ _ _ _ _

*7/8/18 prompt: Story Forge, the Know-It-All

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