Jonathan let the door slam behind him. "I'm home!" he called out, as he threw down his sports bag, which had his soccer clothes in it. He had just finished competing in a match, where he had scored two goals, including the game winner, and was feeling really good about himself. "Anybody here?" he called out.
"We're in here," his older brother, Jake, called from the living room. Jonathan went into the living room and saw both of his brothers watching TV. "How was the game?" Jake asked.
"Awesome, as usual," Jonathan said, rather smugly. "I scored both goals, and was the hero of the game! Everyone was cheering for me at the end."
"Don't get cocky, little bro," Jake said. "I can still outplay you any day of the week."
"Yeah, don't get cocky!" Alex, his younger brother, repeated. He had the habit of repeating his older two brothers recently.
"Well, I'd like to see you try," Jonathan responded. "Coach says if I keep playing this well, I might be able to go pro someday."
"Yeah, pro at being a dweeby little brother," Jake said as he stood up, reached over and mussed up Alex's hair. Alex hated when his brother did that, but, since he was still outmatched in both the height and the strength category, he let it slide.
He walked over to the kitchen. "Did mom leave us anything for dinner before she left?" he asked.
"Nah, Jonathan," Jake replied, "just fix one of the frozen dinners. That's all we really have right now."
"We also have a brand new gallon of milk!" Alex chimed in.
Jonathan rolled his eyes. He hated the frozen dinners that his mom always bought, and he didn't really drink milk any more, even with his cereal, as he preferred it dry. He opened the fridge, looking for something, anything that sounded better. It was pretty bare; the only other things he saw all looked like they had mold on them and had been in there for months.
Alex had walked into the kitchen, and was looking into the fridge with Jonathan. "Pretty slim pickins, isn't it?" Alex asked.
"Yeah," Jonathan replied, shrugging. Then his eyes fell onto the gallon of milk. It looked whiter than usual, and popped out at him. It just gave off the sense of being fresh, and he had the oddest urge to have a glass.
"That milk sure looks good, doesn't it?" Alex asked. "Why don't we each have a glass?"
"You can count me out," Jake called from the living room. "Milk is for babies."
"Whatever," Jonathan muttered. He grabbed the gallon and set it out on the counter, then grabbed two glasses. He poured them full and looked at the milk. There was something different about it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Shaking it off as nothing, he put the milk back in the fridge, handed the glass to his kid brother, and they both sat down at the table to drink it.
The rest of the night went by as normal. The boys watched some more TV, they each did their homework, played a little video games, then went to bed. Jonathan and Alex shared a room, while Jake got his own room down the hall. As Jonathan brushed his teeth, he felt an odd gurgling in his stomach, not like he was sick, but like something was causing his stomach to work overtime. Shrugging, he rinsed out his mouth, went back into his room, and turned out the light.
"Goodnight, Jonathan," Alex said, lying down in his bed.
"Goodnight, Alex," Jonathan responded.
As Jonathan drifted off to sleep, he thought about how good it felt to be the hero at the game, and how much he wished he could feel the same way at home. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, and when he did so, he was out like a light.
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