Loki Nál, soon to be Skywalker, was not a happy camper. His father, on the other, was. And that just made his day even worse.
“Father, I really don’t understand how you can just leave mother for…for this one-eyed beast with a savage for a son!”
Loki huffed and crossed his arms, leaning down further in the passenger seat of his father’s BMW. His dark green plaid shirt rose up a little with the seat belt, exposing his shiny Nintendo controller belt buckle. His black, skinny-jean clad knees hit the glove compartment and he cursed softly, straightening his legs as far as he could to stretch the long limbs. He glanced at his marker-infused yellow Chucks, silently reciting every word he had written on them.
“You know better than to mention that wench in front of me, Loki. Plus, Odin isn’t as terrible as you think he is. He’s just been…in a rut these past few years because of the passing of his wife. And Thor is not a savage.”
“He sure eats like one…” Loki mumbled something about last Thanksgiving and glared at the street over the dashboard.
“Besides, he’s going to be your brother as soon as Odin and I wed in New York. Maybe you can teach him some table manners before the wedding?”
The dark haired teen sat up in his seat and reached for his iPod Nano out of his back pocket, placing the blue Skullcandy buds into his ears. He set the MP3 device on shuffle and cranked up the volume, drowning out his father’s excited wedding plans with Jack White.
The wedding was three weeks from now. In three weeks, Laufey Nál would wed Odin Skywalker. In three weeks, he would have that thundering oaf of a teenager, Thor Skywalker, as his brother.
In three weeks, Loki’s life would be total hell, as far as he was concerned.