"Jesus Christ," he muttered when we discussed our love of the series. "Give me a break. Twilight Schmilight."
The night they arrived, the DVR was busy recording So You Think You Can Dance and the finale of Dancing with the Stars, and since we couldn't change the channel away from either of the recording shows, my brother, unhappy with his options, begged to watch a movie.
"Let's watch Twilight!" his girlfriend suggested. "Then he'll be caught up."
"I've seen it," he said. He narrowed his eyes. "You've made me watch it."
"Watch it again," she said. "Then you won't be asking us a million annoying questions during the second movie."
"Fine," he said. "Fine. WHATEVER. Anything is better than this." He pointed to the TV screen just as Legacy--shirtless again, much to my delight--lifted his partner over his head during the Viennese Waltz. "This makes me want to throw up," he said.
"It makes me want to make out," I said.
Adam pretended to retch into his hands.
So, in an effort to please him--well, sort of--I turned off SYTYCD and put in the movie. Twenty minutes into it, Adam started giggling.
"This sucks," he said. "They're really horrible actors."
None of us could disagree. In parts, the acting is really comical.
"How can you like this?" he continued. "I mean, it's so bad."
"It's hot," I said.
"It's hot if you've read the books," I corrected. "The books are good. Want to read them?"
He sent me a withering look. He probably hadn't picked up a book since college--and, let's face it, while he was there (flunking out of everything) he wasn't picking up many books anyway.
During the scene in the meadow--Twilight fans know what I'm talking about--my brother decided he'd had enough of the brow-furrowing and melodrama. He decided to make the movie fun for himself.
"Oooooh!" he sang out suddenly, in a voice that was not his own. This new voice was high and girlish, maybe a little old fashioned. "Oooooh! I'm Robert Pattinson, and I'm going to make a messy in my panties!"
"ADAM!" the rest of us shrieked in unison. He was ruining it.
"Oooooh!" he squealed again, flapping his hands in the air. "Messy in my panties!"
And the mocking didn't stop there. For the next few days, whenever there was a silence, a lull, a dip in conversation, he would suddenly fill it with his imitation. "I'm R. Pat!" he shrieked. "Ooooh! Aren't I pretty?!"
But then the strangest thing happened. After a full day of exploring the coast and eating crab cakes, we came back to the apartment and tried to figure out what we wanted to do. My brother wanted to make fondue. He'd gotten a fondue pot for his birthday--it was his latest obsession--and he was ready to make us a beer cheese fondue, and he was willing to do all the work.
"Should we go to the movie, though?" I asked. "Are we up to it?"
No one wanted to make a decision, so my brother suddenly stepped in. "Listen," he said. "Listen, listen, listen. I think we should go. We'll go. I'll make us some fondue, and then we can go to a late showing of the movie. How's that sound? Okay?"
We all stared at him.
"What?" he asked.
"You want to go to the movie!" I said. I gasped and pretended to slump into a faint in my chair.
"NO!" he said.
"You do!" his girlfriend said. "You just planned it for us! You so clearly want to go!"
"Oh, whatever," he said. He ducked his head. "I'll admit I'm kind of interested in what happens next."
"OH! MY! GOD!" my mother said.
"You are a GIRL!" I said. "What a girl!"
"Shut up!" he said. "SHUT UP!" And then he turned his back and started preparing the fondue--which was, in the end, downright delicious.
So, after we dipped an entire loaf of bread and an entire platter of vegetables into that beer-cheese mix, we went off to the theater. My brother, as previously mentioned, smuggled his beer in--perhaps so he could feel less like a Twilight-worshiping girl, which he so totally IS--and he mixed that beer with cookies we'd also smuggled in. He didn't make a peep during the whole movie. Not a single one. He didn't sing out in his Robert Pattinson voice, nor did he say anything about a messy in his panties. He just stared at the screen and then later, as we drove home, announced this to everyone:
"So, I'm totally Team Jacob," he said. "Whoever's Team Edward is lame and stupid."
"I'm Team Edward," I said.
"That makes sense."
"Whatever. You're a WOMAN," I said. "I can't believe you just admitted that."
"I have no shame," he said. "Go Team Jacob! Jacob all the way!" He pumped his fist near the window, so even the passing cars could see his insistence.
And even later, he made these stunning revelations:
And the last part of that video? That is why I have decided I am in love with his girlfriend. I hope they get married.