I walk out of the school and get on my skateboard, riding out of the traffic of parents and high schoolers. I ride down the large hill outside the school and into a neighborhood, my backpack heavy on my back. I stop my skateboard and pick it up as I walk over to the pathway I took to get to school. Trees bend over me, causing a shade. I walk about a half mile before I finally see him. "Jameson!" I yell, "What's with not coming to pick me up?" I step out of the path and onto the big open field that is my yard. Jameson stops grooming his horse, "Oh, Russel!" he groans in his heavy, syrupy British accent, much stronger than my own. "I completely forgot! What time does school get out?" I roll my eyes, "Three, Jameson. I'm going inside." I walk past him and across five acres of the yard to reach our large farmhouse. "I'm home, mum!" I yell. "Hello, Russel!" my mum yells back. Stacy runs down the stairs and bumps me as she runs toward the front door. "Watch it!" I yell to her back as she hurries toward the driveway, where her boyfriend had just pulled up in his truck. She ignores me and gets into his truck, driving off. "Mum, where's Stacy going to?" I yell. "Oh, I don't know, honey!" my mum yells. I can tell she's holding the baby. "Out, she said!" I roll my eyes and walk up the stairs, toward my bedroom. Kenny came out of his room and smiles, "Hi, Russel! How was school? Mine was awesome!" I smile and ruffle the hair of my six year old little brother, "It was good, Kenny. I'm glad yours was too." He smiles and runs downstairs to play in the yard. "WHERE'S STACY?" Amber yells. I turn to see her as she runs up to me from the attic stairs. "Out." Amber rolls her eyes, "Always! Geez, she was supposed to milk the cows with me tonight, and now I'm going to have to do it all by myself again!" She sticks her lip out and pouts toward me. I sigh, "Fine. I'll help you."
"Oh, thanks Russel! You're my favorite brother!"
"Hey!" Jameson yells as he comes back into the house, "I heard that." Amber smiles, "You were meant to!" she says happily, skipping down the stairs. I roll my eyes and close my bedroom door behind me. Other than myself, my parents have six kids. Amber and Stacy are twins and fifteen years old, (Amber is spoiled and Stacy thinks she knows everything,) Jameson is nineteen, one year older than me. He would be in college, but we all had to go back a grade when we moved to America nine years ago. Isobel is twenty four and visits one a month from college, and the youngest, Lellin, is a six month old baby girl. I'm pretty sure that after three years, we would all have American accents by now-if it weren't for the fact there are nine of us to keep us, as mum calls it, "British as ever".
"Hey, Russel."
"Hey, Charlie. What's up?"
"Do you have the science homework?"
"We didn't have any. Just studying."
"Oh, ok. Thanks." he was quiet for a minute, and I can tell he's going to hang up, so I quickly say, "So, are you going to Thomas's party friday night?" Charlie falls silent. "Um..." he says after a while, "no."
"Why not?" he's quiet again. "Uh...I...I don't think I was invited," he stammers. "Well, you are now. Invite all your friends, too. I don't know anyone but you, yet, so I thought maybe I could meet some people at this party." Charlie's silent again. "Charlie?"
"Yea, I'm here." Silence. "It's just...uh...well, to be honest, Russel, nobody actually...wants to go to Thomas's party. No one wants to be seen at a party thrown by Thomas." This is strange. "Why?"
"'Cause he's a freak. Such a slacker," I almost hear Charlie roll his eyes, "he never does anything." I shrug, though I knew he can't see me, "Well, I'm going. And so is Venice." Charlie sounds surprised, "Venice? You've met Venice?"
"Yup. She seems nice." Charlie is quiet yet again. "Uh, yea. Sure." I sigh, "What's wrong with Venice?"
"Oh! No, nothing, it's just...I don't know. I don't really know her, I guess. She kind of keeps to herself. A lot." I smile, "Maybe I can change that." Charlie laughs now, "Yea, good luck with that one. You're not the first guy to try and win over the heart or Venice Taily."
"Oh yea?"
"Yea, Russel. Yea." I chuckle, "Well, see you, Charlie."
"See ya." I hang up and fall back on my bed, a new discovery running through my mind: if you change the lettering, Venice's name is 'Venice Italy'.
© 2010
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