"Welcome back to Second Pines High School, Spartans!" Came over the intercom as we settled into our homeroom classes. "Don't forget the first pep rally to support our Spartans football team is this Friday! Everyone's invited! Be there! Also, some staffing changes for this year. Many of you know Mr. Torrance retired at the end of last year, so please be sure to welcome his replacement, Mrs. Landon who will take over in the Math Department. Also, Miss Tracey went and got married over the summer, so you may now refer to her as Mrs. Klein. Congratulations, Miss Tracey! I mean, Mrs. Klein!"
The rest of the announcements were general welcome stuff. An assembly for the Freshmen at nine, tryouts for basketball and field hockey, stuff like that.
Mrs. Watson took attendance and handed out our locker assignments before we headed to our first classes. Erica and I were in the same homeroom but she had English first and I had Music.
"I'll see you in History," she said as she headed to her classroom and I went to the Music and Arts building.
I greeted classmates I'd known my whole life as I got into the music classroom. This year I was taking choir and piano. This morning was choir.
Mr. Racicot ran us through some warm up exercises after discussing the Winter Concert and the Spring Cabaret, the Sophomore Project, his expectations for Sophomores, and the usual start of school stuff.
I smiled as we worked on the first piece he had for us to work on. A repertoire of songs just to exercise our vocal cords.
"Next week, once I've had a chance to work those vocal cords and get you all back into shape, I'll start splitting you into your duos for the Sophomore Project. I have a lot of fun things planned this year. See you all tomorrow!" Mr. Racicot said as the bell rang for class change.
I followed the rest of the class out into the hallway, bumping into Kevin Darnell, a Tenor in the class. I knew him from last year in music class and he had been in my science class.
"Watch it!" He spat at me.
I stopped, stunned. Kevin had never snarked at anyone as far as I knew. He was always polite, nice to everyone. I'd worked on a science project with him last year. He was really smart and I swear we only got an A because of him.
I watched as he stormed off.
"Ashley?" Mr. Racicot said, coming up behind me, standing like an idiot in the doorway. "Are you alright? You're going to be late for class."
"Oh," I said, coming to my senses and giving my head a shake. "Yeah. Sorry. Just, got a bit in my head for a second there, I guess."
"Well, I have this period free and if you don't mind, I'd like to go to the teacher's lounge and attempt to make what passes for coffee in there taste something like coffee," he smiled. I laughed a bit.
"Sorry," I smiled as I moved out of his way. I had English next and it was on the way to the teacher's lounge, so Mr. Racicot fell into step with me.
"Did you have a good summer?" He asked.
"Yes, thank you. I did," I smiled. "You?"
"My husband and I went to Italy for three weeks. It was beautiful. We saw an opera in Rome and rode a gondola in Venice. It was perfect. Did you do anything special?"
"Well, not quite as special as Italy. We did go see my grandparents in Seattle for a week and then went to Tahoe for a few days," I said, stopping before my classroom door.
"Well, location isn't what makes a vacation special. It's spending time relaxing and decompressing with the people you love," he said.
"I guess," I shrugged and smiled. "I gotta get to class."
"Go, go. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Sucking up to the choir master already?" Megan Ness, an Alto, like me, smiled at me. "I don't think you're his type."
I laughed with her. It was no secret that Mr. Racicot is gay.
"So, just trying to edge in for a solo?" Megan said.
"Most definitely," I said, acting like a diva. "I'll be insisting on my own dressing room at the Cabaret, obviously."
"Oh, obviously," she said in a fake posh accent. We giggled.
"Young ladies," our English teacher, Mrs. Patterson said, getting Megan and my attention.
"We may be girls, but we ain't no ladies," Megan said. The entire class burst into gales of laughter. Mrs. Patterson rolled her eyes, put her hands on her hips, but was smirking.
"Welcome back, Miss Ness," she said once the class had quieted back down. "I can already tell what kind of a year we're going to have. So if you are done interrupting me, may I please continue with the syllabus?"
"You may proceed," Megan said, and pretended to bow from her seated position. She looked like those you'd see pictures of court jesters with one leg straight out and bowing deeply? The class tittered at that.
"Please do not encourage her," Mrs Patterson smirked.
"I'm here all week. Try the veal, don't forget to tip your waitress," Megan said, putting on a voice that made her sound like an old time vaudevillian.
"One, Miss Ness," Mrs. Patterson warned Megan. Last year she'd started with this counting idea to y Megan back down. Megan is really smart. Really funny and very talented. But also really easy to distract, impulsive and a bit of a brat. Mom says she probably has ADHD and just hasn't been diagnosed. In any case, Mrs. Patterson would let her have a moment like this, but if she started taking it too far, she got three warnings. If Mrs. Patterson got to three, Megan was sent for a walk. She was allowed to walk around the school once in the hallways and then come back. It seemed to help her come back focused.
Megan sat at her desk properly.
"Sorry, Mrs. Patterson," she said. She did feel bad when she disrupted the class.
"No need to apologize. Just try to rein it in a bit, okay?"
Megan nodded and then winked at me. I rolled my eyes at her and shook my head as I listened to Mrs. Patterson discuss this year's assignments, focus, and novel studies - yes, plural. She gave us our first homework of the day. It was to be a short story, any topic we wanted, but obviously, it had to be appropriate.
"I am not making that mistake again. If you have to ask if your story is appropriate, it probably isn't. Pick something else. I want to see how much dribbled out of your brains over the summer. Zip it, Miss Ness," Mrs. Patterson pointed at Megan just as her mouth opened. She shut it quickly. I snorted with a laugh.
"She got you!" Brian Erickson whispered from behind Megan. She shrugged but smirked.
Mrs. Patterson started handing out the first book we'd be reading and told us to start on our stories for the rest of class.
When the bell rang, I was so done. I didn't know what I wanted to write about. I mean, at least it wasn't "How I Spent My Summer Vacation".
I had lunch after English and found Erica in the line in the cafeteria.
"I forgot we had lunch together!" Erica smiled as I joined her in line. She hugged me.
"Do you have Patterson for English, too?" I asked her. She nodded and rolled her eyes.
"What story are you going to write? You should write something about the super twins," she smiled.
"I hadn't thought about that. I don't know. I don't feel very creative," I said. Erica scoffed at me.
"Dude, you're the most creative person I know. You're just overthinking it right now. It's a short story. About whatever you want. You've always got something buzzing around that big brain of yours," Erica said, flinging her arm around my shoulders. I shrugged. I knew I'd come up with something. Erica was probably right.
"Oh, come on!" Someone at the front of the line yelled. "You're not listening! There's money on my lunch account!"
I looked ahead and saw Kevin arguing with the cashier. She was talking too quietly for me to hear what she was saying, but Kevin was fuming. I frowned and looked over at Erica.
"Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," she said as we watched Kevin storm out of the cafeteria.
Kevin slammed the door open and stormed out into the quad.
The line moved up and Erica and I grabbed trays and went through the line looking at what the school deemed fit for human consumption.
"Well, that meat doesn't look like it ever existed in nature," Erica said to me as we went through the hot table offerings. I took an order of French fries and some steamed vegetables. There was soup, too, so I took a small bowl of chicken noodle soup, a salad, an apple, and a bottle of water. For good measure, I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from the bakery table. Erica smiled at me.
"Until you grabbed that cookie, I thought you were going uber-healthy on me," she smiled.
"I went with safe. We know the soup is canned, the veggies are bagged and the salad is from a bag. And they never bake the cookies all the way," I shrugged.
I grabbed a couple of mayonnaise packets from the condiment table and tossed them on my tray.
"Hi there, Ashley," Cora Laveda, the cafeteria cashier smiled at me. "Welcome back."
"Hey, Cora. Good to see you," I smiled. Cora lived a few streets away from us with her son and daughter-in-law. She worked at the school in the cafeteria because she liked kids. She's a retired teacher and while she didn't want to teach anymore, she liked working with kids. So she worked in the cafeteria. She is everyone's favorite cafeteria employee. I don't think the woman has any idea what a bad mood is. I have never seen her tired, in a bad mood, or even mildly exasperated by the antics of teenagers. She always has a smile on her face.
"Did you have a good summer? How are the twins?"
Not only was Cora a former teacher, she had been a nurse as well before she decided to become a teacher. When Kira and Andrew were born, she helped Mom out from time to time with the babies. She'd left nursing in the 90s and retired from teaching before 2010. My mom worked with her son, so that's how she knew Mom had had twins and had offered to help. I was only seven when the twins were born and obviously in school. So I wasn't much help. Dad took, like, almost a month off work with Mom and the babies. But Cora came over every day once Dad was back at work full-time, and she would help Mom with the babies and somehow still have time to have a snack ready for me when I got home from school. She was like my surrogate grandma.
"They're good. I took them to the pool yesterday, but we didn't see you there," I smiled. Cora was a fixture at the pool during the summer break. She claimed it was how she relaxed, took in the sun, and held court with her friends, and other retired people in the community. Secretly, I think she keeps tabs on 'her' kids in the neighborhood. We weren't the only family she had helped with new babies. Everyone loves Cora. Every kid knows who she is. If Cora didn't help when you were a baby, you weren't born in our area.
"My son and daughter-in-law decided to spend the long weekend in Palm Springs and dragged me along. Devon is trying to convince me to fully retire and give up my job here. He went on and on about it. I finally said to him: 'Devon, if you brought me out here to this beautiful resort in the middle of the desert to convince me to give up the one small joy I have in my life taking care of my kids, I will find a ride back to LA and change the locks before you and Keisha come home.' Besides if I leave here, who will make sure you lot are eating healthy?" She looked at Erica's tray, which had a plate of fries, a piece of pizza, a can of Coke, and a cookie. Erica grimaced and grabbed an apple from the basket on Cora's cash stand. Cora smirked at her.
I smiled. Cora was just like that. Always taking care of everyone else.
She put my lunch account number in and it declined. I frowned. I knew my account had money in it. Mom and I had loaded it a week ago.
"Ugh," Cora complained. "They brought in a whole new system and I'm still trying to learn it. Hang on."
She punched a few buttons, rolled her eyes, typed in my account number, and smiled.
"There you go!" She exclaimed as the receipt popped up from the machine indicating that the transaction had gone through.
I smiled at her and picked up my tray. She went through the same procedure with Erica.
"You say hi to your brother and sister for me. Tell your mom I'll be by this week."
"I will, Cora," I smiled as Erica and I left the servery and scanned the tables for a seat.
"Erica! Ashley!" A voice called out. It was attached to a waving arm. Megan. Erica and I smiled and went to join her and our other friends.
"The Deadly Duo," Jacob Plain said, a grin on his face.
"Plain Jacob," Erica smiled as she put her tray down and took her seat. Jacob rolled his eyes at her.
"Who has Patterson for English?" Mason Carter, another of our friends, asked as he joined us at the table.
"Meagan and I are in the same class," I said.
"With me," Jacob said. "Except I was in the office and missed class."
"Already?" Erica asked. Jacob seemed to find himself in the office at least once a week. "Jake, it's literally the first day. How did you wind up in the office already?"
"It wasn't my fault!" He said. "I tripped and twisted my ankle. I had to make sure it wasn't a bleed."
Jacob has hemophilia so a twisted ankle could mean a broken blood vessel that will then bleed into the nearest joint. He already had issues with his joints from bleeds as a little kid.
"Was it?" I asked. I knew he kept some of his medication here at the school. The nurse would give him a shot of Factor VIII, a clotting factor he was missing, which made any bleeding potentially more serious. Especially internally. His elbows and knees were sort of knobbly from it. But Jacob never let it hold him back. I mean, he doesn't play sports for obvious reasons. Football and baseball are his passion so he is the team manager for both our school football and baseball teams. Sometimes he'll suit up in the catcher's gear while the team practices and catches while Tristan Scott, the starting pitcher, and also Jake's cousin, pitches to him. I don't know if Tristan was more careful when he threw to Jake, but his pitches always seemed a lot faster when he pitched in games or to Brian Peterson the starting catcher. But Jake got a taste of getting to play. He'd even get some batting practice in at the end of most practices. His stiff joints sometimes made it hard for him to swing the bat, but when he could, he was a pretty decent hitter. If there wasn't the risk of him colliding with a player on the field, he'd be a decent designated hitter.
"No. Thankfully. But I spent the period icing it anyway," he said.
"How'd you manage that?" Erica asked.
Jake shrugged.
"Stepped funny, I guess. I just sort of rolled my ankle," he grimaced at the memory of the injury.
I grimaced in sympathy for him. I'd done that before. And I didn't have to worry about further injuring myself just because I stepped funny.
"Well look who it is. The Nerd Brigade," a voice behind me said. I looked up. Madison Trainer. I rolled my eyes. I wouldn't classify her as a bully, exactly. She wasn't terribly nice, but she never crossed the line. We all used to be friends with her but in our Freshman year, she fell in with the girls who I swear, spent more time in the bathrooms doing makeup than in class doing anything productive.
"Oh. Look. It's the Bridge of Madison Cunty," Mason said.
"Clever," Madison sneered.
"Is there something we can help you with, Madison? Did you get lost again?" Megan said. "The troll den is over there."
She pointed where Madison's little group were all comparing purses and bags.
Madison sneered at us and walked off, flicking her hair behind her as she went.
"To think we used to have sleepovers with her," Erica said, rolling her eyes.
"To think we actually liked her," Megan said.
"I don't hate her," I said. "I don't like her either, but I don't hate her. It's high school. She thinks she's cool. But, Y'know what? One day, she'll probably be working for Jacob as he invents assistive devices or whatever incredible thing he winds up doing."
"I wouldn't hire her to clean my toilets," he said into his meatloaf. If that's what it was.
The five of us laughed.
"That may be the only thing she's qualified to do," another voice said from behind me.
Ashton Trainer. Madison's older brother. He's a Senior this year. He's known us all our lives and even he can't stand how Madison has changed since middle school.
"You sorry Sophomores too cool for a Senior to join you?" He asked, smiling.
"Shouldn't we ask if you are too cool for us lowly Sophomores?" Megan asked.
"I guess. But it's you guys. And it'll up your credit to have a Senior at your table," he smirked.
"Sit down, Ashton," I said. "You're not fooling anyone anyway."
Ashton is an amazing artist, he's a talented musician and plays drums and guitar. And piano. He also is on the school baseball team and water polo team. And he's smart. And good looking. And I might have a crush on him. But you didn't hear that and if you say anything, I will deny it.
We sat eating our lunches, catching up on our summers. Ashton had worked as a junior counselor at a sleepaway camp up in the Sierra Mountains. Madison was a Counsellor In Training there.
Megan traveled to Europe with her parents and visited London, Paris, Rome, Munich, Berlin, and Amsterdam. She told us all about the Red Light District where prostitution is legal. She said weed is also legal in Amsterdam, and that you can walk into a lot of stores to buy it. Also, she said, there are cafes that sell food and drink made with weed. And that there are places where people go and watch people have sex.
"We didn't go into any of them, the canal tour we took went up through the Red Light District and the guide told us about it, but I could never imagine going into a sex show with my parents!"
I could not blame her. I don't even like watching kissing scenes in movies with my parents around.
"But I met a guy from Australia outside our hotel, and we were chatting. He shared some of his weed with me. And he told me that you have to be careful buying weed in the city because outside of the Red Light District, it's not monitored the same way, and people sometimes lace it with other stuff," Megan continued.
"How did you know his was safe?"
"I'd seen him around the hotel a few times and he was at breakfast. He'd met my parents, and we'd talked with him. So I knew if anything happened, my parents would have an idea who to look for."
"I dunno," Jacob said. "Still sounds like you risked yourself."
Megan shrugged.
"Well, it turned out fine, and I'm not likely to smoke up with a stranger here."
I couldn't argue that point.
I knew Erica had spent some time away with her parents. And she'd worked at a day camp during part of the summer. Her mom was a nurse and she worked at the camp for years, so Erica had gone for free when we were younger and they hire her back now as a counsellor.
"I went to a family reunion," Mason said. "In Canada. My mom has a cousin who lives in Toronto and they have a cottage so they hosted, like, fifty people. They have a huge lawn and people pitched tents and camped out there for a week. Mom's cousin gave us rooms in the cottage because we'd traveled the furthest. I met cousins I didn't even know I had. We all exchanged social media and phone numbers and emails and stuff, and we talk all the time. It was so much fun. And meeting my cousins was, it was so cool. My mom has four sisters and a brother, so there are a lot of cousins. I have four our age, three a year older and four a year younger. We swam in the lake, canoed, sailed, and had bonfires and cookouts. It was pretty cool."
"We went to Seattle to visit my grandparents and Tahoe for a few days just with my parents. Otherwise, we were home more or less," I said.
"How are the twins?" Jacob asked.
"They're good. Brats, but good," I smirked. He smiled.
We kept on talking until the warning bell before the last period went off. We gathered up our garbage and trays, disposed of everything in the bins, and headed off to class. Erica and I had History together. And PE, which we'd have tomorrow.
We walked into the classroom and met with friends we'd not yet had a chance to see all day. Charlie was in our class and he waved as Erica and I sat down beside each other at the table beside his. I smiled and waved back at him.
The summer as a lifeguard had been good for Charlie. He swam laps all summer before and after he opened or closed the pool. He had gotten into really great shape. Not that he'd been big. Maybe... pudgy? But a summer in the sun had given him a good tan, bleached his hair a bird, and the swimming had slimmed him down. He'd been cute before. Now, he was kind of hot.
The bell rang for class to start and Mr. Hopkins started handing out our textbooks and syllabi. As he was explaining his classroom management style, the door slammed open and Kevin came, loudly, into the classroom.
"You're late, Mr. ...?"
"That's Kevin Wanless," Brianne Caplan said.
"I can tell him my own name, Brianne!" Kevin exclaimed. Brianne looked shocked. I was surprised more about the anger in Kevin's voice. I don't remember ever hearing him talk like that before.
"Settle down, you two. Mr. Wanless, you're late. Care to explain?"
"No. It's no one's business," Kevin said. He slumped into a desk at the back of the room.
"Well," Mr. Hopkins said. "If there are to be no further interruptions, let's continue, shall we? Shelly, can you please pass this back down your row for Mr. Andrews?"
Mr. Hopkins handed Shelley Anderson a textbook and syllabus to pass down the row to Kevin. He snatched it from Graham Opfer, the first baseman on the school baseball team. Graham muttered 'You're welcome, douchebag,' as he turned around. He was two rows behind me but shrugged when he saw me looking.
Graham was built for baseball. He has been playing since he was old enough to tie his own cleats. He was about six feet tall, maybe a little shorter, and had long arms and legs. He loved baseball. He played really well. He had university scouts watching him already. And rumor has it that last year a Major League Baseball team sent a scout to the championship game. No one knows if that's true, but I'd like to think so.
And Graham isn't one of those kids who's doing a sport because his parents want him to make the majors or something. Graham really loves baseball. He's really good at it. He has a brain for statistics. He does amazingly well in math and music. But not so well in English or History.
I tutor him sometimes. We've been friends since diapers. He's three months younger than me and our moms are friends, so we grew up together. He's a brother to me like Erica is a sister. Okay, Erica and I are closer. But still, Graham used to protect me on the playground if he thought I was being bullied. He always shared his snacks with me and we got each other goofy gifts for Christmas. It's our tradition. I don't even do that with Erica.
So, the tradition started this way, we were eight years old, the twins had just been born and I was feeling a little left out. Everyone was oohing and ahhing over the babies and how 'petite and tiny' Kira was and how Andrew looked so much bigger, even though he was the younger twin. I didn't understand how that made any sense, but still, I didn't understand the fuss over a couple of babies. And how come they got all the presents?
So, Graham, wanting to make me laugh, went to a thrift store, found a doll, and painted all over its face. He gave it horrible makeup and found an outfit - or made it. I don't know. The thing was hideous and hilarious. Ever since then, we got or made each other some sort of horrible and hilarious gift. The more horrible, the better. And the funnier the better. I have every one of those gifts starting with that first hideous doll.
Mr. Hopkins started going through the syllabus and explaining his marking scheme. We had one major project this term as well as a couple of essays and then tests, quizzes, and of course, homework. Which he made sure to assign just before the last bell. Everyone groaned as he assigned readings from the textbook and a set of questions.
Once we were finally free from class, I headed to the front of the school with Erica. We'd walk home together, but we always met Megan and Graham as well. We all lived within a block of each other, so we walked to and from school together.
Kevin pushed past me as we left the classroom.
"Outta my way!" He said, pushing past.
"What is up with him?" I frowned as Erica and I made our way to our lockers and then to the front of the school. I dropped off a couple of books and binders, locked the door, and continued on my way.
"I heard his parents got divorced over the summer," Erica said. "He's probably still dealing with that."
"He's not the first kid to have his parents divorce. He doesn't have to be a jerk to everyone," I reasoned. Erica shrugged.
"Everyone deals differently, I guess."
Graham and Meagan were already out front waiting for Erica and me.
"Well, kids, how was your first day of your sophomore year?" Megan asked, holding her fist under my chin as though she had a microphone and was interviewing us.
"Are you ever serious?" Erica asked Megan, smiling.
"Life is way too short to be serious all the time. So, no. Never. Not if I can help it," Megan grinned. I rolled my eyes and smiled at her.
"Hey, Ash," Graham said. "You're gonna help me with the English again this year, right?"
"Nope," I said. "You are on your own, my dude."
"Seriously?" He said, a little worried.
"Graham, would I do that to you?" I asked, looking at him with a false hurt look.
"Just checking," he smiled.
We walked home talking about the first day, the teachers who were new to us this year, and what we thought, teams, clubs, and other extracurriculars we were thinking of. I'd be joining choir as usual. I thought I might try out for the girls' basketball team this year. I wasn't a horrible player. My dad had played in high school and college, and he'd taught me how to play. Dad and I watched Lakers games together and a few times, he'd gotten tickets and taken me to a game.
The twins' school was on my way home, so I picked them up after school. The high school finished at 2:30 and the elementary school at 2:45. It was a fifteen-minute walk from the high school to their school and then five more home. The twins knew to wait at the gate for me. And as every day last year, I saw the two of them standing by the gate, talking and laughing. I love how much they really do get along.
"Ugh. We have to pick them up?" Graham pretended to whine.
"Ugh, Graham Crackers is still your friend?" Andrew said to me.
"Ugh, you're still my brother?" I smiled at Andy.
Graham and Andy gave each other a high five. Graham held his hand up so Andy had to jump to reach him. He had the biggest grin on his face when he hit Graham's hand.
Kira slipped her hand into mine. I saw Emma standing by the gate.
"Do you want to ask Emma to walk with us?" I asked Kira. She shook her head.
"What happened?" I asked Kira, quietly.
"Emma's friends with Erin and Patti," she said. "I don't think she wants to be friends with me anymore."
"Aww, Kira, why do you think that? Did she say something?"
"Erin and Patti don't want to be my friends, and now she's friends with them, so I guess she won't want to be friends with me now."
"You don't know that for sure," I said. "She's new. She's going to want to meet other people, too. And what's up with Erin and Patti?"
Kira shrugged but didn't say anything else. Andy, on the other hand, was talking Erica's ear off. I put my arm around Kira and smiled down at her. She gave me a slight smile back. I ruffled her hair and gave her another side hug.
As we got to the corners of our respective streets, my friends went off to their houses and I continued on with Andy, Kira, and Erica.
I let the four of us into the house and went into the kitchen. I pulled out cheese, crackers, and some lunch meat and put it on the dining room table. Erica, Kira, and Andy sat at the table, pulled out homework, though Kira and Andy didn't have anything, really, and ate a snack while we worked on our respective homework.
Kira and Andy pulled a stack of papers out and put them at the end of the table. Forms for Mom to fill out when she got home. I had a few, too, so I pulled mine out and put them at the end of the table with Kira and Andy's.
I let the twins go downstairs to watch TV since they didn't really have any homework. Erica and I worked on our short stories for English and our History homework. Using my phone, I opened Spotify and turned on our shared playlist to listen to as we worked. We did our History homework together first and then started in on our English homework.
While we were working, the doorbell rang. I got up to get it and opened the door to find Emma standing at the door, a smile on her face.
"Hi, Ashley. Is Kira home?" She asked, smiling.
"Hey, Emma. Yeah. She's just downstairs. I'll get her. You want to come in?"
"Thank you," she said, coming into the entryway.
"Kira!" I shouted down the stairs. "Someone's here for you!"
"Okay!" She called up the stairs and I went back to the dining room table with Erica. I heard Kira come up the stairs and go toward the entryway.
"Hi Emma," Kira said, a little warily.
"Hi, Kira. Can you come outside to play?"
"I don't know. Hang on," I heard Kira say. I smiled. Looked like Emma still wanted to be friends.
"Ashley," she said coming up to my side. "Can I go outside and play with Emma?"
"Okay. But you don't leave the street. Got it?" I said.
"Got it!" She smiled and ran back to the door.
"Cool!" I heard Emma say to whatever Kira had said, quietly to her.
The two of them went out the front door and I smiled again.
"And she was worried Emma didn't want to be her friend," Erica said, tearing a piece of sliced chicken and eating it piece by piece as she kept tearing smaller and smaller pieces.
"How did you know that?" I asked her.
"Kira isn't as quiet as she think she is," Erica smiled at me through a mouthful of chicken.
I smiled and went back to my story for English.
A little after five, Mom walked through the door.
"Hi, Ashley! Hey Erica," she smiled at us. "How was the first day?"
"Not bad," I said. "Not much homework. We've finished our History homework and we're working on English."
"Kira's outside with some friends. Where's Andy?" Mom asked.
"He's downstairs. They did whatever homework they had, and had a snack. And wait, Kira is outside with friends? Plural?"
"Yeah. Three girls," Mom smiled. I smiled too.
"We put all our forms for you there," I said, pointing at the booklets for Mom to go through.
"Great. So I have homework now?" Mom laughed.
"Seems only fair," I said. "We did ours. Now it's your turn."
Mom shot me a look and I started laughing.
"I should head home. I'll see you tomorrow, Ash," Erica said, picking up her work and shoving it into her bag.
"See ya. I'll talk to you later," I said, as she slung her bag on her back.
"Say hi to your mom and dad," my mom said as Erica hugged her goodbye. Mom went upstairs to change out of her work clothes quickly.
"I will," Erica smiled. "See ya, Ash."
Kira came in smiling and rosy-cheeked as Erica was going out.
"Ashley! Guess what?" She said, running up to me, where I was packing up my own school stuff.
"What?" I asked.
"Not only does Emma want to be my friend, but Erin and Patti do, too! They said they didn't talk to me a lot last year because Andy was always around and they don't like him!"
"Why don't they like Andy?" Mom said, coming down the stairs. "And who doesn't like him?"
"Erin and Patti don't like Andy because he's a gross boy," Kira said, leaning on the dining room table as Mom started flipping through our school forms. "I told them he's not that gross, but they said I have to say that because he's my brother."
Mom smiled at Kira and then turned away and winked at me. I smiled back.
I put my backpack by the front door and went back into the kitchen to help Mom make dinner.
"Go relax. You've had the twins since you got home and homework, and you had them all day yesterday. I can handle dinner myself. I'm just going to make Garbage Spaghetti.
Garbage Spaghetti is what we call the dish Mom makes with leftovers. She'll chop up any meat we have, and any veggies, warm them in a pot of pasta sauce, and make spaghetti. Sometimes we have two or three different types of meat in the fridge. We call it Garbage Spaghetti because it saves the leftovers from going in the garbage. The twins came up with it. Okay, Andy came up with it. But the name stuck, and so that's what it's called.
I hugged my mom and went downstairs to the TV room.
"My turn, brat," I said, taking the TV remote from Andy's hand.
"Hey!" He complained. "I was watching!"
"And now it's my turn," I said, sticking my tongue out at him.
"I'm telling Mom," he complained.
"Go for it," I said, not caring. Mom would take my side. Besides. Dinner would be ready by six anyway. He's had the TV since four-thirty.
I flipped through the channels until I found something to tune out to, and texted with Erica until Andy came pounding down the stairs.
"Dinner time," he said, sullenly. Guess Mom did side with me.