Four

 

Ugh. Whoever said Mondays were the worst didn’t live until Wednesday. The crossing point of the week; the wonderful time between starting and ending. Stupid Socrates.

“Hey, Katy.” Nathan’s car pulled up alongside mine. I had gotten a little lost that morning, taking the wrong turn onto Jay Street instead of Pearl Avenue.

“Hi,” I muttered as I opened my car. I forgot to roll up the windows, so I had to start the car again and roll up the dang windows.

“So how are you liking Vera Hill so far?”

I stopped rummaging through my bag. I knew that question would come sooner or later. “I dunno,” I murmured. I was starting to like a few select people, but definitely nothing else.

“Well, I hope you come to enjoy it as much as us!” he called over his shoulder.

I smiled and waved him on. I tried to leave my hair down—honestly, I did—but it didn’t seem to work. It was still everywhere and I hated when things were everywhere. They should be nice and somewhat orderly. Well, orderly messed up, I guess.

“Hey, Katja.” It was a voice I didn’t recognize.

I turned to see the pure beauty incarnate, Anna. I just stood there, probably with a scared expression on my face, remembering how coldly she had regarded me my very first day. I didn’t say anything; just stood there waiting for her to state her reason for being in my presence.

She just stared back at me with the green cat eyes that probably triggered my horrible nightmares. I had only seen people with those in movies—the horror movies.

“Yes?” I asked, putting on my best why-are-you-here face.

“Hm. Nothing.” Just as strangely as she had walked over, she walked away, looking over her shoulder once in a while. She neatly dodged all students, even as she looked over her shoulder—a feat I would have failed at.

“That was weird,” I muttered, picking at a stray thread off of my cardigan sweater.

“What was?”

The voice made me jump. I turned around to see Chris standing right behind me, laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re a little skittish.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not everyday someone’s gorgeous creepy twin just suddenly appears and just disappears for no stated reason,” I muttered, picking up the pencil I had dropped. And borrowed from the most gorgeous cross of Paul Wesley and John Mayer. It was like a freaking chromosome made in heaven.

“Gorgeous? Anna is not gorgeous. But I know someone who is.”

I suddenly thought of Rosie. Where was she?

“So are you getting used to small boring farm towns?” he asked, his gray eyes striking me like silver daggers. Well, the nice kind of dagger.

I started walking and he walked with me (yes!). I contemplated the question for a moment and bit into my apple I had picked up on my way out the door. I had not chosen the coffee that morning—deciding I didn’t really need the extra energy.

“I guess. I don’t really like it as much as I did St. Paul. Vera Hill doesn’t seem to have a lot of…energy.” I looked around at a few moping students that proved my theory, not counting to less-dead, bouncy ones.

Chris chuckled. “Yeah. Hey I gotta get to class. See you around, beautiful.” He walked away as if he had said nothing else than ‘see you around’.

I stood there, flushed, until the late bell finally convinced me I needed to get to class.

 

That day, when I got home from school, there was a note on the counter.

Hey, baby, I won’t be home for a while later—work stuff. Anyway, Savannah called and she’s coming to visit. I know, she’s a bit strange but she said she had something dire to tell us. So be nice to her? Dinner’s in the unpacked and newly-stuffed fridge.

Love,

Mom

Ugh! Savannah hadn’t even lived out a full week in her “new life” and she already wanted to come back? Good God! My phone started ringing in my pocket and I had to dig in my long cargo pants to even get a hold of it.

“Hello?” I answered, rummaging through a few boxes around the kitchen, trying to find a pot and my raspberry pomegranate green tea.

“Oh em gee!” Leah squealed. “How are you!?”

I laughed. “You just talked to me last night, Leah Grand.” Leah Grand was her nickname because she always did stupid stuff, so we made fun of her saying, “Grand, Leah, grand…”.

“Yes I know! Anyway, how are things down in I-oh-wah?” I could hear giggling on the other side of the phone and I guessed it was Denise or Desiree.

I found what I was looking for and brought my water to a boil and sought out a box of SpongeBob Sqaurepants Cheez-its. “Boring.” I sighed, thinking of way happier times back in St. Paul.

“Oh. Any cute guys?” More giggling.

I couldn’t help but to smile. Typical Leah Grand. “It’s only been four days, Leah. Besides, I’m not really looking for that kind of stuff.” I stared at my tea bag, plopping it up and down in my small smiley-face mug. I could smell the pomegranate already and raised to cup to my lips.

“Oh please,” Leah snorted. “You just don’t want to date because of Aiden.” Her voice was so accusatory, so mean, so cold—

My tea went flying everywhere, burning hot tea scalding my fingertips and part of my leg. “Ohmygod!” I screeched, clawing at my baggy cargo pants and trying to get them off before the tea burnt my leg.

“What? You know it’s true. I gotta fly, talk to you later. Oh, and another thing, I’m dating Aiden.”

The line went dead.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Leah Willis, my best friend since kindergarten, thought to bring up my worst failed relationship and have a relationship with him after all! I had on my underpants and my t-shirt, my fingertips burning and pleading for attention of the medical kind. I leaned against the cabinet and sank gracefully (for once) to the floor.

The world hated me. I loathed the world back. Leah obviously wasn’t my friend anymore. I wasn’t her friend either. Was there any rest for the not-wicked? Because it doesn’t seem like it.

 

“Katja! What are you doing!?” Kassia came through the same kitchen door as I had about a mere thirty minutes ago.

I moaned and opened my eyes, hearing the boys come in through the side door. I also remembered my mom had told me to call the local day care center and pick up Phillip Morris. Guess I just forgot.

“Are you okay?”

I heard Jones talking to Jesse, sounding very excited about something. Then I heard the gasps as they, too, came to stand over me. I was such a drama queen. A little emotionally unstable. But Leah was supposed to be my best friend; she was partially responsible for my hatred for this town.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, getting up a little dazed.

“What happened?” Jones asked, catching my arm. He was such a sweet little boy. A little weird though. Never talked to anyone but Jesse and was always sketching weird things or murmuring to himself.

“Aiden…Leah…” I was still confused as to whether they had had a thing when I was living there, and that that was the real reason that Aiden broke up with me, but whatever.

“Oh. C’mon, Katja,” Kassia said, taking my arm from Jones and leading me up the stairs. Thankfully, I didn’t have to mess with the stupid door because Kassia got it for me. I stumbled up the stairs, assuring myself and Kassia that I’d be okay for now. I just needed to think about things. Basically my whole life, that’s all.

“Are you sure?” she asked. She was only in sixth grade. What did she know about this stupid stuff and what did she think she could do to help?

“Yes, I’m sure,” I said, putting on a pair of flannel pajama pants. “Now go away you little brat.” I turned on her as quickly as I did everyone else. That was just me.

“Whatever! You’re so mean, Katja! You just don’t know anything!” she yelled, stomping down the stairs crying.

I just shrugged. Whatever.

 

Okay, so the most annoying thing in my life so far might just be my little sister but one of my biggest—and I mean fattest, hugest, humongous!—pet peeves of all time is when my mom tries to talk with me. Maybe that’s considered being a little distant and emo-ish (which I am certainly not!) but she needs to stop trying to get into my life.

“So, honey, what’s up?” My mom just waltzed into my room the same day I had my tea breakdown and I suspected Kassia had told her. I eyed her suspiciously as she half-laid, half-stood on my bed.

“Uh…” I knew that if I yelled at her, she would totally go psycho mom on me. So I just played it cool and awkward. “Can you please leave?” I asked, as nicely as I could manage.

Her expression grew from semi-bright and cheerful to total storms. “Katja Stephanie! I am your mother!”

“And I am your daughter,” I muttered, hoping she didn’t hear.

“Katja Stephanie Marie! You need to be more respectful towards your father and I!” She grunted and stomped out of the room. I heard her call from down the stairs, “You’ll be grounded if you keep that attitude up!”

“Whatever!” I called back.

“I’m taking your phone away! Don’t get an attitude with me!”

“I said, ‘WHATEVER!’” Honestly, I don’t like fighting with my mom, but she totally sets me up for this stuff! And she knows it, too!

I heard my mom stomp angrily down the stairs. “You. Are. Grounded!” she yelled, for one last time, before slamming her bedroom door and surely just collapsing onto the bed.

Whatever, Mom. You can’t win everything and I’m going to show you that you can’t control me. No freaking way; I’m a person. Respect is a two way thing, Mom and I’m not gonna give you something that I don’t get back.

 

“Door!” my mom called a few hours later.

I was the one to get there first, Kassia coming in right behind me. I prayed to God that it wasn’t Savannah—not yet. She had her own problems and she didn’t need to force them upon the rest of us. Thank God, it wasn’t Savannah. Instead, it was a tall-ish girl with medium-length, dark brown hair. She had huge brown eyes too.

“Hiya. I’m Chelsea Smith. Me and my parents live across the road. Right over there,” the girl said, pointing across the road to a yellow house, barely seeable in the distance. She seemed really bubbly and I wondered if she went to my school at all.

“Uh, I’m Katja and this is my sister Kassia. Sorry to be rude, but is there a certain reason you came here?” I asked, unsure of what to make of Chelsea. She seemed nice enough.

“Oh, I heard there were new neighbors and my mom told me to bring you cookies.”

“Thanks, we appreciate it.” Stupid country folk.

“Do we go to the same school?” she asked. “You’re a junior, right?”

“Yeah. Are you, like a freshman or something?” I asked, wanting to get this social visit over as quickly as possible.

“Sophomore,” she replied, her wavy dark brown hair going to her forearm. “Well I better get home before dark. See you around, Katja!” she called over her shoulder as she practically bounced down the steps. I hated bouncy people like that. Bubbly, bouncy, too much pep and not even enough to spare.

“Who was that?” my mother asked, eyeing the plate of cookies. It was true, she had packed on a couple (hundred) pounds since Phillip Morris was born.

“Neighbors,” Kassia replied, closing the door.

“Oh. How nice.”

“Yeah, Katja goes to the same school as her. I think her name was Chelsea Smith.” Kassia went to the kitchen while I started to head for my room.

“Oh! The Smiths! Yes, I met Mr. and Mrs. Smith on my way to work today. Nice people, definitely. Oh, and Katja?”

“What?”

“You’re still grounded.”

“UGH!” I scrambled to my room, slamming whatever the door was into the floor and hoping to just lay down and practically die. My life could not get any harder than this. SCREW YOU!

 

Thursday. I guess those days were okay. I mean, they weren’t the best, like Fridays, but they weren’t the worst like Mondays. Thursdays were like…the prelude to the weekend. I guess I kinda liked Thursdays.

“Katja!”

Oh my God. Leave me alone. Do I want to talk to my Mom? No. “What!?” I yelled, seriously irritated.

“Don’t get an attitude with me!” she yelled back.

“Whatever! What did you want!?”

“Get down here!” This time her tone wasn’t angry or anything.

I reached for my phone in my pocket—where it always was—but then I realized the witch had taken it. Wonderful. I walked down the stairs, trying to avoid the deadly door on my way out. I silently padded down the hallway in my Nick and Nora owl slippers. It was five—the time I had to get up for school.

“What?”

“We had to have new tires put on your car—it snowed last night. A lot.”

I looked out the kitchen window and sure enough there was a white blanket covering mostly everything. Back in Minnesota around this time, that was so normal. But I guessed it really wasn’t all that normal around here. It had snowed the day I had arrived here in Hell, but it was thin and kind of slushy. I guessed that this snow really wasn’t.

“Kitty!!!” Jesse ran down the stairs and assaulted me with a giant hug. I loved my little brothers—they weren’t annoying at all.

“Hey,” I laughed, pulling in Jones, too. We just stared out the window, a white moon covering the ground. I sighed, thinking there wasn’t another moment like this in life, when your twelve-year-old brothers’ arms were encompassing your small waist while the snow covered the ground gracefully outside and sank the trees with the water turned to ice.

Eventually, the boys went back to bed and I just stood there, drinking my black coffee, wondering what Chris was doing. Oh God. Did I just say that? What Chris was doing?! UGH! No I didn’t! You heard wrong! I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t!

“Hon, you don’t have school today but you will tomorrow. Snow Day. But I still have to work and so does your father,” she said, looking at me sideways.

I knew what that meant. Katja Daycare.

“Phillip Morris is in his room, and I left out everything for you. The boys should have some Spaghetti-o’s or something. I’ll be back later.”

“Bye,” I muttered, wanting her to leave. The boys were old enough to stay home by themselves and I wanted to explore the woods. Wait! No I didn’t! YUCK!

“Kassia isn’t feeling well, so keep an eye on her.”

I nodded, still looking outside.

“Be more respectful, okay?”

I just nodded, hoping for her to go away. I didn’t want to have a lecture at five thirty in the morning—it wasn’t natural. “Have a good day,” I murmured.

After about an hour, Kassia woke up with a headache. I gave her some aspirin and sent her back to bed. I just sat at the kitchen table, rethinking a lot of things. I logged onto Facebook and saw the worst status that Leah would ever post—Having the best time ever! Hanging out with Molly Greene! My head collapsed into my hands and I just sat there and cried. I should be starting over, I told my self. I’m in a new town and I don’t have to deal with either of them anymore. I deleted Leah off of my friends and sighed. New life.

“Hey Kitty, can we go outside, please?” Jones asked, tugging on my arm.

“Sure, but don’t go too far, okay?”

“Alright!” Both of the boys ran out the door and into the snow, throwing snowballs at each other and making snowmen. I watched them for awhile before checking on Phillip Morris who was up and bright-eyed in his crib.

“Kit!” he giggled.

I picked him up and bounced him for a minute before taking him in the kitchen and feeding him. He was so cute when he laughed and giggled. I couldn’t help but to laugh too, forgetting all about everything for a few brief seconds as I laughed alongside pure childhood and life.

Unfortunately, the doorbell rang. “Just a second!” I called, hoping to buy some time so I could put Phillip back in his crib. I kissed him on the forehead and went to get the door.

Chelsea Smith stood on my front porch, smiling and dressed in winter clothing so heavy I could only imagine her sweating beneath it. “Hey, Katja. No school today, right?” She smiled again, showing perfectly straight and white teeth (like mine).

I stood there, thinking how stupid a question that was, when I heard Kassia come up behind me.

“Hi, Chelsea.” Kassia rubbed her eyes and stood there in the doorway with me.

“Hey, Kassia. So, Katja, do you wanna hang out today?” She just came right out with it, as if it were no big deal to totally “hang” with a stranger. Wow.

I looked back, seeing through the kitchen windows that Jesse and Jones were having a snowball fight. I thought for a moment. Hang out with creepy, annoying neighbor or stay home and not get grounded for neglecting siblings. Such a hard decision.

“So, how bout it?” Chelsea asked.

I won’t be gone very long, I thought to myself. Plus, this is the perfect chance to start over; make new, better friends, even if they are a bit annoying. “Uh… Sure. Um. Kassie are you feeling okay?” I glanced at her—she seemed fine.

“Totally. I’ll look after Phillip Morris.”

I smiled at her. Maybe she wasn’t totally a brat all the time, but most of the time she was. “Thanks. Uh, I gotta get my coat and my boots on—could you hold on a second?” I dashed upstairs, eager to begin my new life righteously, and put on my winter coat, scarf, hat, and my favorite snow boots (finally put to good use).

“See you later, Kassia.”

“So, Katja, is that like, the coolest name ever or what?” She had such enthusiasm it kind of scared me, a little. Her pretty, wavy, shiny dark hair swayed in the wind. She was taller than me (like everyone else, as I mentioned earlier). We were walking down the road to the Ferne farm, but not actually stopping there. We turned at an old worn-out driveway, which I guessed was where Chelsea lived.

“Well…not the best…” C’mon, Katja! You can do way better than that! Tomorrow you are so going to go right up to Chris and tell him you adore him! My subconscious decided to speak for me today. And that was so not true. He was going to be a friend; nothing more. Who says your subconscious knows best? Because it lies…“It was my grandmother’s name.”

“Cool beans. Hey do you wanna grab a bite to eat? My mom made some stuff before she left for work.” She looked down at me, her brown eyes glittering with excitement.

I looked back down the road at the wooden house on the hill. “I…uh…” C’mon, Kat! You know you want to! Honestly, is there anyone else on your friends list currently? No? Well then here’s your opportunity! My subconscious was really gonna get a beating. If that were possible. “Sure.”

Chelsea’s mood seemed to brighten even more (though I didn’t think that was possible with Chelsea Smith). “Tight! Oh…Oh, I have to warn you,” she said, opening to the gate to her house.

Down the driveway, there was a fat kid (it’s my mind and I don’t care if I’m a little rough around the edges) and he didn’t look a thing like Chelsea. Where her skin was white, his was tan. He looked like an original Michael Jackson tan (he was a f*g, yes, I know). But the weird thing was…he had a blond afro. Yes, that’s right…a blond afro. With a little circle on the crown of his head that must’ve been his original color. Oh God.

“My brother, Jeb.” She groaned as he approached us.

“Who’s that,” he asked, looking me over and stopping in all the wrong places. I thought I might just barf.

“Her name is Katja,” Chelsea spat. “He’s adopted,” she whispered, only to me.

I looked at her in surprise. “Really?”

“Totally.”

“What’s a sweet thing like you doing hangin’ around with my sister?” Jeb moved closer to me, but Chelsea stood in his way.

Normally, I would have blushed. But it was Jeb Smith and I couldn’t help but to gag a little bit. I smiled weakly and a bit sarcastically. He was taller than me too, but not by much so I wondered how old he was.

“Shut up, f****t and go back to whatever you were doing.” It appeared to me that Chelsea did not particularly enjoy Jeb. I didn’t either. We walked passed him and into the yellow house she had pointed out last night. It was weird inside. Kind of a musky, forest scent with taxidermy animals everywhere. To be frank, it creeped me out.

Suddenly, when I saw the wonderful cookies that Chelsea had pulled out, I wasn’t hungry anymore. For some weird reason, my thoughts kept drifting back to the adorable Chris. No. No they didn’t.

“Cookie?” Chelsea offered, her mouth already full.

I stood there kind of awkwardly and looked away. “Nah.”

“But you just said—” she started to protest, but she stopped, glaring at a space right above my head and a little farther back. “Je—”

She didn’t even time to finish saying the name until I was scooped up and away by the most vile, ugly, grossest person I had ever laid eyes on. I didn’t want to have to kick my new friend’s brother, even if he was adopted, but that’s what it came to. Right where (hopefully) the sun did not shine.

Chelsea ran into the room to find Jeb on the floor and me, fuming, walking swiftly out the door. I was halfway down the driveway when she finally caught up with me.

            “Wait a second!” she demanded, out of breath.

I stopped walking and stood there for a few moments.“Listen, Chelsea, I should be getting back anyway.” I didn’t even try to conceal my apparent irritation with everyone. Was there someone out there that actually was good? Pure? Gah!

Chelsea stopped and looked down at her white snow shoes. “Sorry, I guess I’ll see you around.”

At first, when I turned away, I felt kind of bad. I mean, it wasn’t her fault that her brother tried to kidnap me and probably assault me. But this is just another point that proves my theory—being attached means getting hurt. That same theory can be applied to anything.

Even the handsome, charming, over-all seemingly great guy, Chris Kempt.