Chapter 5

About an hour later, everyone finally showed up. The five vehicles pulling through the wrought iron gates in front of my house made quite a parade. First, Donny pulled in driving his old '92 Kia, then Tom pulled with Sarah sitting in next to him in their Nissan, then Greg in his '87 Bronco with John sitting beside him, then Jacob in his '95 Mazda, and finally Max in his mother's '09 Volkswagen Passat. They pulled up to the garage and all got out to begin arguing about who could park inside. With my BMW, my mum's Maserati, and my dad's Harley all in there, only two of them could park in the garage. I closed up the gates with a loud, metal clang and walked up to them.

"Jacob and Donny, you guys probably have the nicest cars. I say you two can park inside. If you want to give it up, that's fine. The rest of you, sorry," I said.

Max began arguing, "My mum's Volkswagen is the newest car, not including your family's. Shouldn't I park inside?"

I sighed, "Probably, but you're a dick. Follow me this way for room assignments, Sarah and gentlemen-" I stopped and stared. There was a girl climbing out of the back of Greg's Bronco. Greg offered the short woman a hand down, which she ignored and jumped out on her own.

She stretched a moment, then marched up to me and shook my hand. "I'm Leslie, and I hear you're Jason."

"Uh, yeah. Hi. Are you staying with these guys now?" I asked, still a bit shocked by her sudden appearance.

She nodded her head, her very short, nearly black hair whipping against her pale skin. "Only for a week, though. I live in Chicago. My plane only landed two hours ago. I thought Grand Rapids was supposed to have less crime than back home," she said.

I laughed awkwardly, "Not tonight, I guess." I paused, then addressed the whole group again as we began walking back toward the house, "Um, so who all is sharing? Remember, people, 10 bedroom house, and five of them are already claimed. Only one bed per room, but it's a big bed."

Sarah said, "As hard as this may be for you guys to believe, I'm willing to share a bedroom with Tom," and grabbed his hand.

Greg glanced at Leslie, then started to say, "I can share with any of the guys who are will-"

Leslie interrupted, "I'd be willing to room with Greg." Everyone's chatter fell silent just a moment, then continued.

I was a bit shocked at Greg, our group virgin, having a girl want to share a room with him, but tried not to dwell on it. "That's seven bedrooms filled, three left, and four people left. Any other volunteers? These are king beds, remember."

Max sullenly glanced at the group, then asked, "Can I have a couch instead of a bed?"

"Our couches aren't very comfortable," I warned him. "They're decorative and fancy here."

"I'm okay with that. I don't want to room with another guy," Max said, trying to sound tough and just coming across as obnoxious. "I should have just called one of the girls I know and stayed with them."

The entire group began agreeing with Max at once, and for once, he looked a little embarrassed. We had reached the parlor, as my mother insisted we call the living room, and I directed Max to the least comfortable couch. Then, I directed everyone to various bedrooms, with the three single guys getting the slightly less elaborate rooms, and offered to show Leslie the basics of the house.

Leslie smiled, "Oh, great idea. I'll probably get lost anyway, though. This place is huge!"

"Um, thanks," I mumbled. I pointed at a door a few feet away. "This is the closest bathroom, but there are three others you could use. The kitchen is right over there. Do you want to see the other bathrooms or anything?"

"No, I think I'll be fine, but can I meet your brothers and sisters? You have three, right?" she asked.

I stared at her a moment, confused, then said, "I'm an only child."

She blushed a little, "Sorry, you said five bedrooms were taken. I assumed one was your parents, one was you, and the other three were siblings."

"Ohh, no, no siblings. I have a kind of surrogate brother, but he's working. Zahara was already staying here, not wanting to see John, which will probably be fantastic, and Magdalena, the housekeeper, has a room. She stays here six days a week, then has Sundays off. That's it. Um, I don't really know where Magdalena is, and Zahara's still sleeping. Sorry."

"God, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed. Well, I should probably go back now," Leslie said, still looking embarrassed.

"Oh, yeah. Unpacking and stuff, right? Can you find it okay? I know this place is kind of confusing," I mumbled.

"Yeah, it's right there. Thanks," said Leslie, and walked away. As I stared after her very slender frame, I couldn't help feeling that she looked very familiar.

Shaking off the stupor of confusion, I decided I better finally let Zahara know that we weren't even close to alone anymore. I walked up to her door and pried it open the slightest amount to peek in and see if she was still sleeping. She was entirely wrapped up in the satin blankets, rather like a burrito. I couldn't tell if she was still sleeping or not, since she was lying on her side, facing the wall. I gently slid the door open, then closed it behind me.

"Zar?" I whispered.

"Unghh. Whah?" she mumbled.

I couldn't quite figure out what to say. "I, uh, have some very bad news."

"Whah?" Zahara mumbled again.

"You might want to be all the way awake first," I said.

She flipped enough over to look at me, and then she said, "Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not, but you'll kill me if I don't tell you now," I said.

She sighed, "What is it?"

I didn't know where to begin, so I just started at the beginning. "Someone broke into your apartment and tried to attack Sarah. She's okay, though. You know how Tom is, he beat the crap out of the guys before they could hurt her."

Zahara stared at me wide-eyed. "No s**t?" she said. "Well, at least everyone's okay. You made it sound like someone was dead!"

"That's, um, not all. The apartment was pretty trashed, and the place was still a crime scene, and the door is kind of completely gone."

"You're right, that's pretty bad. It gets worse, though, right?" Zahara said. I just nodded. "They all needed a place to crash, and they're all here, aren't they?" I nodded again. "You have got to be f*****g kidding me."

I winced, and said, "I'm really sorry, Zahara."
"It's not your fault," she said.

"I know, but, well, I still feel like a dick," I said.

She sighed, and said, "No big deal. What happened to Greg's new girlfriend? She was supposed to come visit today."

"You knew?