Chapter 2
Most summer days I love to dress in sweats and relax. But today was a different story-it was July’s birthday. That’s why her parents named her July because her birthday was in July! It’s crazy, yes, but her parents are a bit crazy.
I walk into my bright yellow kitchen spotting my mom making some apple pancakes. You can smell them through the whole flat. The light wooden counters were covered with something such as: bowls, utensils, ingredients, ect. My mom was very busy today.
The air was blowing into the house from the window and the black curtains were getting pulled by the air.
“Yum,” I say.
“Thank you sweetie,” my mom says. Today she’s wearing her favorite fruit covered apron which compliments her brown eyes and black hair. I’m small like her.
“Do you need help?” I sit down on the Victorian dining chair.
“No, it’s fine,”
My mom is the nicest person I know. She is a bit naïve but that doesn’t make her stupid. Mom is one of those kinds of people that get friends easily by just showing her smile and saying “hi,” I don’t think that she has even one evil bone in her body. She has a great sense of humor and loves all animals. My mom loves to decorate and cook. She’s always wanted to open some sort of store/café. She will get a chance to-I hope so. You can make my mom sad easily because she isn’t that strong mentally but I’m helping her out with that.
I put two pancakes on my plate and drown them in maple syrup.
They taste amazing! They always do-you can taste the apple and cinnamon strongly. The maple syrup makes them taste much sweeter.
“These are delicious mom!”
“That’s good,” she puts some on her plate and starts eating with me.
My dad is at work. He loves his job. It’s his dream job! He’s barely home though because his job makes him travel all over the world-from Germany to Britain and even more places. Of course he enjoys it but he does miss sitting at home with us. My dad is a very strong person-mentally and physically. He loves to hang out with us and his friends. He can get a little too carried away or even too aggressive though so that’s when we have to watch out. Dad has bad tempers so I try to not get him mad. I’m strong like him but mentally only.
***
I’m playing my guitar in my room (I just started learning)- my door opens and I see my older brother, Chris, with my puppy behind him, Sophie.
Chris is a shy guy. He had anxiety when he was younger. He didn’t talk to anyone at school from kindergarten to eighth grade. The only time he talked at school was to the teachers but no one else-not even me. He only talked to family. Chris broke out of it later and started to talk to kids. It’s nice that he did that. He is very naïve-even more naïve than my mom which isn’t so good- he doesn't understand some situations and gets into a nervous breakdown. He loves to hang out with his friends and family-but he does like having a lot of private time. My brother is passionate about planes, he wants to fly one when he grows up. He is tall like my uncle.
“Hey,” he says and sits on my white daybed.
My puppy Sophie is a Maltese. She has an attitude and loves show it. I think she’s just four years old. Sophie gets jealous easily so I try not to play with other dogs unless she knows them. She has many nicknames because she’s just so different than any other dog. My pup doesn’t eat a lot but she eats and that’s the good part. One day I noticed that she has the most amazing chocolate brown eyes I've ever seen.
“What’s up?” I ask setting down my guitar and look at him.
He has the same blond hair as me but he has green to gray eyes. Chris has acne also but I don’t. When we were kids people thought we were twins! It was crazy so we called each other fraternal twins-even though we really weren’t twins.
“Just came by, there’s a party at Josh’s house-you wanna come with June?”
Josh is Chris’s best friend since kindergarten. He has bleached blond hair and blue eyes. Any girl would fall for him but obviously me.
“June,” I question.
“Sorry-July,” he always makes fun of her name.
He gets up and picks up my miniature blue basketball and throws it into the hoop that is above my bed. It makes a whoosh sound when it falls in.
“Nice one,” I comment the basket.
“So are you coming?” he shoots again and makes it.
“Sure, I’ll just ask June,” I make fun of how he says June.
“Ha-ha,” he leaves my room and I call July.
***
