Young Writers Society

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Chapter Four

What Rules?

He opened his mouth about to say something but the doorbell rang. It rang all throughout the house. “That’s probably the movers. They moved one thing and took a break.” He started out of the library and down the hall, so I curiously followed him.

He opened the door and to a woman standing there holding a cake. She was tall and blonde and her smile was huge. It must have touched her ears. Not to mention how white her teeth were. I rocked back on my heels. Why was her smile so impressive to me?

“Hi. I’m Sabrina Avery. I live down the street,” she said thumbing behind her.

I could tell my father noticed her beauty because he seemed nervous. He held out his hand to her and she fumbled with the cake to hold it with one hand. It was tipping over, and I wanted to see if she would let it fall. “I’m Travis Caine.” She jerked her hand back to catch the cake right before it toppled over. Darn.

“I’m Genevieve,” I said with a wave. I didn’t want another close call with that cake, which was looking tasty right about now.

When I said my name, a gust of wind tousled my hair as if it were playing with it.

“Yes, Genevieve, I’ve heard that you were coming. I’m going to be your teacher.”

My dad opened the door wider. “Would you like to come in?” he asked. She nodded and walked through the door. “Let me take that,” He said, holding out his hands for the cake. She gave it to him and walked down the hall to what I think is the kitchen.

Awkward moment. I rocked back on my heels again and asked, “What subject do you teach?”

“All of them. We don’t have enough teachers, or students for that matter, to change classes every period.”

“Just like elementary school.” I didn’t say it as a question and she knew that I was looking down on her school.

She forced a smile, “You have been put in an honors class. I teach the same subjects at the same level as your old school. Trust me, you will like Hazelton High.” Her smile faded when I wasn’t buying it. “There is no reason for our friendship to be unpleasant, Genevieve.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry about that,” I said in a fake voice, “You have to be patient with me. At my old school, my teacher didn’t even know my name, never the less be my friend.”

She put her hand to her chest and widened her eyes. “That must have been terrible for you.”

I nodded, “I guess I’ll see you on Monday. I have a lot of unpacking to do.”

My father came back down the hall. What took him so long? “Sorry about that, Ms. Avery. I couldn’t find anything else to put the cake on. Do you mind if we borrow your plate?”

Her real smile was back and flirting with my father. “Keep it for as long as you want.”

I felt that this conversation was no longer in need of my presence, so I decided to go explore more of Beaufort. I found that beyond the library and mystery door number one, the hall ended in the dinning room. The dinning room seemed to be in between two other rooms. The light was pouring through the door on the right, but little light came from the door on the left.

I thought that I’d figure out what right door was, so I could avoid it at all times. Who needs the extra color? There seemed to be more glass windows with that strange colored pattern in them as the outer walls of this room. In the middle of the floor was a white wicker furniture set that included a love seat, a single seat, and a coffee table. There were a couple of plants on small tables scattered among the room. It must be some sort of green room.

I went into the room on the left. The door was one of those swinging doors—that is an accident waiting to happen—and turned around and went out. It was a kitchen and there were three guys just sitting around the counter. They were all wearing t-shirts with huge sweat stains that wringed around their necks and arm pits. They seemed young; I didn’t want them to see me like this. They were probably those lazy movers my father had mentioned.

Next, I went up the stairs. It was very open, like the hall downstairs. Right across the hall from the stairs was a bedroom with antique furniture in it. On a night stand, there was a picture frame with a boy in it. He seemed familiar, very attractive, but I couldn’t place a name. It must have been Great Aunt Sue’s room. So I left as fast as I could. Would we move her things? There is just something unethical about it.

A small hall led to a bathroom that looked accessible from both bedrooms. Some of our boxes were in here, and I could tell by how they are marked that my father picked this to be his bedroom. I went to the next bedroom that was at the end of the hall. Bailey was sitting on the floor surrounded by a bunch of boxes. He was playing with a dinosaur and a monster truck. When we were younger we played with them. I was the dinosaur sent from the past to destroy the universe. His monster truck saved the day.

He looked up at me and smiled. “Remember these?” he asked holding the toys up.

I walked over to where he sat and picked up the dinosaur. It had encountered many defeats in its day, and you could see the damage in its half gnawed off face and missing tail. The truck wasn’t so sore; it only had some chipped paint. I laughed out loud and another gust of wind came flying through the door. I turned to look at the window, but the faded maroon curtains at the far end of the hall didn’t seem to have moved.

“Have you noticed that this house is freaking cold?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Old houses are like that. I haven’t noticed any creaking floor boards, so I think we’re good.” He laughed. I smiled and put the dinosaur back down. “Dad says your room is upstairs.”

Another floor? “I see.” Of course, he would forsaken me to a different floor.

I walked out of his room and towards the next room. It was another library with walls and walls of books. A modern table looked out of place with books stacked on it in the middle of the floor. I tried to walk into the room, but there was an invisible shield blocking my path. I tried again but an electric shock went through my body knocking me on my ass.

“We aren’t aloud in that room or the locked one down stairs,” Bailey called from the door of his room. “It’s one of the rules.”

I got up and walked to the door, but didn’t try to enter. How is it even possible? “Has dad been up here?” I asked.

“Yeah, he did the same thing as you. I told him that it was one of the rules, but he won’t listen.”

I looked at Bailey. “What rules?”

“The rules that we have been given to live here. We don’t own this place, it’s not ours. He is letting us live here because he needs the company.” He walked into his room and shut the door.

I tilted my head to the side like a confused puppy. “He is just trying to scare me.” I said under my breath. If there really was a person that didn’t want us going in these rooms, why wasn’t this one locked? Maybe I was just imagined getting electrocuted.

My bedroom was huge! I had my own bathroom, living room area, a walk in closet the size of my bedroom at my old house, and a canopy bed. There was an old vanity in the room that was left and I wanted to keep along with my desk. I have a couch and TV in the middle of the room and I have another antique couch and sitting chair in between the closet and bathroom. Now I know why my father wanted me up here. It was like my own apartment.