Second Life

Teenage-hood with first meetings

I can't express how hard it is to be a teenager again, and for the opposite gender is a whole different factor. An unknown if you prefer, something that I found it quite frankly pissed me off. Graduating from Tart Elementary was a minor relief that had been squashed pathetically when I noticed that I also had to go through the Middle and High School factions as well. That was when I officially hated the word tart, anything to do with it was burned and discarded to be long forgotten and was to decompose itself for the years to come. My mom, the very person that I keep this from, knew about my dislike, and promised me that we would move out of the house and into a different neighborhood, as soon as she got the a-OK sign from dad.

Speaking of dad, he sent a letter stating that he would be coming over from his work, with Rupert. I didn't know how to react to the news, since I haven't even known the men for even a second of my life. It was like a stranger coming over to freeload until the next time they leave. Mom was pretty happy though, and by the sound of it dad was pretty excited to see me, even though I am like what now? 16? That was a pretty long way from me in the newborn stage. But it was a chance to finally evaluate the man that had won mom's heart, and the older brother that was now in his mid-30s.

I had gone out to the backyard with my trusty soccer ball, in order to practice my passing. So far I had mastered how to dribble without looking down, and tricks on keeping the ball up without it going off to a random direction. My passing was satisfactory, and I needed to work on it. The Coach was pretty adamant for me to continue my soccer career, and has kept pushing me forward. Of course he has threatened that if I were to ever drop in my studies, I would be put off from the team. I didn't mind, not that it would happen, but I would appreciate a few days off of the soccer training he puts me through. But reality here knocks and chirps that I won't sever the magnetic pull from the ball, so of course, even on the days off of training, I keep kicking the damn ball... At this rate, I might develop a love-hate relationship with it.

My studies haven't changed much from boring, and I've kept it consistent with the normal way things should be. That meant that I declined any offer of going for contests to having advanced classes, the teachers were disappointed, but I didn't want to cross the line, so I let them deal with it. I had mastered the English language, and soon picked up French right after it, and am now thinking of taking up Spanish after I am done with it.

"Youroi, come inside, it's about to rain." I glanced at the sky then at my mom, who was pretty in her own way. Her shoulder-length muddy brown hair was clipped at the bangs, allowing her chestnut brown eyes to be seen clearly. She often wore a blouse and a long skirt that went just past the knees, with a half apron tied around her waist, and that was just the usual. Her skin was flawless, despite the fact that she was well over the age of 40, something that I found utterly suspicious.

I blinked when I felt the first drop of rain, and returned to looking at the now cloudy sky. So much for a day of practice... I sighed, ruffling up my hair, which had now grown out longer, slightly getting into my eyes, and headed inside. "Coming, what's for lunch?"

"It's smoked salmon with fried vegetables," My mom answered as she headed for the kitchen. "I added a few more spices this time, for the taste!"

"Sounds good," I nodded, my stomach grumbling in agreement. The fact that my mother loved to experiment with food was admirable, a feat that my feminine self praised highly. I had also picked up cooking, learning dishes from time to time and absorbed on what she had served me. Other times I would sitck my nose in a cook book, and look at how the international cuisines were cooked. That was a working progress, made for my free time.

We sat at the dinner table, eating the lunch my mom made, and for fact, it was rather delicious, when she spoke up. "I spoke with your dad this morning, Youroi,"

"What did he say?" I answered, poking at the fried vegatables with my chopsticks. My adventure in conquering the utensil was a memorable moment, that consisted of me becoming pissed at it one time, the pictures were proof of that.

"He said he had found a suitable neighborhood for us to live in, and that we will move out when he returns with your brother," She replied enthusiastically. "isn't that great?"

"The best news that I have heard since I was enrolled into Tart Middle, mom," I grinned at her sigh. Some things just never get old.

"I know that you hate the school you have been enrolled in, but do you hate that much?" She pressed.

I stuffed a piece of the fish into my mouth, savoring the flavor. She could tone down on the paprika... "It goes as far as the word tart, mom, I don't think I can go any farther than that."

"Still," Silence took over as we ate the rest of our meal, while I made mental notes of what else the dish could do with and without. A self-taught skill that I was rather proud of. Mom then spoke up again after a while, when we began washing the dishes. "Youroi,"

"Yes?" I answered, glancing at her before continuing to wash the dishes.

Her pause was concerning, but before it could get worrisome, she continued. "You will keep up your sport right?"

I turned to look at her, the small retort dying on my tongue by seeing her worried expression. I let out a sigh, and nodded. "Of course I will, I doubt that I would be able to cut off the connection of me kicking the ball around anyway."

"You're right, I can't imagine you without your soccer ball anymore." Her laugh was light hearted, and made me smile.

The small moment of peace that had enveloped us was shattered with the doorbell ringing. I dried my hands and went over. "I'll get it."

Opening the door, I found myself faced with two men of the same height. Quite tall, something that I had yet to reach with my shorter than average height. Both men looked down at me, one grinning as the other stared. And god forbid what I would have done to them if I hadn't seen them in pictures. I nodded to the grinning man, a person well in the age of 50, and then at other man. "It's good to see you two home for once, dad, big brother."

"Aw, is that any way to greet your father, Youroi? Come here!" Dad entered the house and encased me in a suffocating hug, that did not have the strength of a 50-something year old man. What did he do to get this sort of strength? Work out? Plausible...

"A-Air! C-Can't b-breathe!" I strangled out as I tried to free myself of the suffocating grip.

"Oh, sorry, sorry, I've just been gone from home for too long! I couldn't help myself!" He laughed as he pushed me at arms length, sizing me up. I was too busy in trying to bask in the oxygen I had been cut off of to notice my mom entering the lobby. Not until my dad caught sight of her. "Hime dear! I'm home~"

Mom gave a giggle and hugged the man that I now called dad, both of them headed to the kitchen, with mom fussing over with what he should eat. Leaving me with my older brother in the lobby. I glanced over him, and we stood there just looking at each other. I decided to break the awkward situation, when he broke it first. "You are puny,"

What?