Surviving the Andersen Brothers

Charlotte Mathias

I watched the students file into science, waiting for Jacob to make an appearance. Today was a lab day and the second youngest Andersen was my lab partner. I watched as my classmates took their seats, pairing up and setting up supplies.

            The final bell rang with the last of the arriving students shoving through the door to get to their seats before the ringing died. None of those frantic classmates were my partner. Jacob wasn’t here. Was he ditching?

            “Jasmine,” the teacher called. “Where is your partner?”

            “Uhm… not here,” I replied.

            “You live with him,” he pointed out. “Where is he?”

            To be honest, I didn’t pay all that much attention to Jacob when I was at home. He was never around. I knew very little about him. I did know that he wasn’t doing so well in school and that he has French second period—a class he was in earlier today—and science fourth period—a class he was currently absent from.

            “I don’t know where he is,” I admitted, wishing the teacher would stop putting me on the spot.

            “Charlotte, where is your partner?” the instructor asked another girl.

            I turned to see Charlotte, the only other person in class without a partner; she had blonde hair and tanned skin with hazel eyes. She seemed utterly bored.

            “How should I know?” she asked. “She’s not here, that’s all I know.”

            “Charlotte, sit with Jasmine, you guys are lab partners for this week.”

            Charlotte sighed and threw her bag on our table while I walked off to get our supplies.

            “I’m Jasmine Clark,” I introduced after setting everything down.

            “Charlotte Jane Mathias.”

* * *

Charlotte stood in the front door of the Andersen Estate, her jaw nearly hitting the floor. As it turns out, Charlotte and I had a lot in common—she was even on the Track and Field team.

            “Come on in,” I told her. She complied.

            “You actually live here?” she asked. “This place is like a dream.”

            Zach came running down the stairs to welcome me home—he made a habit of doing this when he got home before I did. “Welcome home, Jasmi—” He stopped halfway down the stairs and mid sentence when he noticed I was not alone. The smile vanished from his face and the emotion drained from his eyes. He watched Charlotte. “Welcome to our home, Miss Charlotte.” There was no warmth in his voice. He wasn’t welcoming her; the words were just something to say.

            She did not seem to notice his cold attitude. Charlotte smiled a fake smile and said thank you.

            I wondered why Zach was acting so rude. It was completely unlike him.

            “My room is this way,” I told Charlotte, grabbing her hand to lead the way. She and I had become friends fast.

            We went up the spiral staircase and through the hole in the floor to my room. Charlotte’s jaw dropped again. Maybe this was all a bit too much for her to take in.