Getting up the next morning brought no hesitation. My father was so eager to find out how to break the "curse", as he put it, that he had breakfast going at six in the morning. My teenage body wanted to throw a brick at him for daring to bother me this early as he hollered loudly that breakfast was ready.
"Rise and shine, sleepyheads!" he sang loudly from the kitchen. The sound of the grill and the smell of the food was very strong. My eyes popped open and darted to the clock, which read 6:18AM. Was he trying to get himself killed?
"Brent," Barry whined. I watched him through the doorway to the bedroom as he sat up and scratched his dark hair, stretching. "Come on, man."
"It's freaking six in the morning, Dad," I pitched in with the complaints. "This is unfair!"
"For once I agree with Alleah," Phil said sleepily. I couldn't help but smile a little at his comment. What a stinkpot.
"You three are the most pathetic bunch of complainers I have ever heard in my life," my father chuckled loudly and I threw my pillow over my head. He seriously needed to stop pushing my buttons.
"Dad, it's Saturday for the love of Pete!" I shot back.
"But Alleah, aren't you excited to find out how to save your brother?" he hollered with a mouthful of food. He had something in there at least.
"Dad, my level of enthusiasm would be much higher if you had let me sleep in until eight o'clock," I grumbled. "Right now I've got nothing."
There was a long pause.
"Phil?" my father called. "Will you do me a favor?"
"I don't know, Brent. It depends on what it is."
"I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy yourself with it," my father taunted. I had a bad feeling about this, so I got up and went out of the bedroom drowsily, heading for the kitchen.
"Don't even bother, Dad," I glared, picking up a plate to load it with some eggs. "I'm fine."
"Never mind, Phil."
"Dang it," Phil made a face before plopping back down on the couch. He looked just about as dead as I felt, though I was grateful I still felt energy from yesterday's nap.
I finished my breakfast quickly, feeling my enthusiasm return as my mind began to wake up after such an abrupt morning. My father was right, I really was anxious to find out how to stop Zemlicka and get my brother back. I hardly used my powers anyway; I could care less if they were gone or not even though they were pretty cool.
"Done yet?" my father asked me as I finished placing my bowl in the sink to be washed later.
"Yeah, I'm ready," I nodded, sending him a warm smile as I pulled up the straps on my tank top. It had to be more then eighty degrees in here. I was dying of heat.
"We have three laptops so how do we want to work this?" Barry inquired of my father, who seemed to be lost in the same thought. Personally I didn't need a computer. I could easily share with my father, but it was up to them.
"Someone could always be a scribe," Phil suggested from his place on the couch where he was fully engaged in snarfing down a bowl of fruity pebbles. Some men just never fully grew up from their childhood.
"Hey, that's not a bad idea!" Barry lightened up. "I nominate the person with the best handwriting!"
Everyone in the same second turned and looked at me, making me crack a smile. Of course they would choose me. I was the girl.
"Wow, I don't think your nomination could have been more obvious," I joked, raising my hands in the air as if to surrender. "I guess I'm the scribe now."
YOU ARE READING
I'm a...Twin?!
Teen Fiction"I stared at my father with the most blank expression imaginable, my jaw hanging open. Either he was full of blasphemy, or the words that had just been spoken were a joke. There's no way I could be a twin." Alleah and Andrew Smith were born healthy...
