Battle Of The Bands

[01] Hey there Delilah

Hey there Delilah,

What's it like in New York City?

I'm a thousand miles away but girl,

Tonight you look so pretty.

Yes you do.

Time Square can't shine as bright as you.

I swear it's true.

~Hey there Delilah, Plain White T's

"Can I have another one?"

I snorted, "Not in a million years. You're already risking death by sugar."

My six year old brother pouted, "But that would be epic!"

I shook my head, "Seeing you burst into a little specks of white powder is not my idea of epic, little man."

His eyes widened, "Will there really be a gazillion specks, Pipey?"

I nodded.

He looked at me in awe, "A gazillion is more than this." He stated, holding up ten fingers.

I laughed, "A lot more." 

"Let's try!" He decided, reaching for another chocolate covered oreo.

I swiped the bowl away, "Not on my watch, kiddo." 

He folded his hands and pouted, "You're mean."

I picked up an oreo and bit into it, "Uh huh." I said with my mouth full.

"You're talking with your  mouth full," His eyes widened, "I'm telling mommy!"

He jumped off the bed and ran out the door screaming, "MUMMY!" 

I rolled my eyes, trust him to be scandalized after seeing the cookie mush in my mouth. 

Oh well, I thought, at least I don't have to entertain him anymore.

Immediately, I was bored.

I groaned and collapsed onto my bed. Today was exceptionally dreary in London, the impending storm made it impossible to go out of the house. I would have probably been hanging out with my best friend Nate, but he was off catering to his girlfriend's every whim and fancy. My other best friend Macy was at home sick with the flu.

I sighed.

It was a sad life.

It was one of those days when you can think of so many things you could do, but you don't end up doing anything because you don't feel like it.

With a rather wicked grin on his face, my brother came back into my room.

"Mommy wants to see you." He told me.

I groaned and turned in my bed, "Tell her I'm too lazy." I muttered.

"But dinner's ready!"

"Hmm." 

There was a silence, so I guessed he had left the room. I went back to pondering over my unfortunate life.

Then suddenly it was like the weight of six hippos were on my shoulder. 

I wheezed, "Gerroff!" I wiggled and jiggled, "Seriously people, get of my back!" I yelled, and finally they got off one by one. 

I sighed in relief, and moved my back around a little to make sure it wasn't broken. 

"This isn't funny," I glared at my family. They seemed to be having way too much fun. "Do you even know how much you weigh?"

Chandler raised his hand frantically as though he was in class, "I weigh fifty five pounds." He recited.

I rolled my eyes as my parents burst into fits of giggles.

"You're very heavy." I informed my brother.

He brightened up, "Good," he told me, "Travis said that means I have muscles." 

I snorted, "Travis said that, did he?" 

Travis was my thirteen year old sister Meghan's boyfriend. When dad found out about him, he almost called animal control on him, before mum was able to stop him. I was honestly surprised that he was still here. Dad had made it very clear that he wasn't wanted around the house, and he went out of the way to make him feel out of place.

But I could see that Travis was a nice bloke and that he genuinely liked my sister, which I found unbelievable. My sister was an annoying clown faced nag. 

"Anywho," My mum said while getting off the bed and dusting herself off, "Supper's ready. Dad got fish and chips."

I rolled my eyes, "Fish and Chips again? Way to make us look like a generic Brit family, dad."

Dad shook his head at me, "I thought you liked fish and chips kiddo?" 

"Of course I like fish and chips." I stated, "Who doesn't like fish and chips?" 

He looked confused as he got up and followed Mum out the door muttering, "Kids these days..."

"Daddy piggy back!" Chandler squealed, before running after my dad.

I followed, shaking my head at the bunch of them.

I stopped outside Meghan's room and yelled, "Dinner!" and got no reply, so I shrugged and kept walking.

Just as I was about to sit down, there was the familiar rattling sound of the postman leaving mail.

Mum looked stunned, "What could it be at this hour?"

She immediately looked at me. "Well don't just stand there grumping, go get it."

"Grumping isn't a word." I deadpan as I get up.

"Well it should be," My dear mother informs me, "It describes how  you spend every second of your life."

I sigh as I drag my feet to the front door. At the same time I can't help but wonder what really had been delivered at 7 o'clock in the night. No postman in his right mind would deliver bills at this ungodly time, unless they wanted to be chased out of the neighborhood by an angry mob.

What can I say? Us Brits enjoy our peaceful evenings.

I walked up to the doormat and picked up a fancy, rather heavy envelope, like one you would use for a wedding. For half a minute I thought that old Mrs. Watson across the street finally forgave us for letting our cocker spaniel loose over her peonies and invited us for her daughter's wedding.

But then I definitely diminished the thought, the old bat had gone far too rusty to mend her ways now. 

I turned the envelope around and probably had a shock of a life time.

It was addressed to me. 

It actually said Ms Piper Cunningham in fancy script.

To be honest, it was a total Harry Potter moment.

Geeky moment aside, I realized that the only letters that were ever addressed to me were my progress reports, and this was too posh for my school.

I flipped it over and the bloody thing even had a posh looking red seal with a bird on it.

Well, there was only one thing to do now, I thought.

I dug my nail into the seal and pulled out the letter.