Magnetic

Chapter One

Every Christmas, I would only recognize about three-fourths of the people in my grandmother's house.

    Most of my family members that lived there in the town of West Cliff chose to bring guests to Christmas dinner, most of which were people who couldn't afford anything extravagant or didn't have family nearby to spend Christmas with. Usually they ended up being some of the most interesting people that I never would've met otherwise.

    Last Christmas, I met two women that Aunt Tesla brought with her. She had met them while working her shift at Wishing Wells, the tiny—but bustling—thrift shop a couple blocks down from Nana's house. They hadn't had much money and were ranting to each other about not being able to afford a quality Christmas dinner while paying for a couple dresses for some New Years day party. When Aunt Tesla had heard that, she immediately invited them to join us. That small gesture led to the two ladies becoming best friends with my aunt.

    Two Christmases ago, my cousin Britney brought a whole Muslim family of four over for dinner. Apparently, she hadn't told them it was Christmas dinner and was going to try to convert them without them being aware of it, so they just left almost immediately after entering. She was pretty upset that her "plan" failed and complained about it throughout the entire night.

    As I crossed through the front doorway, the smell of roasting turkey wafting in from the adjacent kitchen slapped me in the face. I glanced around the foyer, trying to place a name to each person's face. Per usual, there was a copious amount of people that were unrecognizable.

    By the entrance to the kitchen stood the two ladies from last Christmas—now noticeably less malnourished-looking than before—using wild hand gestures while chatting away with my aunt Tesla and her fiancé, Roger. In front of the fireplace was my cousin Gage, conversing with some guy I didn't recognize. He was a bit taller than my five-foot-nine cousin, and his blonde hair swooped perfectly over his tiny forehead.

    Uncle Byron was right beside me, putting in his two cents about the results of the election in a conversation with a lively elderly couple, and walking in through the doorway behind me was my cousin, Rosie. A man's arm was draped around her shoulders, and I assumed he was her new boyfriend. A few months ago, when I had emailed her to see how her junior year of college was going, she wrote a whole two paragraphs about her "Australian model boyfriend". She spilled all about him and the trips to exotic locations that he's taken her on. I was glad she was finally happy, mostly because earlier last year, she was engaged to this intelligent and dedicated physics student. He broke off the engagement after about five months, saying he needed to focus on his studies in order for himself to reach his full academic potential. But just a week later, after walking into the campus library, she caught him locking lips with a freshman psychology student.

    "Nicki!" she shrieked, enveloping me in a tight embrace. Even though you shouldn't choose favorites, Rosie was, without a doubt, one of my favorite cousins; she was never one to participate in family arguments or share her opinions very much—if any—making her extremely easy to get along with. The only somewhat-annoying thing about her was her pep; at first glance, it was blatantly apparent that she had been a cheerleader all throughout adolescence.

    I stepped back to analyze her new boyfriend. Although I wasn't sure if I completely convinced that he was a model or not, I did conclude that he was somewhat attractive in an extremely unique way—kind of like Rosie, who wasn't a standard "model" type beauty, but was gorgeous enough to make you do a double take if you just normally passed her on the street or in the grocery store.

    Rosie and her boyfriend had the same raven locks and tan skin, which made them somewhat look like brother and sister. Enter Gage, Rosie's little brother, and they'd all definitely be mistaken as siblings.