"Carmela, could you please clean up a bit? Nita's coming over and it would be positively wonderful to be able to walk on the floor." Kit says. Not 'Good morning, Carmela!' or 'How are you, sister dearest?' or even 'What a wonderful morning, 'Mela.' Not, I get stuck with Kit's first complaint of the morning. The dirty floor.
Now, I could say something nice to him. I already had a nice greeting on the tip of my tongue. But, at his lack of kindness and knowledge of a proper morning welcome, I decide to save it for another day.
"Why? You've never cared before." is all I reply, not taking my eyes off of the TV screen, which if full of The Speech, scrolling up and down with the things people have said to me. (Well, possibly not people…)
"I have cared, but then, we could actually see the floor, so it wasn't as big of a deal."
"Can't you just use your magic powers to float over it or something? Abracadabra?" I inquire with a rhetorical question. Kit though, can never be asked a rhetorical question, because he knows the answer to all of them. It may come with the whole wizard package.
"That would be wasting energy, which would speed up entropy and kill the universe." he replies. I smack a palm to my forehead.
"No! That was not to you! It was to my little brother!" I quickly say to the TV, which has one scrolling bar going mad with alien language that I have never heard, but would not care to find out what the insults meant. Apparently, I have just done the equivalent of flipping someone the finger with my hand-to-forehead smacking.
"'Mela, you could find a lost continent, fossils, or maybe even oil down in that pile of trash next to you!" Kit says.
"Well, we'll never know, because I'm not going to clean it up." I state bluntly. "If you want the house clean, you can do it yourself." I hate cleaning with a passion. My parents could never get me to clean my room when I was younger, and Kit won't now.
"Ahhhrrgg!" I can tell that Kit is making a face. He always does that when he's mad. And then, he stomps off into another room to steam.
"I'm going to get breakfast." he announces, and I hear footsteps to another room, probably the kitchen.
"Besides, it's not all my fault! That tangle of game controllers? Those crumpled up balls of spells you were working on? And that bowl of ice cream remains with the spoon? Which, I might add, will not remove itself from the bowl it's so old. All of that? It's yours!" I call to him. I hear a distant-sounding smack, which I assume is the sound of his hand hitting his face. I smile to myself and turn back to the TV, where I am having much more fun talking to the aliens on here. Seriously, half of them know more about fashion than the people on Earth here, and Kit could take a few pointers from some Naelau any day!
"Carmela, stop harassing your brother and come eat some breakfast!" Mama says to me. I sigh and tell six of the scrolling speech columns that I'm going to eat breakfast, and the other two that I have to leave for a bit. If I told them I was going to eat, they would come to my planet and tear my head off for not getting my nutrients from the elements like I should be doing.
"Pancakes? Hooray!" I bound into the room, my slippers, worn flat from years of overuse slapping loudly on the linoleum floor.
"Carmela, you really should help your brother clean up." Popi says. "What's wrong with helping your younger brother?"
"The whole 'cleaning' part. Seriously, you all know how much I loathe it." I inform them, cutting into my pancake. "Besides, why does Nita have to come here? It's not like I don't like her. But she has a house too, ya know."
"Dairine and Roshaun are working on something, and I don't want to be around there when they start flirting." Kit tells me. Mama and Popi seem fine with this concept. I gag and choke to death a little on my piece of pancake and almost ingest my fork in the process.
"It's nice that Dairine has found a guy." Mama says calmly. Popi nods and flips a page in his newspaper.
"Roshaun and Dairine? Flirting? I'm sorry, but that just isn't possible!" I wheeze out. Kit smiles wryly.
"It is. They start out all normal, and then something goes wrong, and they begin arguing. And they get louder and louder until someone's ears start to bleed. They aren't even paying attention to what's going on around them. And personally, I like to keep my ears blood-free." Kit says. I am still trying to wrap my brain around this concept that Dairine and Roshaun flirt. As in F-L-I-R-T.
"Are you sure it's flirting?" I ask cautiously. Kit gives me another look.
"Dairine has began learning a new special; Solar Dynamics, along with her computers and technology. If Roshaun is becoming that influential, I would say it's flirting. Would you like to go over there and see for yourself when I bring Nita home?" he asks. I nod without hesitation.
"But really, why can't you just clean the house yourself? Can't you just put it all into that little black hole-type thing you carry around with you? It would be so much easier, and space-efficient too." I suggest, then stop at the look on Kit's face. He sighs heavily, suggesting that I have the mind of a three-year-old and that he's going to have to give me the talk about Entropy and wasting the Energy.
For his information, it's four and a half, not three. I took a quiz in Cosmo.
I also take pride in the small pun I made. Black hole thing, and space-efficient.
I should do stand-up comedy.
"Alright, fine, I'll do it." I tell him, pointing my fork, laiden with a piece of pancake, dripping syrup, at him. "But I'm not going to like it. And, neither will you." I mention as an afterthought. I watch his face go from smug to fearful in seconds after I said those four fateful words. Personally, I can't say that I blame him. Anybody who's sister is like me would probably just about pee their pants if they heard that too.
"I don't want to have to go to the hospital this time. You kids keep it minuscule." Mama says. I look over at her with my adorable, innocent face that nobody can say no to. Except Kit, but he has no soul that I know of so far.
"Mama, everything will be under control, I assure you." I tell her. Popi snorts behind the paper in what can only be a muffled laugh. Kit laughs at this, and I pretend not to hear it.
"In fact, we'll start right now, won't we, Brother Dearest?" I smile over at Kit, who looks forlornly at his plate and lake of syrup.
"But I wanted another pancake…" he whines as I drag him out of the room.
"Come on, 'Mela! Why do you have to be like this all the time?" Kit asks while I plop him down on the couch and point to the mess. I don't answer this, because he would probably do something horrible to me if I told him.
That, or pee his pants. At this point, either is a fair option.
"Clean." I state bluntly, pointing my finger to the corner beholding the bookshelf. Kit looks over at it, then back at me.
"The bookshelf says that it isn't nice to point." he informs me. I roll my eyes.
"Just clean it." I say, then begin work on my own little corner in front of the TV, where I sift through days' worth of paper plates, crumpled papers, and a broken pencil and sock or two. Sadly, there are no fossils or oil. I could have made a fortune out of those.
"So you never said what you and your girlfriend were going to be working on." I peek over my shoulder at the back of my baby brother. He has gone rigid, and his shoulders are stiff.
"Girl friend, not girlfriend." he seethes. I smirk and lean against the TV set.
"Girlfriend, girl friend, whatever." I say. He whips around to glare at me, and I see that his face has turned bright red.
"Awww, is little Kitty blushing?" I coo, using the nickname he hates so very dearly. He manages to make his scowl deepen to a glare.
A death glare from Kit Rodriguez. I should really record this Kodak Moment in my diary.
"Would you just get back to cleaning?" he growls. I smile that all-knowing smile at him.
"Sure, baby brother." I say, then turn back to my cleaning. For some reason, the work doesn't seem so much as a chore today.
"We're fixing one of the moons on Jupiter. Some of the life forms are having trouble with the atmosphere." Kit says quietly, to answer my question from earlier.
"Ah. So are you two going to be working in your room for privacy or out here so we can monitor you and intervene if things get to serious?" I ask. Kit lets out a cry, similar to Charlie Brown's 'AAAAHHHHUUUGHH!!!,' throws his hands in the air, and stomps up the stairs to his room, muttering angrily to himself.
"Carmela, I thought you said that everything would be fine." Mama calls from the kitchen. I come striding in and sit down at my place at the table.
"It is, I assure you." I say, plopping another pancake down on my plate. Mama and Popi both raise an eyebrow at me, but I continue eating and pretend not to notice.
Just then, our TV starts to beep incessantly. The three of us look up from our breakfast and look at the doorway to the living room, none caring to waste the energy to get up and check on what is happening to our beloved TV.
"I'M NOT GOING TO FIX IT!" Kit hollers down before any of us has a change to yell his name. Of course, my parents' next reliable source is me. I groan and stand up from the table.
"Fine, fine." I say to them before they can ask. This is simply because I will be more inclined to say no if they do ask, which could result in a grounding or a guilt trip, neither of which I am fond of.
I walk into the room, and the first thing I notice is that the TV appears to be fine, all but for the flashing red screen that says URGENT! URGENT! flashing across it. I wander over and press the menu button on the set to open the message.
'Tell Kit that I'll be transisting into his room in about thirty seconds' it says. It has no name, but the sent address says that it's from Ireland, Earth.
"Kit!" I yell up the stairs. "There's a kid-" I don't have a chance to get the rest out.
"YAAAHHHH!!!!!" is what I hear from the room up the stairs and to the right, soon followed by a "Geez, loud much? I would prefer to keep my hearing, thanks." in an Irish accent, much like a voice I remember from a little bit ago.
"Well, maybe I wouldn't have yelled so loud if you hadn't transited right onto my lap!" Kit yells. There is some scuffling, and then-
"CARMELA!" Kit screams. I turn and run into my room, locking the door and placing a chair in front of it for good measure.
Today is not Kit's best day ever, and I certainly don't want to be around when he blows up at someone. Especially when that someone is most likely going to be me.
A/N: Muffin Lady 0o
Leave it to us to make the least-used pairing we can find for YW.
Okay, so here's where I might explain. Each of my buddies and myself made an account so we could each write a chapter in a story like this. They voted on me to start (Why me, I have no idea) so I did. None of us are discussing plot plans, so we each post a chapter in the way we want it to keep going. So the plot with twist and turn every which way without our knowing consent.
I hope it turns out wonderfully!