Mikey's point of view

I hated house hunting. I swear it is the longest process ever. We had been looking for a new house for over a year now and had gotten nowhere. My parents had made a few offers on houses, but they never came through. We had literally looked all over the state for one, with no luck.

That is, until my parents found this place. I was with them the first time they ever looked at it. We went to the open house on our way to a family party because y parents said that there would be no problem looking, since that is what we had been doing for months anyway.

It was the middle of July, when we turned down a block that had a canopy of trees covering the street. The roof of green added a look of old time beauty to a street that could have easily blended in with the others. My father pulled the car over in front of a one story brick house. The ones on either side of it, looked slightly similar, but this one had a charm to it that stuck out immediately.

"Going with?" My mother asked me this question every time we went to an open house and by now, she always got the same answer.

"Nope," I said as I leaned forward to turn up the radio. If they were going to run around a strange house, then at least I was going to enjoy myself sitting in the car. I leaned back and put my feet up on the arm rests in front of me.

I watched as my parents walked up the front door and my father tried to get in. The door was still locked, so they walked down the front walk way. They milled around the front and waited for the realtor to come. By now though, there were other couples standing around and waiting for a peek inside.

My parents though, being adventurous people, walked around the house and looked through every open window. I could see them as I bobbed my head to the music, standing on their tip toes looking into the higher ones. They both then walked back to the car smiling, feeling very pleased with themselves.

"Have fun feeling like a spy?"

"Yes," my father answered me as he pulled out of the parking space.

"Where to now?"

"Going to make an offer," my mother said as she turned to face me in her seat.

"What? You didn't even see the place; you only peeked in some windows. That can't be enough to decide to want to buy it."

"Well, it was. We both love it and want it."

"Okay?" I said scooting back in my seat and putting my head against the warm glass. My father didn't believe in air conditioning, he liked the heat. So in the car, he would never put the air on, only roll down the windows.

We pulled right in front of the realtor's office, which held a big bright white and blue sign in the window. My parents both got out of the car and once my father got to the same side of the street as my mother, grabbed hands. They didn't even bother asking if I wanted to come in this time.

So there I sat, in the car, just like before minus the music. Dad actually decided to turn the car off and leave the windows down, so that I could breath. If only I was younger, than he could get in trouble for endangering a child. I'm not though, I'm almost seventeen and I don't want him to get in trouble. Just maybe then, he would learn that dragging me along on these trips were really boring.

They wouldn't actually be so bad, if I had my brother here with me. He didn't come on these trips though because he wasn't going to be staying at the house anyway. Gerard was busy setting up for college, which he was starting next month. He had gotten a dorm room and was then excused from joining the rest of the family. I hated him for that excuse. I wanted to stay home, but no, I had to be there to give my opinion. Though by the way they just went to make an offer without asking me, I can see it really doesn't matter.

I seemed to wait for hours for my parents to come back out of that office. The whole time I waited, I had my faced pressed into the glass, staring at the ice cream shop across the street. If I only had money, I could just go and fill my sweet tooth. Of course though I didn't have any money like usual and would have to wait for them to come out and save me.

When they did come out, they had smiles spread across their faces and were again holding hands. They both got back in the car and my dad turned on the car. As we drove away, I watched the shop slip out of my view and start to mix in with the rest of the street. Any hope of getting ice cream was now gone and I would have to wait till I got to my aunts house.

"Are we almost there?"

"Mikey. You know how long it takes to get there, why would you ask that?"

"'Cause I'm going to die of thirst!" I made sure to sound extra traumatized to catch my parents attention. "I just can't wait that long."

"Stop complaining," my father said.

"Fine. But we could've gone to the ice cream store back there and save this whole thing."

"If you wanted ice cream, why didn't you ask when we were back there," he stated coolly with a smirk on his face.

"Well fine. Make it all my fault then," I said as I slid back in my seat and tried to think of a different excuse.

When we got to my aunt's house, the entire family was already there. Both my parents recounted our tale of how they just put an offer on a really cute house, except my father didn't say the word cute. They also made sure to hand me anything liquid, excluding the alcohol, to cure my dehydration that I had complained of in the car. Luckily, Gerard had met us there with his car and I was able to complain to him about mom and dad.

Flash forward to today.

About three weeks later, all the dealing was done and my parents became homeowners. We were moving into our new house today and everyone was helping. In the three weeks in between moving in, we had been able to get into the house and see what it really looked like. It wasn't that bad.

It had three bedrooms, one just incase Gerard wanted to come home. Two of the rooms, were on the opposite side of the house by the kitchen, and separated from the other room by the living room. There was only one bathroom and the basement wasn't finished. One of the reasons that it took so long to move in, was that my dad had hired people to come in and change the house around.

First, they took all the carpeting out of the house, except for mine and Gerard's rooms because we liked the cushiness and had never had carpeting before. Next they completely redid the basement. The fixed it up, so that it not longer was exposed brick and concrete. We now had real walls and a carpeted floor. They also added a bar, a laundry room and a new bathroom. The bathroom is the best part though, because it is huge. It has a Jacuzzi bathtub and one of the party showers that can hold five people. Why we needed that big of a shower, I don't know, but I'm sure I'm going to like all the movable room.

Moving all the boxes into the house was the easiest part of the day. When we had packed, we labeled all the boxes with where they should be put in the house. With my dad's big family helping us move, we had all the boxes in the house and ready to unpack.

All my younger cousins wanted to help me unpack my room. I was the second oldest cousin, with about ten kids younger than me. They all yelled at me and started ripping open boxes, just trying to do some good. In reality though, I didn't want their dirty little hands going all over my stuff and ruining it. Knowing them, they would steal something, play with it, break it and then return it saying it came that way.

"Mom!" I yelled for my mother, who I am sure was on the other side of the house, when the kids wouldn't listen. "They keep touching my stuff and won't listen."

This made them scatter. None of them wanted to get caught not listening and then have to sit through a lecture. They quickly ran out of the room and probably headed into Gerard's to see if they could get anything out of him. They most likely will because he has more patience for their young nosiness.

"What's the problem?" My father poked his head into my room with towels in his hand.

"Nothing anymore. I think the moved on," I said placing a pile of books on one of my new shelves.

"Okay," he said as he walked into the bathroom and put down the towels. "I think I saw a kid outside when we pulled up with the truck earlier. He looks about your age. Why don't you go say hi? He only lives across the street."

"Dad, come on. That is so embarrassing. Anyway, we're the new people, aren't they supposed to come to us?"

"Michael, I think you need a break from packing anyway. Go."

"Fine," I said as I took my hands out of a newly opened box.

I walked out of my new room and shut the door behind me. This was my pitiful last attempt to keep the crazy kids out of my room. If would definitely be broken and they would all pour in while I was gone, going through everything. The probably wouldn't even try and be smooth about it either when I would get back. I'll probably find them all standing around a box, tearing the contents up.

I walked out my front door and the wall of humid air hit me. Inside the house, my mother had convinced my father to turn the air conditioning on and we were living in comfortable. Out here though, the heat and humidity was turned up and I would be soaked by the time I got home. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and ran across the street.

Guessing the house with more cars out in front of it was the one with the kids, I walked up the front steps. Hunched over, I rang the doorbell and waited for a response. Looking through the screen door, the door was opened and a little girl in a pink jumper stepped out. I hope this isn't the kid my dad was talking about because if it is, he is playing a very sick joke.

"Hello?"

"Hi," she said looking up at me. "What's your name?"

"Mikey," I said to her.

"Why?"

"'Cause that's what my parents named me."

"Why?"

"'Cause they wanted to."

"Why?"

"'Cause—." In the middle of coming up with a reason to explain my parents, a figure came out from behind her.

"Sarah, go back outside to your mommy. She has food waiting for you," he patted the little girl on the back and she skipped off.

"Sorry about that," he said as he opened up the screen door and came outside.

"It's fine," I said looking at him. It looked as if he had a mohawk, that was all black and that he hadn't styled today. His bang curled around his right eye, which was a deep hazel color, while the rest of it just flopped to one side or another. His black shirt was covered in wet marks, which continued onto his jeans. Then looking in his hand, I found the reason; he was carrying a water gun.

"So?"

"Right. So my dad said I should come over here and introduce myself. I'm Mikey and I moved in across the street."

"I'm Frank." We both stood there, unsure of what to say next. I had no other reason to be here and had nothing else to say. Neither of us looked at each other, I watched my house and saw family members crossing the big window in the front, to get to a different part of the house.

"Yeah, so?"

"I guess that's it," I said turning away from him and starting down the stairs. "Bye," I yelled behind me and crossed the street back to my house. by the time I made it to my front steps, I turned and saw that he was walking back into his house, this time water gun raised and ready for action.