Chapter One

George Michael sat in his lower bunk bed, trying to read his book for school. His mind however, kept on wondering to his cousin Maeby who was also reading in her bed. Not helping to George Michael's feeling of distraction was the fact that the bed Maeby was in, was just above him, as she shared the top half of the bunk bed in the model home of the only home to had been constructed by the Bluth company in the Sudden Valley project. The book he was reading was on mathematics, but he was neither interested enough to read the it properly or energetic enough to read downstairs. So, instead, his eyes just skimmed over the pages, taking in random words and phrases, his mind concentrated fully on the girl above him.

Maeby, lying in the bed above her cousin was not reading for school, but rather the new script for her upcoming movie about a girl who could speak to dead historical figures. In one scene, Cindy (the main character) got home after being bullied, so, using her special powers she asked Martin Luther King for advisor on how to stand up to bullies. The script was both educational and fun, although Maeby suspected that the scene where Hitler helps Cindy with her World War Two project would not be suited to a Jewish demographic. She was more interested in her script then George Michael was in his book, but she to could not think properly. She had learnt a few days ago that their fake marriage had in fact been a real marriage; much to her dismay. She was 16, and she was way too young to be married, and yet she was, and to her cousin as well. It also didn't help that, no matter how much se tried to deny it, she still had some lingering feelings for him. Today her mind kept on going back to the first time they kissed three months ago on that sofa in the living rom. But George Michael was her cousin, and there was no way anything could happen between them. She just kept on dreading that her mom would find out about them, or even worse, that her uncle Michael would find out. Somehow, Maeby suspected that Michael's mantra of "family first" did not extend to sexual relations between cousins.

There was a knock at the door which woke the two teenagers up from their thoughts. George Michael got up and replied, "come in", to the knocker.

In stepped Gob, the usual grin on his face, and immediately George Michael had a feeling he was going to be asked to do something that he would not normally do.

"Hey kids, what's up?" Gob asked, his grin still wider than ever.

"We're fine," replied George Michael, his internal body clock timing how long until Gob asked for whatever it was he wanted.

"Yeah me to, I've got a magic show going at a local primary school, so I'm just preparing my illusions. But I checked online and the schools mostly African-American, so I thought, just to make the pupils all feel at rest that I would introduce them to Franklin."

George Michael shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think that's the best idea uncle Gob, not after you used Franklin at that magic act in the black church."

Gob snorted. "Yeah, just because some black people don't like Franklin, all black people don't like Franklin. Honestly, I would expect better from you George Michael."

As a matter of fact, very few black people had a problem with Franklin per say, it was more the 40-year old white guy controlling his voice in the duet known as 'its not easy being white,' which had a tendency to make some African-Americans feel a tad patronised. "Anyway", Gob continued, "I have to go to some stupid board meeting or Michael would kill me, so I need you two kids to go up to the attic and find Franklin for me."

At this, Maeby instantly rose from her bed and looked at her uncle with incredulity. "And why in a million years would we do that?" she asked.

"Because," Gob began "if you do this for me their might be some money in it for you," Gob said, and putting his hand behind George Michael's ear he pulled out a mouse which immediately squealed and scuttled under the desk. "Oh sorry, must have been the wrong hand. I've got to come up with a way of remembering that."

George Michael and Maeby at their uncle's insistence soon found themselves looking through craters of boxes in order to find Gob's puppet, Franklin. They had presumed the job would be easy, but ever since their grandfather had moved out of the attic it had once again become a dumping ground for the family's rubbish. Old cornballers that were never permitted for US production lay scattered around the edges of the room, Tobias's cut-offs were packed into an old suitcase while George Sr's doll friends were stashed away back into the doll house, a look of sadness and loneliness marked on their faces as if they had just been through some sort of break up. In a way they had.

"Hey, I think I found something." Maeby signalled to her cousin to come around as she found a number of letters in a brown box at the back of the attic.

George Michael went over to check out what Maeby had find, only to feel his heart stop. It stopped like a speeding car breaking to avoid a child walking across a road. What he found himself staring at was the love letters he had written to himself confessing his love for his cousin. Maeby was examining the letters, her eyes growing wider. George Michael rushed over to her and immediately lunged for the box but Maeby had already got hold of a few of the letters and was reading them, retreating across the floor, reading as she did so, taking in the words that he had written about her.

"Oh, that's nothing," George Michael nervously sputtered, the words stumbling out of his mouth. His palms had suddenly becoming sweaty, beads of sweat dripping from them in such magnitude he looked like he could have just come out of a swimming pool. A very sweaty swimming pool.

"What is this?" Maeby asked, looking straight at George Michael.

"Its nothing," George Michael repeated as he desperately tried to snatch the bundle of letters his cousin was reading from her hand. Maeby was quicker however and darted to the other side of the attic ducking beneath his arms to increase the space between the two of them. She was taking in George Michael's written words with both confusion and understanding.

"You love me." It wasn't a statement Maeby had asked her cousin, but rather it was a statement. "These letters, you wrote these because you love me, don't you?"

George Michael felt his whole world, his whole reality come crashing down on him, like the roof of his life had collapsed and he was stranded in the rubble of the aftermath. He could only stand there, his mouth open, utterly defeated. "Yes, but, no, but … you see, I wrote those letters ages ago; and I mean ages ago."

And then, to George Michael's surprise Maeby laughed. The laugh was not a kind laugh, or a happy laugh, but a laugh interwoven with cruelty and a desire to humiliate. It struck him still, as if the embarrassment had frozen him still so that he could not respond or even defend himself from her heartless tone.

"Well, I guess you must have always felt something for me otherwise you wouldn't have kissed me, but this," she said, indicting to the letters in her hands as if they were proof of her superiority over him, "well I could not have predicted this."

George Michael just stood there. He felt hurt and humiliated, and he wasn't just going to take it, but he couldn't protect himself either and so, without saying a word, he stormed out of the attic. He stormed out, away from Maeby, away from the letters, away from his feelings, but above all, away from the sense of being made to feel small that had been induced to him like poison to his veins when Maeby, standing there, had laughed at him with such cruelty she may as well have plunged a sharp cold knife into his heart.