I was born January 8th, 1992, the day George W. Bush was televised falling violently ill and vomiting into the lap of Prime Minister Kiichi Miyazawa at a state dinner before fainting. My father died before I was born, I grew up with my mother, Glenda McLair, and older sister Karen McLair. We lived a simple life in Hoboken, New Jersey. When I was 10, I moved to Belmont Shore, California. It was a big move; it seemed like a different world. I like Jersey Shore (No one knows this, though. Vinny is my boyfriend… in my world, anyway), I like knowing everything, even if I don't have to know it. I like my name. Not the whole stupid 'Juliet' part, but the Rose part was nice. Yes, my name was Juliet Rose McLair I hate a lot of things. I hate lies, even little white lies. Just come out with the truth! If you don't like what I said, tell me, not someone else; if you don't want to hang out with me, just tell me, don't make up an excuse. Sure, the truth hurts sometimes, but hell, lying is a waste of space. If you lie, you have to keep up that lie forever. I also hate it when people aren't themselves. That erks me. I wish I could have met Kurt Cobain. I have always been a happy person; always laughing and dancing, but one thing I could never get over was the death of my father. It wasn't something I could comprehend. Why did my mum never talk about him; why wouldn't she tell me how he died?
I was suspicious and, as I said before, I like knowing everything.
Things haven't been easy for a while now. Things haven't been making sense; going smoothly like they usually did. Life was not drama free as I was so confidently use to. I was prone to…snooping, to be honest. I usually interrogate my sister because she was honestly kind of hopeless under pressure. I sometimes felt a little bad just using her for my own good, but hey, who cares? So, eventually she caved and told me everything; everything my own damn mother was keeping from me. She told me all about Steven Carmichael. You see, Karen had a different father than me and she was 5 years older than me. Still, she knew everything about my life that was being kept from me. My life went into turmoil at that point in time. I was use to life with my Mother and my sister, trying to accept the fact that my father died before I was born.
What a waste of my time. You see, my whole life has been a lie. Thanks, Mum, much appreciated! What do you do when you spend your life thinking your father is dead? You tend to think about him, obviously. What he was like, how handsome he was, how wonderful he must have been. You get a little upset as a child when it's father's day, you frown a little at the kids playing with their fathers. You make your own mental picture of what this glorious man must look like and how cute he looked with your mother linked to his arm. Well that's all bullshit. What you should really be doing is, like back up checks to make sure your mother wasn't actually just lying to you all along! You know what else? I felt so betrayed all them times that I got an award or something from school and Mum would always say something all cutesy like 'Oh, your father would be proud' or 'I bet dad's watching you and he is so proud of you'. Like hell, mum.
Of course when I got all this info out of Karen I went straight to my Mother, furious, I was. I practically had steam coming out of my ears. Mum was angry with Karen, I was angry with Mum and Karen was angry at me. It was a bad time for all of us, me especially.
After a hell of a lot of arguing, ignoring, silence and yelling, I ended up here. 'Here' being this wet, freezing, totally not right at all town. I must have been kidding myself. How do I transition from Belmont Shore to freaking 'La Push'? What the hell kind of name is that, anyway. Still, I was here. Alone, and a little lost. My Mum was pretty pissed at me for wanting to come here, but hey, I done all the dirty work. I phoned Steven Carmichael, I told him who I was and I even told him I was a little pissed off myself. The trip here felt like I was in hell, so this place better be better than it looks. I mean, it was raining. I don't like rain. I don't like this freezing weather and I don't like that I was wearing jeans and a tank.
I stand in front of the faded red door. There was a door bell, but there was also a knocker. I hated that. Why did they have to leave you open for options. A person should either have a bell, or a knocker. Not both. Reluctantly, I choose the knocker. I wait, feeling nervous. I hardly ever get nervous. What feels like 50 years later, the door opens. The man in front of me was not like the person I imagined all these years in my head. He was… buff, dark skinned, actually good looking for an old guy, with hair to his shoulders. And he towered over me. I smile. He smiles. We stare, summarizing each other.
"Juliet" He states, a cheesy grin on his face.
"Rose, actually" I tell him, unsure of how to react to my long last father standing in front of me. I should be angry. Yeah, angry because he let me think he was dead my whole bloody life.
"Right, Glenda told me you preferred that, sorry" He tells me and I nod, staring at him. "Oh, yeah, come in, come in" He says nervously, shuffling out of my way and quickly taking my bags away from me. I walk into the house, looking around.
It was average size, big enough for us two, anyway. The wall paper was starting to peel and the photos on the wall had gathered dust. It was homey though. The living room was off to the left and I could see the kitchen in front of me, up the hall. There were a few closed doors down the hallway and I wondered which I would be staying in and which was the bathroom. Hopefully they were close. I take in the house as Steven drops my bags to the side of the hall, leading me up towards the kitchen. Without asking, he pours me a drink and tells me to make myself at home. I sit at the dining table, noticing the effort that he'd put in to make the house look pretty. There was a glass jar with a few flowers in the middle of the table, a few candles burning and more flowers by the sink. I'd been told Steven divorced his wife years ago and is still a single man, so the house obviously didn't have a female touch to it.
We talk about some things, just trivial things though. He was too friendly- asking me what I liked, what music I like, what foods, what sport. Everything, really. I told him the answers as best I could, asking him the same question back when I was done answering.
Eventually, time got away and it was getting dark. "So…" Getting courage to speak up "Where have you been the last 19 years? Not six feet under as I'd been so easily lead to believe"
"She told you I was dead?" He smirks at me, sipping his coffee and shaking his head. "Sheesh, bit harsh" He tries to joke, but I he could see I was serious. This is no time to joke. "Listen, Rose. I don't really know what to tell you. Your Mum and I had a thing back in the day, we done… stuff, we broke it off, moved separate ways and, well… I got told she was pregnant by a mate of mine, I had no idea. She never contacted me, even though I tried so, so hard to be a part of your life, she wouldn't let me. And apparently, I'm dead to her. That's it"
"That's it?" I ask, slightly disappointed. I mean, here I am thinking I was going to hear some awesome back story, but no. There's no secret FBI work involved or anything!
"Are you disappointed I'm not some sort of secret agent or something?" He smirks at me and I nod my head. We have the same sense of humour, obviously. He laughs. "It's getting late, you've been travelling. Come on, I'll show you the bathroom. Your room's straight across" We stand and I silently cheer. I love being close to the bathroom. I can dibs it first all the time!
I follow him back down the hall and he points out the bathroom before taking my bags into my room. The room had a bed, a desk and a cupboard. It was clearly the guest room, but I happily told him it was perfect and after he tells me he's going to bed, I dig through my bags until I find my pyjamas and quickly get in the shower.
The hot water feels amazing as it runs down my body and drenches my long hair. I try to hurry myself but it's hard to step out of the warmth of the water and into the coldness of the air. I do so unwillingly and wrap a towel around my body, stupidly realizing somewhere across the hall, I'd dropped my pyjama bottoms. I stand in the bathroom, contemplating what to do. There was really no choice, was there? Looking down at the towel, I notice it was quite short. But Steven had gone to bed so I was safe. I pick up my shirt and dirty clothes and slowly and quietly open the door.
"Who the fuck are you!" A voice exclaims, frightening me to the point of nearly dropping my towel. I clutch it too me and stare at the topless guy standing at the front door. "I don't mind half naked chicks in my house but seriously… what the fuck?" He says again, stepping closer to me.
"Who are you!" I retort back and he scoffs, looking me up and down slowly, a smirk on his face. I fold my arms in front of me, uncomfortable by the topless boy in the house who was checking me out. "Stop it!" I glare at him.
"Shit. You're not meant to be home tonight, you told me you weren't coming home tonight" Steven says from somewhere behind me. I spin around quickly and he glances between the two of us. I turn my head to glare once more at the boy and stand next to Steven.
"What is going on, dad?" the boy says. My mouth drops. I slowly turn to face Steven, staring at him with wide eyes. Is he kidding!
"Paul meet your sister, Rose meet your brother" Steven mumbles. I cringe as he says it. THIS IS A JOKE. IT HAS TO BE A JOKE.
"What! Dad, what the fuck does that mean! A sister! Who's her mother! Why is she here! She's not staying here. She isn't staying in my house. How old is she, 12! Shit, dad. What the hell? Why!" 'Paul' says, stepping towards us with each word. I glare at him harder.
"I'm 19, idiot" I seethe. He turns to me, looking me up and down again before quickly looking away.
"Ew, I've been checking out my sister! Put some fucking clothes on, for Christ's sake!"
"Ok, stop! Paul, calm down with the swearing… there's a lady in the house now" Steven says and Paul glares at me harder "Rose, you probably should go get dressed. Then I think we should all just sit and talk"
"This is an outrage!" Paul exclaims, throwing his hands up and walking into kitchen as I quickly get into my room and see my pants on the ground. I glare at them and quickly get dressed. A brother… I have a freaking brother! No one mentioned him. Angrily, I leave my room and enter the kitchen as I hear my name being called.
"Sit" Steven points to the seat next to him and across from Paul. "Now, I was hoping to avoid this, but obviously I'm an idiot"
Paul and I glare at each other from across the table. "Dad, I don't want her here" He says, sounding very spoilt.
"And I care, why?" Steven says "I know I never mentioned Rose to you, Paul but I never expected her mother to ever let her in my life, therefore there was no reason for you to know about her. Be nice, Paul"
I smirk at Paul as he stares in disbelief at his father… I mean our father. "I'm making no promises. If she's my sister, she will be treated like one of the family."
I can take it. Whatever he dishes out, I'll take willingly. He thinks he's so superior but he's is not. I will show him that I am awesome and he is shit. There, that's my new life goal. "May I go to bed now?" I ask in my sweetest, daughterly voice. Steven smiles at me and nod's, standing up and announcing that he's going to bed as well. I wander off to my room and sit on my bed, waiting for Paul to rudely enter my room as I know he will do.
Right on cue, my door swings open and he stands in my doorway. I smile at him sarcastically and he shakes his head slowly. "I'm not happy with this" He tells me seriously, closing the door softly so no noise was made.
"Oh, well I am overjoyed!" I say overly-sarcastic. He shakes his head slowly.
"Where the hell did you even come from?"
A million sarcastic and rude answers zoom around my head but I reluctantly ignore them. "Belmont Shore" I tell him seriously and he laughs.
"California, hey? Wow. Good luck…" He mumbles, laughing again.
"What does that mean?" I ask him demandingly.
He raises an eyebrow at me "A girl from Belmont Shore, moving to La Push? You have no hope here, girl. You may as well just head back over to your little Belmont Shore home and hang with your prissy little girl friends and… drink latte's or whatever the hell you do over there" He smirks, trying to freak me out. I glare at him as I stand up.
"You calling me prissy?" I ask him seriously and he laughs again. "And latte's, really? So, are you like, the local idiot or something?"
Silence falls over us as we glare at each other and he suddenly smirks. "Well, little sis, we'll see how long you last. Dad knows nothing about this conversation, right? I can play happy families if that's what he wants. Let me tell you, I am not going to make this easy, Rose"
"Good, easy is for losers. Bring it on bro. Steven doesn't know a thing, except for how happy we are being brother and sister. I am not backing down, now if you'll excuse me, a girl needs her sleep" I tell him back and he seems a little surprised as I look up at him, only now realizing that he towered over me more than Steven does. I push him out the door and, victoriously, I switch of my life and get into bed, glaring up at the ceiling.
Why must life be so aggravating? Neither Mum nor Karen mentioned Paul. I guess they didn't know, but seriously; a brother? I have a half-brother. What the hell? That's not even… argh. An annoying, idiotic and obviously arrogant half-brother. I wasn't going to let him win, though. He wasn't sending me home, he wasn't going to intimidate me and no way in hell am I letting him get away with it. Victory will be mine. I turn over in bed and pull the blankets over my head, suddenly feeling extremely tired.
