"I'm telling you guys, this place is going to be great! I can't wait until you see how green it is! No more skyscrapers for us!" My mom encouraged from the front seat where she held the giant map in front of her while she pointed out directions to my father. I guess you could say our family was a little…loopy. My mother, Corrine, was a fun loving, teenager at heart, but was also very stern and controlling when she didn't get her way. Her hair was blond and always in some crazy style, her eyes were green, and her skin was pale. She was a stay at home mom who centered her days around teaching my brother, John, everything she could cram into his head. My brother John was identical to her, and me seeing how we're identical twins. The only difference is that he's a boy and I'm a girl. Oh, yeah, and he was diagnosed with down syndrome when he turned two. It wasn't a bad case though, he functioned almost as well as any other sixteen your old boy, he was just a lot more immature, and not as…witty. My dad, William, well, he was a piece of work. He was an artist. He was also a librarian, a writer, a magician, and a workaholic. His life consisted of hanging around his art studio, or forcing us to move to unwanted places. Like out of New York and into a small reservation where he grew up. La Push. Just like any other native. His hair was black and his eyes were brown. And I thank the lord I did not inherit his looks. He was tall and lanky, my mother was short and slender, he was tanned and my mother was pale. They contrasted awkwardly, but didn't seem to notice.
Last of all there's me, Max. The girl with her hair dyed bright purple, the punk rock clothes, and the 'cute button nose that's so unlike your fathers.' I'm an inspiring artist. Hoping to follow in my fathers foot steps. I wouldn't count on it though. The best part about this trip is that I'll get to paint the ocean. But after the high of that wares off, it will just be another place we were forced to move to.
I wasn't particularly fond of this whole 'lets move to La Push for the year so we can go visit your father's child hood friends who probably wont even remember him' thing. I mean, why would you moved back to a place you ran away from when you were a teen? I didn't understand it. And since my mom thought it made sense, I knew it didn't.
"When're we go'ina get here?" John asked impatiently from the seat beside me.
"Soon." I told him the same thing I tell him every time he asks. He smiled at my answer.
"You say dat last time I ask." He pointed out with a giggle. I giggled back. I loved my brother. He was just so…fun.
"We're close!" My mother called back from the front seat, throwing her arms up in excitement and squeaking when the map fell from her hands. I rolled my eyes at her. She was such a little kid.
I looked over at John and winked before we turned back towards my mother and screamed "HOW CLOSE!" At the same time. Causing us to burst into laughter. Okay, so I wasn't actually this immature, or childish, but I did like to joke around and make jokes that John thought were funny. Kind of like when you play with little kids and you do things that only someone their age would find hysterical. Like that whole peek a boo thing. Get it? Eh, probably not. I suck at explaining things. You'll realize that with time.
Any who. I took extreme note to the fact that we were now surrounded by millions and millions of trees. It was so much green to take in at one time, I wanted to dye my hair that color. It was just so over bearing.
Another thing you should know about me, I dye my hair constantly. This time last week, my hair was red. But of course, I found that I like purple a lot more.
"We're here! Is this it honey? We're here right? Right!" My mother clapped like an excited two year old and actually started to bounce in her seat. I mean, I can't complain. I was doing the same thing.
"We here!" John chanted from the seat next to me. I let out a huge "EKK!" As we made our way out of my dads bright yellow vintage mustang and towards the small, red brink house, that was ten times bigger then our apartment flat in New York.
"This way kids! Race you to the rooms! I bet I can find the biggest one first!" My dad yelled, running towards the already open doors and charging up the steps. Me and John look at each other for a moment before screaming at the top of the lungs and scrambling past our mother who was trying to hurry into the house while tripping over her hot pink high hell shoes I told her not to wear.
My family had the weirdest fashion sense. My mother, wearing hot pink heels, a knee length yellow dress with purple flowers on it, and a blue jacket. My dad wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, and an oversized grey sweater. He screamed artist. My brother was simple, sense he didn't really care how he looked. He wore just a plain pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt. I, on the other hand, wore a simple, sleeveless black vest covered in various buttons, and a knee length black pencil skirt with black combat boots. The whole outfit screamed, 'screw you winter!' and it made me proud.
No one seemed to care about my fashion sense in New York, there, everyone had a different style, and there was so many people, no one really noticed anyway. But here in La Push, people were already coming out of the houses near by to get a better look at us. Not that we cared.
My father, being the competitive man he is, got the biggest, and best room. But in his defense, he did have to share with my mother. I got the smallest room. Well, actually I got the second biggest room, but John cried because he got the smallest to we switched. How nice am I?
I brought my boxes into my room and slowly unpacked my things. It didn't take me very long. I didn't have that much stuff. The thing that took the longest was my collection of bean bag babies, and those took up a giant book shelf. Leaving me to pile my books under my bed.
There weren't that many. Maybe fifty. I gave most away to my friends before we left. We were nerds like that.
"Max! Pie!" My mother called to me from downstairs. Oh no, mom? Cooking? Not. Good. Please don't burn down our new house! How did she even learn to make pie in the first place!
I ran down the steps, John following smugly out of his room. He was so adorable.
"Mom, please don't tell me you're attempting to cook again! Remember what happened last time!" I argued urgently as I walked into the kitchen. But the pie was already made and sitting on the table. Also sitting at the table was a young woman who looked about in her twenties.
Her hair was long and black, and her eyes almost matched her skin. I was momentarily shocked by the three long scares running down her face. They looked…painful. I quickly composed my face after realizing I was starring.
"Emily, this is my daughter Max, and my son John." My mom gestured proudly as my brother walked into the kitchen behind me.
"What's dat on yerr face?" John asked rudely, pointing at the woman's face. I nudged his lightly and gave him a disapproving frown but to be honest, I wanted to know too. Besides, John didn't know better.
"Oh, these?" Emily asked with a smile, pointing to her scars. I nodded, silently urging her on. "I got mauled by a bear a while back. Ferocious things those bears." Emily noted kindly. She didn't seem to be bothered by my brothers rudeness.
"Look Max! Emily brought pie!" My mother exclaimed, the goofiest of grins on her face. I just nodded and laughed at her a little. She was such a child!
"It's apple. I hope you like it. Oh, we're your neighbors. Well, we live a couple yards away, but we are the house next door." Emily said, getting a far away look in her eye, probably measuring the distance. Not that I really needed to know.
"Oh. Well that's good to know." I smiled, glad that the people around here didn't seem so bad. "Once I make something I'll have to bring it over for you to try." I told her simply, though I didn't really plan on doing so.
"Make ookies! I help!" John said, throwing his hands in the air joyously and rummaging through the boxes that were piled in the kitchen for the cookie mix. I sighed dramatically, I'm a total drama queen, and went over to help him.
"Well I'll just be letting you get back to unpacking. My fiancée will be worried if I'm not there when he gets home." Emily said absently as she left the house. We shouted good bye's and thank you after her until we heard the thudding of the front door.
"She was such a nice woman! She brought us pie! Can you believe it! PIE!" My mother enthused. I couldn't help but giggle softly at her. She went about putting away everything in the kitchen, and moved onto the living room while we made cookies. Chocolate chip of course. They're John's favorites.