The two boys stood in silence exactly where the cliffhanger had left them. Yong Soo's almond eyes were wide and his heart was pounding like a bass drum. Alfred's request was so loud that they now had an audience of three Ims, five Wangs and a Honda. Yong Soo got up and shuffled to the door.

Mi-hyeo Im, the matriarch of the house (Yong Soo's grandmother, the rich one), stepped forward. "Igeos sonyeon-i YongSoo-reul gyeolhonhae shippeo?" She gestured toward Alfred with a bony finger.

"Yae," answered Yong Soo, nodding from his spot at the doorway.

"What you GPA, Alfred Jones?" Mi-hyeo Im asked in her thick accent.

"Three-point-seven."

"What you future plan?"

"Uh, astronomy. B- Byeol… hago… haengsong-eui…gongbu, right?"

Yong Soo nodded silently.

"You make grandchild for me of daughter?"

"Uh well, um. Nae."

Yong Soo's grandma turned around, and said something in Korean that Alfred couldn't understand. (He had asked Yong Soo about a couple of phrases before, but he really couldn't say anything.) Yong Soo's face fell at his grandmother's words, whatever they were. The relatives dispersed.

Yong Soo, near tears, came up to Alfred. "I- I'm sorry," he whimpered, "Grandma says that you aren't allowed here anymore. I'm sorry. I really do love you, Alfred."

The American couldn't believe his ears. He pulled Yong Soo into a tight hug, kissing his face all over before they let go several minutes later.

He slowly made his way out the door, got in the car, started it, and drove off with the most melancholy background music playing in his head-movie.

Later that week, on the sunny Friday of July 15, 2005, a still heartbroken Alfred was shoved into the family minivan by his parents and brother. They drove out to the neighboring suburb where Alfred's mass of cousins lived. The Kirkland family had six kids, one of whom was adopted from Africa. If she's from Africa, thought Alfred, then why is she white?

"I know what you're thinking, Bro," said Matt, gaze not moving from his PSP. "You can't just ask people why they're white."

After reaching the Kirkland house, where the Joneses would be for the weekend, Alfred was told he would be staying in Rowan's room, who was a year his junior.

"Where should I put my bag?" asked Alfred

"Oh, anywhere," replied the androgynous teen.

"O… kay?"

After placing his bag "oh anywhere"—wherever that was—Alfred intruded upon the room of his college-age cousin Arthur.

And promptly ran back out, screaming like a little girl.

"ALFRED, YOU GIT! You do not just come into other people's rooms when they are engaging in… 'mature activity,'" Arthur said, poking his head out of his door, showing a bit of his naked torso.

"Unless you want to join us?" Arthur's French frenemy (with benefits) popped up behind him.

Later, with the fuck-buddies fully clothed, Alfred and the pair sat on the floor of Arthur's room.

Alfred sniffed randomly. "It smells like sex in here…" He pondered this. "Sex sure smells a lot like escargot chanson fromage amour baguette."

"So what is it you want to ask me, Alfred?" began Arthur, ignoring his nonconforming cousin.

"I'm… having romance problems."

"Well I certainly the person to ask," scoffed the Angle. He pointed to Francis, "Ask the Ambassador of L'Amour over here."

Francis Bonnefoy was really, really French. He even laughed like a Frenchman. "Ohonhonhonhon."

"Well, mon Amerique, tell me your predicament."

"Okay so there's this guy and I thought we were best friends and shit and we even performed a ritual of brotherhood saying basically that we would be totally bros forever but we ended up kissing and then we went to this Greek dude's house and I wore a toga and we kissed again and then I got a car and he was all like 'you're my boyfriend not my friend' and I'm all 'well I'll just fix up Liberty (that's the car's name) then' and I fixed up Liberty and drove her to his house and accidentally asked him to marry me and his family is all traditional and shit so they banished me from Verona or some shit and now I don't know what to do HELP ME."

Francis and Arthur sat there, blank faces and tight lips.

"Sounds like quite a problem," commented the Frenchman.

"You understood that?" Arthur retorted

"Oui. Now Alfred, lend me your ear…."

Even later, Alfred and some of his younger, not sexually active cousins were in the backyard jumping on one of those big trampolines. Since this was the suburbs, people just kind of had stuff like that.

Alfred mused on his family. Jett was Alfred's age had a bandage on his face that served no purpose. Piper was eleven and covered in paint. Peter a year older than her, and wore a ridiculous (but admittedly kind of cool) sailor's outfit. Sadie was the same age as Rowan, and white but from Africa which made no sense to Alfred (she also smelled of Tuna and had quite the attitude). And did Rowan have a vagina or a penis?

Holidays are never boring.

"PETER YOU ARSE GIVE ME BACK MY TEN MILLIMETER FILBERT RIGHT NOW!" yelled Piper, chasing the sailor-suited boy all over the backyard.

Alfred, Jett, and Rowan bounced around on the blue trimmed entertainment apparatus.

Rowan spoke up. "So," bounce. "Alfred," bounce. "I hear," bounce. "You're having," bounce. "Guy," flip(!). "Troubles," bounce.

"How," bounce. "Did you know about those?" bounce. Alfred was still in shock about how flexible his cousin was. A freakin' flip!

Rowan stopped bouncing, and stared past Alfred with a serious look on his face. "Nothing is sacred in this household."

A second later, his face transformed into a grin, and he went back to jumping.

Jett spoke up with that constant shit-eating grin of his. "Ya boy won't let ya touch 'is tits?"

Rowan hopped over to his brother and slapped him upside the head.

"Don't listen to Jett because Jett doesn't listen to anyone. Fair trade."

Alfred was kind of starting to like Rowan. Even if he had no idea whether his cousin had boobs or not.

Rowan spoke again, "We're reading Romeo and Juliet in class. I was think to myself that maybe, maybe, wouldn't it be easier if Juliet just went with Romeo to Mantua? Or maybe if, they like, went to Denmark or something, and met Hamlet…"

Alfred just stopped bouncing. Every Kirkland has gone coconuts, he thought as he stepped off of the trampoline.

He went inside, and was immediately shoved over to help Sadie with the dishes.

He scrubbed. She dried. "UUhhh, um. Uh. Bonjour?"

"I speak English, you ass."

"Okay good. Because. I don't speak French."

He tried to make the situation less awkward.

"So… Where are you from?"

"Seychelles."

"Wh-"

"Before you ask where that is, it's a collection of islands above Madagascar, and people of a lot of different races live there. That—that is why I'm brownish-tanish." She huffed. The dish in her hand was really dry from her anger-applied wiping.

Alfred wondered how she could answer all the questions he had in his head. Was she a mind reader?

"You must get asked that question a lot."

"Yeah. It gets to you."

Alfred nodded, turning back to the pot in his hand.

She started up again a minute later. "It was Arthur's turn to do the dishes, but he was entertaining a guest so the duty was shoved over a day AND I WAS GOING TO WORK ON MY EXTRA-CREDIT BIOLOGY PROJECT BUT NOOOO I HAVE TO WASH THE DISHES!"

"I could uh, take over for you if you want?"

"Really?"

"Sure, it's no problem."

"THANK YOU, YOU'RE THE BEST COUSIN EVER! Oh and here's some advice for you and your lover," she got on her tip-toes and whispered the weirdest solution ever that would never work into his ear.

The rest of the weekend went off like a normal visit to the Kirkland house, which, if you compare it to a visit to some other house, isn't really that normal. Peter managed to set the garden on fire; Arthur lost it because it was basically his garden. Francis was forced to sleep in Rowan's room with Alfred, and Alfred thought he felt something on his butt in the middle of the night. (By the way, Rowan had the most gender-neutral sleepwear in the world.) Saturday, the gang went to the zoo that was conveniently closer to the Kirkland's neighborhood than the Jones'. There, Piper almost got eaten by an Alpaca, Jett fed a crocodile some cotton candy, and Francis got shoved into the monkeys' area because of this and that and groping Arthur's butt. Within an hour and a half the group got kicked out of the zoo. Again.

Sunday was slightly calmer. (If you, the readers, haven't caught on by now that Francis lives with the Kirklands, I am telling you now.) Alfred accidentally walked in on a naked Frenchman, who screamed like a little girl and threw his toothbrush at Alfred. The toothbrush hit glasses-absent Alfred in the eye. After returning from the doctor, who said it was not a big thing just take some painkillers and get the fuck out of here, Alfred laid down on the couch and texted Kiku, who he had befriended over his many visits to the Im-Wang household.

hey dude do u no how ys is doin

hes doing ok but thers ben lot of crying n shouting

ouch

yes he sed that ur the onry 1 4 him

don't u mean only

sorry i mean that yes

my cuzins gave me all these crzy ideas that wuldnt work

how do u no they don't work?

…

kiku honda u r the giver of all brite litebulbs

arigato

wat

Alfred looked up at the ceiling, pondering those crazy ideas that would never work and the possible foreshadowing done by his androgynous cousin. He also pondered talking to skulls and cross-dressing.

Chapter 6 30% done. I am too lazy to tell you what the Korean means but I mean it's not really that important. If you're really curious just Google it or something. SO, WHO ELSE ISN'T STUDYING FOR FINALS? I am not a good student. Yep okay bye.