A/N: Nanananana ... back again with chapter three! Seems like people like the story... that's nice! It's also a lot of fun to write it :) Sorry I haven't updated so long, but I didn't like the way this chapter turned out and so I rewrote the biggest part of it. That's what took me so long. Hope you can forgive me (pleading smile here).
I'd like to dedicate this chapter to all my reviewers. Special thanks to Usagi of Feudal Moon Era, narutorules03, and xblondexloserx.
Very special thanks to Frosted-Windows for actually criticising the story a bit. That encouraged me to tighten up the plot!
Disclaimer: I don't Holes or any of the characters from that wonderful novel. (snif) Louis Sachar does. Btw., did you know that he plays that half-bold man named Mr. Collingwood (or whatever the name was) in the movie? (Remember? That guy whose wife is told by Onion-Sam to rub onion juice on her husband's head so his hair would grow?) I noticed it today, and was totally stunned.
Chapter three - The idea of the year
During breakfast I couldn't help but giving Ricky sidelong glances, which he returned with his ever-so-amused grin. My parents- ... no: our parents were chatting lightheartedly about business, the weather, the shopping mall they had visited, and so on... until finally they did what they seemed to have been waiting for the entire morning: they turned to Ricky and gave him their most dazzling smiles. "So Ricky, how was your first night?" my mother asked.
The boy swallowed a sip of coffee and smiled back. "Well, Mom, not very long, but the bed is way more comfy than the one in the orphanage, and I slept very well, thanks."
My mother was practically radiating happiness, and my father read the newspaper with his 'I-just-finished-the-deal-of-the-century'-grin. My mothers voice was dripping with sweetness as she said "Oh...I still can't quite believe that you're a part of this family now..."
"I'm speechless, too..." I muttered under my breath, taking a sip of coffee. But the Ricky-boy heard me and gave me 'the grin' again.
"So you're Ean." he said, "Mom and Dad have told me so much about you."
I gave my parents an evil glare, trying to figure out what the hell they had told him about me. "Did they?"
Suddenly, like following a command only they could hear, my parents grinned at each other and got up in the same second.
"We are so terribly sorry..." my father said with regret that was so obviously fake that I had to fight the urge to throw my cup at him, "...but international business doesn't wait."
"We'll be back for dinner, of course." my mother added, giving first Ricky, and then me a quick kiss onto the forehead. "Ean my darling, would you mind preparing something nice? That's my good girl!"
And off they went, leaving a furious me and an amused Ricky behind
For the next five minutes I continued staring into the void, occasionally taking sips of my coffee. But how shall I ignore a person who keeps on constantly grinning at me?
"Would you mind telling me what's so fucking funny?" I hissed angrily.
"I'm counting the seconds 'til you set the table on fire with your glare." Uuuh ... so the guy thought he was funny!
"And that's your reason for annoying me with your constant grinning?"
"Nah, it's just funny to watch you radiate grumpiness." The guy didn't only think he was funny, he also had the wish to die young!
"Well, then you're easily amused." I shot back.
"If you say so." Gosh, did he always have to have the last word?
After breakfast, I got up immediately because I wanted to put on some decent clothes. The Ricky-boy got up, too, and followed me through the corridor. I turned around at him abruptly, "Don't you have anything else to do but following me?" I said.
He seemed to be honestly surprised, "I'm not following you! I'm on the way to my bedroom!"
"Yeah, of course!"
"Really! 'Up to the second floor, turn right and walk down the corridor. Your room is the fourth one on the right side.' That's just exactly what Dad said when he told me where to sleep!"
"But that's imp-... wait, did you say 'the fourth room'?"
"Yeah."
"Uh huh..." Well, I didn't know that my parents were so deceitful. They had given him the bedroom next to mine!
'I think I need to talk to my dear parents...' I thought as I climbed up the stairs, the Ricky-boy always behind me.
"Hey, you've got the bedroom next to mine!" he exclaimed as I opened my door.
"What you don't say!" I yelled and slammed the door shut behind me, making the mirror and windows tremble.
I had just finished brushing my teeth and dressing up in a long, loose, dark red skirt and a black tank top, as I heard a knock at the door. "Ean? You in there?" ... Ricky. Of course. The door opened slightly and his head with all the frizzy hair on it popped into the room. "Nice room you got here. May I come in?"
"No, you may n-..." I tried to say, but he had already entered.
"I was wondering if...uhm... if you could help me with unpacking my clothes?" he said, looking slightly embarassed. I glared at him disapprovingly.
"You're sixteen years old. Can't you do that by yourself?"
"Well... Mom insisted on buying everything I tried on and ...err...there isn't enough space to stowe all the clothes away."
I sighed heavily and walked over to the door. "You're lucky I wasn't reading."
"Why?"
"Because it takes a book weeks to fester out of a face."
He glimpsed at me and then started laughing. "You definitely are the grumpiest girl I've ever met."
His room was a total mess. 'At least it matches his hair.' I thought as I looked around. Clothes were spread all across the place, a small bureau was overflowing with t-shirts and boxershorts, and the bedclothes were completely rumpled. Half-empty shopping-bags and an empty suitcase were bunched together on a pile next to his bed.
"In the changing room there is plenty of space." I said, glaring at him.
He gave me a heavily confused look. "In the what?"
'Ooookay Ean, don't jump at his throat... he cannot know it...' I thought, struggling not to whack his head. With quick steps I walked to a hidden door in the corner of the room, opened it, and stepped into the chamber behind. "This..." I said, pointing at the empty shelves and hangers and the huge mirror, "...is a changing room, genius."
"Whoa, what the heck... you mean, I've got an entire room only for my clothes?"
"That's just exactly right. Now put your things in here, and, for God's sake, empty the bloody bureau!" With these words I went back into my room. 'That task should keep him busy for some time.' I thought, sitting down on my bed with a book about the Punic Wars.
It took the boy two hours to do what I had told him. Then, there was the knock at the door again. "Ean? I'm finished. Wanna have a look?". An image appeared in my head, of me giving him a cracker, and saying 'Datta good boy.' while patting his messy head.
"No I don't!" I yelled.
"Why not?"
"Beacuse it's not my room, and I'm not interested anyways!" I said, reconcentrating on my lecture and believing that I had made my point clear.
Well, to Ricky it obviously wasn't clear enough: "Then why did you help me?" he asked.
I didn't reply, hoping that my remaining silent would show him how much I wanted to talk to him any longer.There was a short silence, and I was already convinced of him having left for something that was more interesting than waiting for an answer that would never come. Well, I was wrong.
"Ean? Are you dead?" he said, and then his worried face popped into the room again. I didn't even make efforts to glare at him, but simply groaned in annoyance.
"Oh good, you're okay." he smiled at me, and casually came over to my bed to sit down on the edge of it. "Watcha readin' ?"
"A book." I said matter-of-factly.
" 'bout what?"
'Why doesn't the prat just read the title?" I asked myself, still not looking at him. There was an uncomfortable silence as I kept on reading and he kept on staring at me curiously. After two minutes, it was me who broke the silence. "Is there a third arm coming out of my head, or what?" I said, throwing my book down onto my lap.
"Nah, I'm just trying to talk to you." he said, and, for once, his face was serious.
"Why? Because you want it, or because my-... our parents asked you to try and get me talking?" With this question I caught him. He had, at least, the decency to blush a bit.
"Errr... well, okay, they asked me to..."
"Then let me tell you that this is not going to work. Momentarily I'm way more interested in the Punic Wars than in this little conversation." I picked my book up again, "Seems, like you have to find someone else on who's nerves you can get.". He blinked, but didn't move.
"Goodbye." I said, meaningfully looking at the door.
Like in trance, he rose and slowly left the room. and I sighed with relief. Then, the door opened again.
"Ean? What am I supposed to do in this house?" Mr. Let's-Annoy-Ean asked.
"... whatever you like. As long as you don't annoy me."
"Am I annoying you right now?"
" ... "
He grinned evilly - and here I have to admit that he did indeed look a bit scary "Is there a TV in the livingroom?"
"Of course." God, how stupid was that kid? But at least he finally turned around and went whizzing off to watch TV. I was ready to open a bottle of champagne.
I didn't see him for almost the rest of the day, which I was very grateful for. But around seven p.m. the unavoidable happened...
"Ean? Are you still in your room?"
" ... yes."
"Didn't Mom ask you to prepare something for dinner?"
"Maybe..."
"Aren't you going down to the kitchen?"
"What am I? My mother's cook?" I shot back angrily. "I didn't even say yes when she asked me!"
"Then just do it because it would make her happy." Seriously, how stupid and naive was this kid? If he wanted to make her happy, he could go to the kitchen!
"Do it yourself." I said, turning around a page in my book.
"But..."
"See, I don't want to do it, I'm not hungry and I have no interest in a family gathering around the table! Okay? So just cook the fucking food yourself!"
Ricky's head popped into the room and he stared at me, completely stunned. Then something in his face changed and he gave me that evil, frightening grin again. "I think that you are going to help me."
"Oh really? Why so?"
"Because ..." he jumped into the room, over to my bed, and snatched my book away from me, "...now you lost your apology for not doin' it!" and he held my book up into the air triumphantly, still grinning like a maniac. I couldn't lhelp but thinking how immature teenage boys could be sometimes. I glared at him.
"Oh please, you're sixteen years old, don't you-..."
"No, I'm not."
"What?"
"Sixteen. I'm seventeen, turning eighteen next month. Are you going to help me now? I mean, actually it's your job to make the food." Fine. He had won. Before the immature Mr. Let's-Annoy-Ean was able to annoy me to death I got up with a heavy sigh and dragged my feet towards the kitchen.
He was a horrible cook. Maybe he was able to prepare breakfast, with toast and eggs and bacon, but that was it. I asked him to peel potatoes and he kept on constantly cutting his fingers. I asked him to put the potatoes (which I had to peel in the end) into the boiling water, and what did he do? He dropped them into the pot, making the hot liquid splatter on his hands. I swear, I never want to hear him scream like that again.
Finally, I told him to clean and cut the broccoli, reconcentrating on the meat I was frying in a pan. Everything seemed to go fine, there were no 'ouch!'es or 'ah, my finger!'es coming from his direction anymore and I believed that he had finally learnt how to not amputate his finger with a kitchen knife, until I turned around. I couldn't even say something, because I was so shocked about what he had done to the broccoli. He turned around to find me staring wide-eyed at what he had produced. "See, I can do it! Now where are the other pots?". I didn't answer, still staring at the green ... mess on the chopping board. "Ean? Where are the pots? ... Hello? Ean?"
I finally regained language. "What ... is that?" I asked, pointing at the broccoli-battlefield.
"Broccoli?"
"What did you do to the vegetable?"
"I cleaned and cut it, like you said. See? I cut off the buds and then chopped the stalk into little pieces, so we can boil them."
"Uhm... usually, you boil the buds, and throw away most of the stalk." I said, talking to him as if he was a particularly slow person.
" ... "
" ... "
"Why didn't you tell me before?" he whined, now also looking on the remains of the broccoli.
"Because I didn't think that a nearly-eighteen-year-old wouldn't know what part of a broccoli is to be eaten, and which part is not." I said calmly, trying to put as much of 'You are the biggest idiot ever.' as I could into the sentence. "Well, seems, like we'll have green beans instead."
"Oh please, no beans! I'm so overfed with beans!" he said, giving me a desperate look.
"Fine, carrots then. But I'll make them."
" 'kay."
To say that our parents were positively surprised by the food would be the understatement of the year. I simply rolled my eyes and remained silent as my mother hugged the two of us (means, Ricky and me) saying that she found it 'wonderful' how great we seemed to get along, for we had produced such a nice meal.
Get along! As if. He had been annoying me since he didn't have anything else to do anymore, and I really had wanted to threaten him with the kitchen knife again, just so he would shut up. But now we all sat around the table, with our plates full of food in front of us.
"Oh this is really delicious!" my mother exclaimed as she tasted the first bite. "I didn't know you were such a good cook, Ean!"
"See? You're making her happy." Ricky whispered to me. I decided on ignoring him.
"So my little darlings, what did the two of you do during this whole long day, huh?" my mother asked in her sweetest happy-family-voice, which always made me want to make her shut up with the help of some glue.
"I unpacked my things, and then I went watching TV." Ricky said, chewing on a piece of carrot. I said nothing.
"Didn't Ean show you around?"my father asked, sending me a sharp look.
"Nuh uh." Ricky replied, giving me a curious glance. "Was she supposed to?"
"Yes, she was."
"Well, my dear father, this is the first time I hear that I was to show him around." I said, giving my father an icy glare. He returned it, lowering his fork. Then, my mother rose her voice, trying to keep us from starting a discussion. "Let's not fight over that topic. I think Ean wouldn't mind to show Ricky around the house tomorrow, would you, my love?"
"Actually, I would mind it." I said matter-of-factly. My parents and 'brother' stared at me. I continued eating indifferently, ignoring their dumbstruck faces. Then my father spoke again.
"Ean, you are not going to ignore your brother anymore! Otherwise..."
"What? I won't get cookies for one week? Oh, I'm so terrified!"
"...otherwise, this summer there will be no stay at the lake for you.". I dropped my fork, staring at my father who looked rather angry now.
"Don't you think, you're exaggerating now?" I asked, trying to make clear to him how much he was overreacting. "You know how much spending the summer there means to me."
"Yes, I do. And that's why you will show Ricky around the house tomorrow. And you are going to spend time with him, got that?"
"You can't force me to spend time with him!" I exclaimed, getting up. My mother took hold hold of my elbow and pulled me back down onto my chair. I glared at my father furiously. "You simply cannot."
"Ean, it seems to me like you forgot that we are your parents. So stop being so arrogant and listen to me." my father said calmly. I just glared at him. "It is important that you two..." he looked at me and Ricky, "...get used to each other, otherwise there would have been no point in adopting Ricky."
I looked at my parents. "What about you?" I asked, "As you just stated, you are our parents, so why don't you spend some time with him?". Ricky shifted on his chair uncomfortably, as if something was bothering him. Then he blurted out "Dad, Ean, please stop arguing. See, I'm fine on my own."
My father wasn't convinced. "But it's not good that Ean stays on her own all day." he said, speaking to no one in particular. "She really should have some company. And stop being so selfish."
"I'm neither selfish, nor do I need or even want company." I said. I had had this discussion with my parents way too often, and it started getting on my nerves.
"But it's not good for you! Don't you see that you are turning into somewhat kind of a sociopath? And-..."
"..and I am afraid..." I said cooly, getting up slowly, "...that this is not a topic to be discussed right in front of the boy.". I turned around and left for my room, leaving my stunned family behind. A sociopath? Good heavens, my parents were seriously overreacting now. And I felt that later this evening a curious Ricky would come knocking on my door.
But as the evening went on, no one tried to talk to me, and I fell asleep with my book resting on my chest.
The next morning I dressed up before going down to the kitchen, so I wouldn't stand in front of Ricky in my revealing pj again. After all, he was still a teenage boy! When I walked into the kitchen I found my mother and him, preparing breakfast together, obviously having fun while doing so. I rolled my eyes and snatched the newspaper from my father's hands. "Hey!" he exclaimed, but as he looked up and saw me, a warm smile appeared on his face. "Good morning, Ean. So you finally decided on joining us, my little sociopath, huh?"
I ignored him, disappearing behind the newspaper. He pulled the upper margin of it down and smirked at the sight of my annoyed face, as I tried to withdraw the thing from his grip. "You might at least say 'Good morning'. I don't think we spoiled you so much you didn't know that."
"Good morning, family." I said sarcastically, and finally got my father's hands off the paper. My mother chuckled. "Are you coming, my little sociopath? It's toast and mixed fruit salad for breakfast." And the three of them went into the dining room, my mother carrying a full tablet. I groaned and got up. It seemed like they were trying to cheer me up and test me by calling me 'my little sociopath'. Oh, how extremely funny they were sometimes! A I sat down at the table, the bad mood that had been lying on the family like a dark cloud yesterday, occured to have disappeared completely. My mother was quietly exchanging jokes with Ricky, and my father sat there, watching them giggle with a smile on his face. Then, all by sudden and unexpectedly he snatched the newspaper from my hands, hiding it behind his back. "So, Ean. Today you're going to show Ricky around, huh? Maybe you should take some sandwiches with you, just in case the two of you get lost.". He and my mother grinned at each other and I sent them angry glances. Whenever possible, they would warm up the old story of how once I got lost in the huge house as a small child. And they had just did it again.
"Well, seems so." I said, and they looked at me in surprise. Obviously they had been expecting me to protest. But I was tired of this game (anyways, I didn't like playing games very much), and had decided on my way down to the kitchen, that my father, trying to keep me from going to our summer home, would be worse than showing the boy the most important rooms in the house. Doing so would also have a positive side result: Immediately after finishing the tour, I'd be able to grab my car keys and leave for the house at the lake. Alone.
We finished breakfast and I headed for the kitchen door. "If you still want the tour, you should get your ass moving. Now." I said, looking at Ricky expectantly, and he got up and hurried after me.
Showing him around wasn't so bad after all. He appeared to have learned that I wasn't keen on conversation, and so most of the tour passed by in silence. Then, just as we walked past the library (yes, we had one of those cliché home libraries), he gave me his curious look again. "Are you really turning into a sociopath?" he asked, eyeing me with interest.
"Hell, no!" I snapped, "They're just making this up to make me get in contact with more people. What they don't realise is that I do get in contact with people. From time to time. When I feel like it. But they just won't know it, because they're never at home." I wasn't able to banish a faint trace of bitterness from my voice.
"Means, you're one of those rich kids whose parents don't ever know what they do, because most of the time they're on business trips?" he said, "Well, that really sucks. But at least you won't turn into a criminal, just to catch their attention, right? See, to me you don't make the impression of even wanting their attention.". He smiled at me knowingly, but I didn't reply to him. How came he had figured that out within one day? He hadn't been knowing me for more than twentyfour hours, and already understood me better than my parents did.
I looked at him. "Playing the psychologist now, are we?" I said, trying to cover up the awkwardness that was rising in me.
"Nah, I'm not. Whoa! How big is this fireplace?" he said, storming into the library and observing the huge sandstone fireplace. Well, he was obviously easily distracted.
We spent the rest of the tour in silence. He didn't ask me any more questions concerning me and my parents, and so I didn't have to get rude. About twenty minutes later, we arrived back at the kitchen. My parents were still in there, chatting quietly. As we entered the room, they sent us their most dazzling smiles, and I got ready for another attack on my sanity.
"My little sweethearts!" my mother began, and I let out a short snort. My mother was way smaller than Ricky and me, actually, she was the smallest person in the family. "Your Dad and I just had a great idea!" 'Oh no.' I thought, 'Whatever they have made up, I bet I won't like it.'. "What about the two of you going to our summer home, and Dad and I will follow, like, one week later?" my mother said, still smiling,. "And Ricky can invite some friends, if he likes, so it won't get boring."
I felt my face fall. One week with Ricky and probably some of his dumb teenage friends? No way I'd survive this without killing someone or at least making some one cry. Ricky, on the other hand, was beaming at my mother like I had never seen him beam before. "You mean, I can actually invite them to stay with me for one week?". He seemed to be completely over the moon. I couldn't help but snap at him: "Isn't that what she just said, genius?"
My father grinned at me, looking slightly impish. "I'm sure, Ean, that they won't annoy you all too much. I bet, Ricky hasn't seen his friends in a while and so they'll be busy with themselves. Ricky?" he said, catching the boy's attention. He gave him a sheet of paper. I could see that there was the schedule of a Greyhound bus station printed on it, one, that wasn't very far away from our summer home. "Listen, here's what you do. You call your friends, and get those of them who want to come to take a Greyhound bus to this station..." he pointed at the address on the paper, "Tell them, we'll order a mini bus to pick them up and drive them to our house. Try to make them arrive all together, so it will be easier to pick them up. But not more than ten people, okay? Good. Now go and call them."
Ricky stared at the sheet of paper, and then beamed at my parents for one more moment before whizzing out of the room. I could hear him start running in the corridor.
"What do you think you are doing, huh?" I snapped at my parents, "You promised me that I would get the house for that one week. Alone!"
"Actually, we didn't promise you anything, concerning that house. We only said, you'd maybe have to spend a week or two alone, because we'll be doing our anual business trip to Dubai." my father said calmly. "It won't kill you to have some people of your age around you. Plus, it will help Ricky to get over the extreme change in his life and to get used to having a normal family again. You still remember that he's an orphan, right?". My father looked very serious as he said so.
"Well, you didn't tell me anything about his past until now, so it's the first time I get to hear this. But I'm not stupid, okay? I know that children who live in an orphanage are most likely to be orphans." I hissed angrily.
"Ean!" my mother yelled and I noticed what I'd just said. But I was still fuming with anger about my spoiled holiday, and therefore had not been able to avoid being rude. 'Nah, Ean, don't overreact.' I mentally told myself. I didn't shout at people very often, because I found it rather primitive. 'It's only one week, and then the mob will be gone and your parents will be there to keep the boy busy with their stupid ideas.'. "Okay." I said, and my parents eyed me astonishedly, obviously having been waiting for another attack. "I'll take that boy to our summer home, and I'll even accept having those...kids there. But only for one week!". Saying so, I turned around and left the kitchen, heading for the library. I wanted to get some books I could take with me, so I'd be able to flee from Ricky's gang whenever possible.
When I walked past Ricky's room, the door swung open, barely missing me. "Keep your bloody eyes open, boy!" I snapped at him, but he just beamed at me.
"They can all come, Ean! That's so cool! Do you think June 10, around eleven a.m. will be okay?"
"Yeah..." I said slowly, "I think so. But then we'll have to leave tomorrow, so we can buy some food before they arrive." I said, but Ricky's smile turned into a serious expression suddenly.
"Uhm ... Ean, is it okay for you that my friends will be there?" he asked, and I looked at him in surprise. I wouldn't have thought that my wellfare bothered him at all.
"I'll be fine. As long as they don't annoy me." I said, "Now go and tell them stupid parents the date so they can order that mini bus, or whatever they have planned to do."
Ricky smiled at me, but, as usual, I didn't return the smile. "I want you to pack your things today, so tomorrow we can leave immediately after having breakfast. Got that?" I yelled after him, as he went off to talk to our parents. "Oh God." I mumbled to myself as I closed my door behind me some seconds later, "This is going to be fun..."
In the evening I tried to spend some time with my family, but it became nearly unbearable for me to stay in the same room as Ricky. He was extremely excited and wouldn't stop jiggling around and beaming whenever someone talked to him, so after awhile he simply got on my nerves, which was the main reason for my withdrawing from the livingroom and going straight to bed. Ricky didn't have a license yet, and so it was my job to drive all the way to the lake. The ride would be most likely to take some hours, which meant that I really needed to get some sleep that night, imagining a car accident to be a bigger holiday-spoiler than a bunch of teenagers.
The next morning my alarm clock woke me up at 6 a.m.. I got up immediately, brushed my teeth and put on some comfortable clothes. Then I went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and make some sandwiches as provisions. I found my father's credit card on the kitchen counter, a note lying next to it. Good morning Ean! We knew that you would be most likely to get up and leave very early, so we decided on saying goodbye on this way. Here's one of Dad's credit cards, so you can pay for food and other things you'll probabaly need. We hope you, Ricky, and his friends will have a wonderful time together, and we look forward to joining you soon. Love, Mom and Dad
PS.: Give Ricky a hug from Mom.
As if! I was definitely not going to hug him! But I was going to wake him up now. I went back up to the second floor, and cautiously knocked at his door. No response. Of course not. Anyways, I hadn't been expecting him to be up at twenty past six in the morning, so I just slipped into the room. Although the sun as already up in the sky, the insides of the room were all dark, for he slept with curtains closed. All I could clearly see in the darkness was the shape of a huge bag next to the bed in which Ricky was lying, deep asleep. At least I guessed so, for the only part of him that was visible was his messy hair. The rest was buried under his blankets.
I staggered towards the window and ripped the curtains open, yelling: "Rise and shine, sleepy head! It's time for breakfast!". I admit that I would have slapped myself for this waking-up method, but at least it worked. He groaned and turned around in his bed. "...five more minutes, Squid..." he mumbled.
"What? Are you calling me a squid? Get up before I go and get a bucket of cold water!" I said, pulling his blankets away from him.
"What the ... Ean? What are you doing in my room?" he stared at me, his hair sticking out in all directions.
"I am trying convince you to get up. Breakfast's waiting in the kitchen. Get dressed and take your bag with you when you come down." I commanded, and staggered out of his room, towards the kitchen. Ten minutes later I heard him drop the bag in front of the kitchen door, and then he came shuffling in, yawning at me widely.
"What time is it?" he asked, sitting down in front of a pile of toast slices with jam, and a cup of coffee.
"Six thirty."
"What?" he dropped the slice of toast he had just grabbed, and stared at me. "Are you trying to kill me? Why'd you wake me up at six thirty?"
"Because I don't want to drive in the full heat that will be out there around noon." I said, giving him the 'you're-such-an-idiot' look again. "Now eat your toast so we can go."
He did as I had told him and about fifteen minutes later we were sitting in my (beautiful!) car, driving down the narrow road that led to our house.
The ride went on in nearly complete silence. I concentrated on driving, and he slept most of the time, despite some occasions when he would grab one of the sandwiches and eat it. By half past eleven they were all gone, and hadn't had a single on e of them. 'Seems like his stomach doesn't care all too much about my wellfare...' I thought. Half an hour later we reached the small town that was very close to our summer home, and I drove onto the parking lot of the town's supermarket.
"How many of your friends did you invite?" I asked him. "I need to know how much food we have to buy.". He seemed to count them on a mental list, and finally he said: "Uhm... six. So all in all we'll be eight people."
"Oh my... never mind." I said, getting out of the car. Seven teenagers! I could barely stand spending the entire day only with my parents!
We left the supermarket one and a half hours later, struggling to push three(!) shopping carts that were filled with food (Ricky had convinced me to buy much more food than necessary, babbling some senseless stuff about hungry armpits ...), and stuff one needs for house-cleaning and washing clothes. All the things we had bought barely fit into the car, for it already contained our two huge bags.
Twenty minutes later, the car was parking in front of our summer home, and we were lugging our bags and the shopping into the house. I immediately started stowing the food away, while Ricky inspected the house. It wasn't even close to being as huge as our regular home, but still there was plenty of space.From the outside it looked like an import from Sweden, being covered with white and blue painted wood. On the inside, white and blue were the dominant colors as well. There were six bedrooms, each of them furnished for two people. Three had double beds, and the rest had two single beds, so all in all twelve people would be able to live in the house. There were six bedrooms, five bathrooms, a spacy kitchen, a dining room and a huge livingroom. Plus, there was the landing stage at the lake, whose shore was only about twentyfive meters from the house.
When I lugged my bag into one of the bedrooms with a double bed, I heard Ricky rummaging around noisily in the room next to mine, which also contained a double bed. Although silently cursing myself for not taking the other double bed-bedroom that was separated from Ricky's room by two single bed-bedrooms, I was too lazy and tired from driving half the day, to carry the heavy bag into the other one. So I unpacked my things and then collapsed on my bed, falling asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.
I woke up at the sound of Ricky's voice, whispering to me. "Ean? It's seven p.m.. You wanna eat somethin' ?" I opened my eyes to find the boy's face only inches away from mine. That didn't bother me too much, but then something occured to me:Seven p.m.? I jerked up all by sudden, startling Ricky who fell on his butt with a loud 'thud' and glimpsed at me. Then he grinned. "Yeh gotta be extremely hungry, jumping up like this and all."
I stared at him. "Why didn't you wake me up?" I asked, rearranging my dishevelled hair back into a tight ponytail.
"You looked so peaceful when you were sleeping." he said, making me glare at him in disbelief. But he continued speaking indifferently. "So I watched TV and now I have made somethin' for dinner." he finished, getting up, and walking towards the door. Indeed, there was the smell of toast, eggs and bacon, which seemed to be the only food he could cook without causing a catastrophe. The smell of the food made my stomach rumble, reminding me of the fact that it had been more than twelve hours since last I had eaten something. So I followed him to the kitchen and we had dinner.
"By the way..." he said as we were eating, "...Mom called when you were asleep." I rolled my eyes heavenwards. It was typical for my mother, thinking that she needed to call us and make sure everything was okay. "I told her that everything is fine and that she doesn't need to worry 'bout us. She wanted me to give you a hug from her, but I don't think you would have let me, would you?" he smirked.
"Very well spotted, genius." I said without batting an eyelid.
Later that evening there was a fight about the remote control. Ricky wanted to watch 'Spongebob', but I snatched the remote control from his hands, switching over to the newschannel, so I could watch the news. That made Ricky jump up up, trying to regain the power over the remote control, screaming things like 'No! You can't watch this!The government is going to take over the control over your brain!', and I told him not to be such a jerk and to calm down, for I had been watching the news at least three times a week for the last years, and never had something tryed to take over my brain. But that didn't convince him at all and finally he was able to grab the remote and switch back to Spongebob. I glared at him. "When you're finished with watching that bullshit..." I told him, trying to drown out Spongebob's screeches, "...you might eventually help me with putting clean sheets on the rest of the beds, so your friends will have a place to sleep!". That caught his attention. He switched off the TV set immediately, and got up.
"Okay, let's start." he said. I was amazed at how the bare thought of his friends was able to distract him from everything else.
It took us one hour to put sheets on all the beds. When we were finished, all I wanted was having a shower and getting straight back to bed. Ricky made the impression of also intending to do so, for he quickly returned to his bedroom. I switched off the lights in the livingroom and kitchen, grabbed a short, black nightgown with a red skull and bones picture on it, and chose one of the free bathrooms.
The next morning I awoke at the the somehow muffled sound of my alarm clock. I looked around in my bedroom, but the thing was nowhere to be found. Then, the beeping stopped abruptly and I heard Ricky's bed croak in the neighbouring room. The guy had stolen my alarm clock! I jumped out of bed and stormed into his room.
"Why did you steal the bloody thing, huh?" I said, snatching it from the nightstand. Ricky, who was about to open the curtains, gave me a tired look and yawned.
" 'cause I didn't want to oversleep and miss the arrival of my friends.". He yawned again. "Would you please make some coffee?" he asked, looking at me with pleading eyes. I just glared at him, and then turned around and went back to my room, putting the alarm clock back onto my nightstand. Then I got dressed and went down into the kitchen to do what Ricky had asked me for. I didn't do it because he had asked me, but because I needed some coffee myself. My father had been right when he said that I was not a morning person. Although I used to wake up between seven and eight in the morning without the help of the alarm clock, one couldn't say that I was to be called a human being before having had the first cup of coffee.
We were sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and eating pancakes with honey and jam, when my thoughts drifted back to Ricky's friends. "Are there any ... girls amongst the kids you invited?" I asked slowly.
Ricky chuckled. "Oh, no. But, you know, it's funny that you call 'em 'kids'."
"Why?" I asked, glaring at him over the rim of my cup.
" 'cause they're at our age. Some are even older than you." he said, chuckling again.
'Oh great.' I thought. 'One week with a bunch of teenage boys who'll behave as if they were all grown up. I think I'll have to go and buy a baseball bat.'
"Hey Ean, you're doing that glare again." Ricky said, "You know, the one that might eventually set the table on fire.". He smirked as I send him a furious glare. Then he looked at the clock on the wall. "Whoa! It's already ten! How long does it take the mini bus to get here from the bus station?"
"Dunno...maybe around ... fifteen minutes..." I mumbled into my coffee cup, at the same moment regretting having said anything at all, for the boy started jiggling around again.
"Will you stop that?" I groaned a little bit later, watching how he nearly dropped the empty dishes.
"Stop what?" he asked, quickly throwing another look at the watch. It had been only two minutes since he last did so.
"Stop acting like a jumpy rabbit and looking at the clock every other second. It's annoying me.". He didn't answer but went over into the livingroom. I swallowed the last sip of coffee and got up, too, putting my empty cup into the dishwasher. I didn't follow him into the livingroom. His nervousness was extremely annoying, and I felt like being alone for some time, so I went up into my bedroom, closed the curtains to prevent the hot summer sun from heating up my room, and started reading another book.
A bit over one hour later I heard Ricky yell from downstairs "Here they come! I can see the bus!", and then the front door slammed shut, as he had obviously stormed out of the house, towards the mini bus that came rolling up the driveway.
I let out a deep and heavy sigh. 'Heaps of fun.' I thought, 'Heaps of fun...'
A/N: Whoa...that's a long chapter... I tell you, it took me forever to write it! (groans) And I had so many other things to do, like, doing gardenwork for my mom and stuff. But now the guys from D-tent will be there! (cackling insanely) I already have got lots of interesting scenes buzzing around in my head, all that are waiting for being written down... (typing like mad).Oooooh...there will be very interesting scenes, indeed...
Did you notice the change in Ean's behaviour? While I wrote this chapter I imagined her her to having figured out that just letting things happen is sometimes better than fighting all the time. But still, she turns out to behave aggressive and bitchy from time to time. I think it suits her quite well, for she isn't a very friendly person.
And, as I already wrote, I tightened up the plot a bit (understatement of the year!), so it would be more interesting for you to read. I thought it would be boring if there were, like, six chapters, and nothing interesting happened.
Okay, so far, so good. I'd really love to receive some reviews from you folks! It always cheers me up! (smiles) And I promise, I'm trying to get the next chappy done quicklyer (urgh, what sort of word is that?)! It's weekend now and I'm finished with all the gardening stuff, so that should be possible. And remember, reviews keep me in a good mood... (hint hint)