This is a short...well it's not really a whole story yet, but I'm bored of it, so I probably won't write anymore on it. I posted it on facebook already, but I think it will be easier to find here.
"Two seconds!" We all know it's never two seconds, but that's what I said. "Let me finish this yogurt and then we'll be out the door."
Of course, in my rush some sloppy pink goop slipped off my spoon and onto my jacket. I gave my sister a pleading look. She nodded her head signaling that I had time to change.
I jumped over the cat and flew up the stairs. I knew my sister Ansley wanted to have been gone ten minutes ago, so I hurried for her sake. Personally, there is no way I could care less about impressing these people. I would probably never see great Uncle Corwyn and his daughter again, so what did I care. But that wasn't dear, sweet Ansley Olivia's style. Everywhere she went she looked perfect, acted perfect, was perfect. Being less than fifteen minutes early would put a huge damper on her image.
"Melissa!" My first name is Zoey, but my dad decided he wanted me to be called by my more proper middle name. Ansley tended to agree with him. As for me, I didn't find that there was anything proper about me. Why should my name be the exception?
I looked around the room and grabbed the first sweater I saw. This black turtle-neck was not the most comfortable, but there is much worse in my closet. Sheesh! Hand-me-downs.
When we were halfway between Akron and the middle of no where Ansley declared, "We're here." Well of course I had wanted to say that we're always here dummy, but Mother had warned me to be on my best behavior. Ansley didn't really like taking me with her to places. Apparently I frustrate her. Of course, I can understand how any twenty-four year-old can tie herself in knots when dealing with a fourteen year-old. Our brains just work too fast for them. But, I had promised that I would behave. Instead of my pointedly sarcastic remark I said, "Oh. What a charming little town," regarding the gas station, two cafes, four empty parking lots, and a few unlabeled buildings dabbled about on Main Street. When Uncle Corwyn said he was in the area, this is not at all what I had in mind. Especially not with me and Ansley being the only ones to face this strange beast, but Brendan's hockey team made it to the regional level and hockey is one sport which requires parent super-vision. Well, that's what dad said. I think he just wanted any excuse to get out of this. Corwyn wasn't even his uncle. Mom, on the other hand, tried to get off work, but there was no possible way her boss, fondly called "Tank," would let her off for a second weekend this month. So, it was me and Ansley facing this creature alone. Luckily for my sister and her big fat reputation we made it to Middle-of-Nowhere-ville twenty minutes early in spite of the delays I somewhat accidentally created.
Finding the restaurant called "Brigid's Italian" proved to be a challenge. First of all, who names an Italian restaurant a French name with an Irish spelling? And probably more importantly, it had to be one of the unlabeled buildings rather than the cafe with cheesy neon signs. Fortunately for us, Neon Sign Cafe employees were more than happy to point us in the right direction.
Ok. Like I learned from my fantasy games, step one to facing the unknown: break down a door. Or in this case just open it and hope that it doesn't creak so loudly that we have the whole four tables holding six people staring at us. Not a big deal, right?
Uh, wrong. I quickly looked inside the Plexiglas door, scanned the miniature doll-house style room. "Alright, I saw him. Can we just go now?"
Ansley was on her toes though. "Are you sure? Which one is he?"
Well I was concentrating on the cute little room, not the occupant's faces. As I stuttered out a plausible answer I was shoved into the door. Luckily it opened with little force, or I would have made one ugly print on the glass with my face.
Here we go. Step one.