White Teeth Teens

1. The New Kids

Mom is driving like an eighty-year-old, hunched over the steering wheel and clutching it so tightly that her fingers are turning white. It's as if she's trying to make the drive last as long as possible. After all, it's the last first day of school she'll ever drive us to. In a month, we'll hopefully pass our driving tests. Until then, I'm stuck in the back between Dean, who reeks of Old Spice, and Colin, who reeks of baby powder and poop. I have to hug my left elbow into my body to avoid bumping it against Colin's car seat.

Why did Mom and Dad have another baby? I ask myself for the hundred-and-twenty-second time. Isn't three enough?

Because of this new infant, we had to move into a bigger house. Dad always wanted to move to a quieter town, so maybe having Colin was just part of an elaborate plan to move us to Duncan Valley. Trust me, we raised Hell when we found out the news but it didn't change a thing.

My other brother, Logan, is sitting in front. He wakes up first every morning and stands by Mom's car just so he can call shotgun. It is totally wasted on him, though. He doesn't put his feet up on the dashboard or pick the radio station. He just scrolls through Reddit on his phone and ignores the rest of us. But Dean and I can't ignore Mom who is now glaring at us in the rearview mirror, waiting for a response.

"What?" I ask .

"I'm picking you and Logan up at three-thirty," she says.

Dean will be at soccer tryouts. The season started a week ago, but since we're new to the school, Dean has to try out on the drop-in day after most of the players have already been picked. He was the top scorer for varsity both freshman and sophomore year, and our last high school was triple the size of Duncan Valley High. I'm sure he will be picked for varsity the second the coach sees his footwork.

The thought brings a smile to my face. I'm proud of him, no matter how much of a tool he is.

"Mom, school gets out at two-thirty," I say.

"Yeah, Ror, I know," she mimics my tone. "The club fair is after school today. I want both of you to sign up for at least one club."

This is the first time I've seen Logan's eyes move from his phone. "Wait, what?"

"Fingers crossed for Harry Potter Club!" Dean sing-songs. He leans forward and flicks Logan's ear.

"I don't read that shit!" He swats at Dean's hand and misses. "It's GAME of THRONES!" He twists in his seat as Dean grabs his phone.

Dean looks at me, "What's his password? What's his password?"

Logan calls in for reinforcements. "MOM!"

"Jesus Christ, you two, will you stop acting like children!" Mom snarls. "And watch your language, Logan! If Colin's first word is 'shit,' you're gonna be deep in a whole lot of it."

I check on Colin out of the corner of my eye. He's somehow dead asleep, the pacifier teetering on his bottom lip. Dean rolls his eyes and passes Logan back his phone as he sticks out his tongue at me. I do the same.

Mom pulls her car up to the sidewalk in front of the double doors of our new school. There are gold and blue balloons tied to the railings and students holding up signs that say "WELCOME BACK!" and "SEN1OR5!"

My stomach twists. Being the new kid is going to seriously suck.

Two days ago, Dean was mumbling trademark one-liners to his girlfriend, Sarah, about how much he missed her and how school won't be anything without her by his side. Now he's practically breaking the door handle to get out of the car and I know it's not for the academics.

Logan just looks defeated. He battled Mom and Dad all summer about moving schools, as if he could handle the forty-minute commute to Hudson High.

"Have a great day," Mom says robotically. Her fingers hover over the door's unlock button.

"Mom, open the door please!" Dean grinds his teeth.

She exhales and unlocks the door.

Dean hops out, shouts goodbye, and power-walks a safe distance away from us before slowing down, adjusting his soccer bag over his shoulder, and sauntering toward the double doors. Logan slips out next and weaves through the crowd with his head studying the ground.

No one would know that Logan and Dean were brothers, let alone triplets. For one, Dean is obviously athletic, cocky, and ugh, somehow a "chick magnet." He's got short brown hair with highlighted tips like he's from the nineties. Then you have Logan, who's actually taller but seems shorter since he's always slouching. He has greasy hair that flops into his eyes and he's abnormally skinny, but you can't tell underneath his oversized graphic t-shirts.

And that leaves me, Rory. Some people claim I look more like Dean and others claim I lean towards Logan. I don't always slouch, but I don't stand-up straight either. My hair isn't greasy, it's shoulder length and pretty dry. I'm not chubby, but I'm not pencil thin. I couldn't be on the top of any stupid cheerleading pyramid—not that I'd want to.

"You okay?" Mom asks. She can always tell when I'm nervous.

I shrug.

"Don't worry. You've got your brothers."

She's right. One of the perks of being a triplet is that I never have to handle life alone.

I pat Mom on the shoulder, boop Colin's little button nose, and climb out of the car with a small glimmer of hope that this won't be a terrible day.

Mom doesn't pull out until I'm halfway to the double doors. My brothers are nowhere to be seen. When I get inside the building, I follow Mom's instructions and go straight ahead into the Main Office.

"You must be our last Myers," says the receptionist as I walk inside. She gives me the up and down look, like she doesn't believe I'm related to my brothers.

She hands me two pieces of paper. One is my schedule, and the other is a map. This school looks about a quarter the size of my last school and every wing is designated to a subject.

"Do you need someone to show you around?"

"I think I can figure it out," I say.

She snorts. "Hmph. That's what your brothers said." She then turns away back to the computer as if I'm no longer there.

"Thanks, then..." I say but she just grunts in response. I back away slowly and go back out into the front hall.