The Powers of Love

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Before I tell you my story, I need to make it clear that I, Madeleine Brock, had absolutely no intention of falling in love.  Like ever.  Zero interest in romance.  Even the mere thought of spending the rest of my life with a soul mate made me want to vomit. 

I’d walk around school passing by couples making out, practically doing each other against the lockers, and wonder what in the world would make anybody want that.  I mean, what’s so great about kissing anyway?  It’s just lips touching, isn’t it?  Personally, my lips hurt if I suck a spaghetti noodle into my mouth for too long.  The thought of having them puckered like that for longer than a second had me shivering. 

My best friend, Sierra, went through boyfriends like she went through underwear; they got changed every day.  Whenever I asked her why she felt the need to always be sucking face, she’d say that it was just magical and that I really needed to try it.  That always confused me.  How could a little bit of lip touching be magical.  Harry Potter – that’s magical.  Watching a baby being born even though it’s disgusting – is borderline magical.  Kissing?  I just didn’t see it.

I guess you could say that my pessimistic point of view on love came from my parents getting a divorce when I was ten.  Dad got his mistress, now wife, pregnant and effectively ended his first marriage.  I now have a seven year old sister named Kara, who is a little brat, and two brothers; Kohl is five and Kai just turned two.  I love the boys tons; they look nothing like their mother.  Don’t get me wrong, I love Kara too, but she bothers me more than any sister should. 

I’ve also got two siblings who aren’t a product of my father’s infidelity.  Emma is two years younger than me at sixteen and Asher is a year older than me at nineteen. 

Emma is gorgeous like our mom with blonde hair and startling green eyes.  She loves wearing floral print dresses and vintage jewelry.  When she sings, I swear it’s like a Disney movie and birds sing along with her.  She’s petite, but not tiny.  Emma also happens to be the kindest, most polite person in the world.  It’s crazy how perfect she is.  I love her more than I can describe, despite our differences.

Asher is pretty much amazing too.  He also got mom’s blonde hair, but his eyes are a light hazel color instead of green.  In high school, he became captain of the varsity football team in his junior year.  When looking for colleges, he didn’t need to worry about tuition since he got a scholarship to every where he applied to.  On top of that, his grades came easily to him since he was blessed with a photographic memory.  He’s really one of those people who have it all.  Asher’s got friends who will stand by him no matter what he does, even if what he does is get his girlfriend pregnant senior year, thereby giving me a little niece named Stella.  That’s right, Asher is a daddy.  A great one too. 

Me?  I definitely have nothing interesting to tell you about myself.  I’m not necessarily a misfit in my family since everybody says I’m exactly like my Grandpa Jack when he was alive, but since he’s not alive any more, I have no way to judge that.  I’ve got bright red hair that looks almost orange in the sunlight, dark green eyes that turn gray whenever I’m upset, and skin that refuses to tan unless I get burned.  My grades aren’t spectacular, but I don’t exactly work hard to change that.  I’m not incredibly popular, but I’m not a loner.  I hold grudges even when I know I’m not being fair.  I try not to push my opinions onto others, but sometimes I just can’t stop myself from attempting to make people agree with me.  Nothing about me is spectacular.  I’m not gorgeous like Emma, but that’s not to say I’m ugly, and I’m not athletic or incredibly intelligent like Asher, not that I’m lazy or stupid… actually, I am pretty lazy.  I just fit, I guess.  I’m just an ordinary eighteen year old girl who has no real idea about what the future holds for her. 

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