If I Had a Taser, You'd Be On the Ground Spasming Right Now.

If I Had a Taser, You'd Be On the Ground Spasming Right Now. (2)

"It BURNS, Vana!"

"I know sweetie, but you're going to have to sit still for a little while longer. Paris, get the towel please."

"I am so so sorry, Momo, I have no idea what happened--"

"Chris, I thought I told you to run!" Gwen scolded.

"I'm not going to run." He said firmly. "She's not that scary."

"Just wait until I can see properly, Christian!" I screeched. "You will NOT be having kids in the future, I promise you that!"

"She sounds pretty serious, Chris," French said.

"Five bucks says that she makes good on her promise," Gavin whispered, just loud enough to let me hear him despite the water in my ears.

"Deal." French murmured. I heard the slap of palms as they shook.

"Who's side on you on anyways?" Chris whined to his little brother.

"The winning side."

"Whatever. I'm pretty sure she's going to go for a head injury anyways, rather than the crowned jewels," my older brother said confidently.

I was currently leaned over the tub in the bathroom of the hotel room that Ivana and I were sharing. The rest of my siblings lingered outside the door, watching me. I had gotten cappuccino in my eyes because I didn't have time to blink before I was hit in the face.

Ivana, who was helping me wash the drink out, put the towel over my face and hair and ordered, "Sit up."

I sat up slowly and she massaged my hair, then let me take the towel. "We're done." She declared.

"Thank you so much." I knocked some of the water from my ear, but my eyes were still a little cloudy. I stood up and wrapped the towel around my head, looking for him.

His almond brown eyes were wide and innocent, and he had slicked his usually spiky blue hair. It looked very weird.

"Mona Lisa Ophelia Styles." He said, getting down on one knee and folding his hands. "Will you please, please, please not hurt me?"

I looked at him for a moment, then decided. "You," I said slowly, "will get it when you least expect it."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God. Wait, what?"

I ignored him and stepped past into me and Ivana's room.

It was small, but comfy. There were two twin beds side by side, with a small table beside it. The floors were wooden; our luggage was in the small closet by the bathroom. We had been here in Paris for about two days and during that time we had done plenty of sight seeing. Gavin had to do the most though, because he had told his photography teacher where the wedding was going to be. He now had to take a picture of every major landmark that he saw. Gavin didn't mind though. The shutter-happy little fellow took a picture of everything. Like my books though, his camera had been taken away for today. French hid it some where.

French, being the oldest, was in charge of us. He was nineteen and attended the University of Florida, majoring in architecture. French was tall, with tanned skin and bright, mysterious green eyes. His hair was kept past his shoulders--he usually wore it in a ponytail. He was built because he played football through his high school years. His parents may have had some Italian blood. French was the first to be adopted by my mother.

Paris came next. She was petite, like me, and had short black hair that she kept straight. Her skin was a rich dark brown, almost identical to her eyes. She was very shy but when you really got on her nerves, a darker side of her came out. She was seventeen.