Messo(?)

New Place

"Hello Kin, my name is Summer," Summer says.

It is the next day and I am in a meeting with my possible new "parents" that Baba had talked about yesterday. Summer has long black hair and pale skin, but somehow manages to have freckles all over her arms and face. She is also very tall and a little plump, but just a normal amount. She looks very familiar....

"I heard that you are sick, and I am very sorry about that," she says.

"It's ok. Don't worry 'bout what isn't your fault." I mumble.

"You look like a very nice lad," she compliments.

If you were wondering, I am quite handsome. Ok, maybe not, but I ain't ugly! I have messy brown hair that goes down most of my neck but doesn't come close to my shoulders. Fun fact: I have one brown eye on the right and one green eye on the left, and a cloud of freckles covering my nose. I am also pretty short (hate to admit it) and reach up to about 5"2 ft. I'm a little gangly, and a lot of girls in my class say I am thinner than they are. I also sport an Irish accent right now, but that changes every few months or so, when I decide to change it again (I'm planning on German next month) I also have acne all over my back, but you didn't hear anything...

"Thank you very much."

"Haha, manners too! Now, tell me a little about yourself," she leans in on her hands and looks me in the eye.

"I like to run, and play my trumpet. I also don't really like to read books unless they are classics like Catcher in the Rye and Slaughter House 5."

"Really? And are you Irish?"

"No. I just like to change my accent every now and then while I'm learning the language that goes with it."

"What languages do you know?"

"Fluently? Well, there's Chinese, English, French, and Russian. Russian is my first language."

"Wow. Are you from Russia then?"

"Yup. Before my parents died we moved here when I was around eight."

"That's very cool. I think you are a great kid, would you like to come and live with me?"

"You don't care about the expenses for treatment?"

"No, not at all," she assures me.

"Well, that's good. But there's one thing I need to ask of you."

"Shoot."

"Can you not tell anyone I'm sick?" I ask.

"If I can tell my son, then deal."

"Can you hold off on that? Just a few days, maybe a week."

"Done deal," she nods, standing up. "I'll go fill out the paperwork and you can go tell your friends goodbye."

She walks into Baba's office, and I get up and go to the dining hall, where everyone is probably eating lunch.

The dining hall is a big, long, white room filled with those bench-type tables and a little pick up station to get your food. I open one of the doors and sneak over to a mostly empty table. I wink at three little girls sitting together and stand up on the table and shout, "HEY!"

Needless to say, everyone shuts up (they love me).

"Today I, as I said I never would, am leaving you," I say, loud enough so everyone can hear me.

"Why?" Sierra asks.

If you can remember, she is the little girl from a little while ago. She is just 6 1/2 years old, and is super tiny with short red hair. I read her and every other kid here stories every night.

"I'm getting adopted!"

Cheers echo through the room. This is what happens every time someone leaves.

"Kin! We can leave now!" Summer yells from outside the door.

I bow and say, "Goodbye and goodnight! Adios amigos!"

I jump off the table and run after Summer, who had already made her way outside.

Breathing hard (being sick sucks), I say, "so, we going to your house now?"

"Yup, and don't worry. Your stuff is being taken to my house."

"Sweet!"

We walk up to a black Honda Civic, and I open the door and get into the passengers seat.

"Nice car," I say.

"I know."

She drives through the parking lot and then speeds off onto the interstate. We make small talk for maybe 30-ish minutes until we drive up to a house.

"Wow!" I exclaim.

The house is big and tan. It kinda just screams, "tan, tan, RED!" because the front door and garage doors are bright red. The front of the house juts out a little and, and is held up by white pillars. Under the pillars is a cement deck with a 3-step staircase to get up onto it. On the black tiled roof there is a chimney and two windows. There are also four windows on the top floor and two either side of the front door on the first floor. And the garage is shorter than the rest of the house, so one of the rooms has a door that steps down onto the flat roof of the garage.

"This is your new home. Come in, and meet Owen," Summer says as she gestures to the house.