Named After A Number

Chapter Three | I Kinda, Sorta Know Him.

My mom was more nervous than I was about Kennedy and her brother coming to live with us. As the next few days passed, she dragged me with her to the grocery store and stocked up on foods that she thought they might like. Then she would pull me along with her to other stores, picking up blankets, video games, new pillows, and even some stuffed animals.

Pretty soon, we had an abundance of stuff in our house to accommodate our guests. She had even bought a video game that I had asked for a few months ago, but she refused to get because it was "too violent". I thought that it was a little unfair, but I figured that since we now owned it, I would be able to play it sooner or later.

"I don't know what they'll like," Mom said, tossing a stuffed elephant into her cart, "It's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

Mom was always saying stuff like that. To me, it sounded like something a hoarder would say, but Mom had always managed to keep our house pretty neat and tidy, so I guess she was doing something right. Besides, she always had anything that we could possibly need. I could go up to her and ask for a can of Italian breadcrumbs, and I could almost guarantee that she would be able to open up a kitchen cabinet and hand me a can of Italian breadcrumbs right then and there.

When the day finally came that they would be moving in(or at least, coming over), my game room no longer looked like a game room, rather, it resembled a lofty bedroom, more well-put-together than my own room. I almost considered offering up my room and volunteering to sleep in the game room for the time being, but I decided against it, as just as I was about to ask, there was a knock on the front door, and Mom rushed to answer it. 

I have to admit, at this point, even I got a little bit nervous. Two kids that I barely know would be staying in the same house as me. To make it worse, I had caused an incident that injured one of them, and I'm pretty sure that she suspects me for it. I couldn't tell Mom about that part of it, though, or I'd be grounded quicker than I could ask for a can of Italian breadcrumbs.

With a sigh, I followed her into the entryway and waited as she answered the door. She grabbed the door knob, and then, with a second thought, released it, turned to me, and began to adjust my hair and clothes. I tried my best to swat away her hands, but she succeeded in straightening my jacket on my shoulders and pushing my hair out of my face. Finally, she brushed her own pale hair away from her face and straightened her posture before pulling the door open with a smile.

As Marla and her two kids entered our house, my breath caught in my throat at the sight of Kennedy and her brother. Individually, they were both beautiful, but standing together, side-by-side, they were extraordinary.

Kennedy, with her wild black hair curling around her head like a halo, and falling down her back like a waterfall of twists and frizzy coils, her green eyes standing out on her face, sparkling and intelligent. Her skin, smooth and undisturbed, marked by pale patches that made her look beautiful and unique. Her nails were painted a glossy purple color, chipped on the ends and her nails chewed to the quicks.

And Castor, her brother, who was taller and more broad-shouldered, was just as magnificent. His face was made up of sharp lines and smooth, curved surfaces, a straight nose, deep-set brown eyes, and high cheekbones. His hair was as frizzy and curly as Kennedy's, but his was cut shorter, shaved on the sides and longer on top, the curls falling neatly onto his forehead. A half-smile seemed to be permanently painted onto his face, a confident smirk that displayed no cockiness, only pleasantry and good-nature. He carried a suitcase in each hand--one was bright yellow, and the other a glittery purple that I assumed was Kennedy's.

They looked like they had jumped straight out of a teen magazine, one that would have teenage girls drooling at the sight of them. While I had been surveying the two, I hadn't been paying attention to what was going on around me, until I heard someone saying my name.

"Seven?"

Snapping my head to the side, I saw my mother looked at me, as though she had just asked me a question.

"Huh?" I said, feeling my cheeks turn hot with embarrassment.

"I asked if you knew Kennedy's brother from school." She repeated.

"Oh," I said, "I kinda, sorta know him. He's the quarterback on the football team, so the whole school knows him."

I heard Castor chuckle, a sharp exhale of air that barely sounded like any kind of laugh I've ever heard.

"I only know Seven based on his reputation. But I've never been one to believe rumors. I like to make my own judgements based on what I know for a fact." He said, extending his hand.

I could feel my heart beat in my chest as I reached out to shake his hand before returning my arm to my side.

Kennedy snorted, and I couldn't help but think of a piglet. It was an endearing trait; I knew that she tended to snort when she was laughing really hard, or if she was making jokes on her brother's behalf. I thought it was cute.

"Well, what I 'know for a fact' is that he's a pretty weird dude." She said, and her mother elbowed her in the arm.

"Kennedy, be nice." Marla said, "Faye, I can't thank you enough for this. Now, Kennedy, Castor, I'll be back in three weeks. You can behave yourselves until then, right?"

"We'll be fine, Mama," Castor assured her, "I'll watch after Kennedy. Go to Japan and get some work done."

Marla smiled at him, then pulled both of her kids in for a hug, kissing each of them on the cheek and then turning to give my mom a hug.

"I'll be back in three weeks. I love you!" She said as she head out the door. Castor and Kennedy waved to her as the door closed, and once she was gone, they turned back to me and my mom.

"So," Kennedy said, "Where will we be staying?"