Cupid Hates Me ✔

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The rest of the exams went fairly well in my opinion.

I could tell Physics wouldn't be too good though. The questions were easy but if only I had paid more attention in class then I could've done better. Chemistry was very easy. I was expecting an eighty percent. I rocked Literature and Psychology. Those two exams were the best.

So, exams were over, and now I was facing a one and a half month winter vacation.

Thank God the school gave such a long winter vacation. It was getting colder and colder each day. We would all freeze at this rate.

However, after a week of it, I realised that winter vacation was probably not my thing.

While Penelope went to France with her parents and Michelle was visiting her grandparents, I was stuck babysitting my wonderful nine-year-old sister and her equally wonderful nine-year-old friends. I could be reading a book or painting something instead of being stuck with these shrieking brats. But no, my lovely sister had to have a little get-together with her little friends, and my parents had to go out and leave me with these little monsters.

They jumped, sang tuneless rhymes and messed up the living room. I simply gave my sister, Sasha, a 'you-better-clean-this-up-cuz-I'm-not' look and went back to flicking through channels on the TV.

"Ooh! Let's watch Hannah Montana!" screamed one of the girls.

I managed to just squeeze out of the way as all of the girls jumped onto the couch at once as Hannah Montana started singing, "You get the best of both worlds…"

I grimaced and went back to my room. Hannah Montana seriously got on my nerves. Kids thought that saying 'Oh, sweet niblets!' all the time was cool. Sure, it was cute at first, but saying it twenty-four seven was just plain annoying.

I picked up my phone but put it down on my table again. It was still early for Jake to be up yet. Penelope was unreachable and I had talked to Michelle just yesterday and she was probably busy now.

The doorbell rang. I ran downstairs, hearing the brats squeal at a kissing scene in Hannah Montana as I made my way. Jeez, what were kids watching these days? What happened to good ol' Tom and Jerry? Seriously.

I opened the door to reveal my mum. She stepped inside, shrugging off her coat.

"How're the kids?" she asked.

"Fantastic," I mumbled.

She rolled her eyes at my tone, peeking inside the living room before going to the kitchen with me following her. She bustled around with pots and pans to make pizza.

"Your father's patients are coming to have dinner tonight," said my mum as she kneaded the dough.

"Dad's patients?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mum nodded. "Yes. Your dad's been their family doctor for a long time now, so he thought it'd be nice to have dinner with them."

I shrugged. "All right," I said. "It's not like I have anything better to do anyway," I added grimly.

Mum sighed. "It's your fault you're wallowing in idleness. You could easily pick up something to do. Perhaps even -"

"Anything but homework, Mum. Ugh," I groaned as I plopped down on the kitchen stool and popped a small piece of capcicum into my mouth.

"Good, you've read my mind. Now go and do some schoolwork instead of finishing up the capcicum."

I stuck my tongue at her back childishly before hobbling out of the kitchen.

"Rebecca, I saw that." I heard my mother say in what I hoped was an amused voice.

I cursed as I made my way to my room. Mothers seriously had eyes on the back of their heads didn't they?

7 pm found me in my room, chilling to music blasting from the small speakers of my laptop and waiting for a certain someone online. I had my head in my hands, clicking on random songs to download them. Yawning, I glanced at my room, making a mental note to tidy up sometime.

My room wasn't too messy. I mean, you wouldn't see clothes on the floor, but my table was incredibly cluttered. Books, nail polish (black of course), a comb, an empty coffee cup and tons more stuff somehow managed to take up all the space. The walls were of a baby pink colour adorned by two oil paintings of mine. Pink curtains covered large windows and beside them, a door lead to a balcony which I rarely spent time at. The pink sofa was draped with my clothes and school bag, but other than that and the table (and sometimes my bed), I liked to think my room wasn't too bad. Sure, it was too girly for me, I mean I preferred to have black and red walls, but that would make the room get hot in the summer, so I chose pink instead. Michelle always commented on how pink didn't suit me at all. She thought I was more Goth, much to my disagreement. Just because I liked black a lot and listened to Metal and Rock music, it didn't make me Goth…did it?

These were my thoughts as I stared in utter boredom at my laptop monitor. Groaning, I got up and decided to get ready for the dinner. I chose a simple casual outfit – black jeans and a baby-blue full-sleeved t-shirt. After I was done waging war on my hair (just to put it into a ponytail) I went downstairs.

The brats had long gone after lunch, Mum was preparing dinner, Dad had gone to personally pick up our guests and Sasha was glued to the TV screen watching Wizards of Waverly Place. Selena Gomez was her no. 1 star, and even though I felt like watching TV, I decided not to bother her for she would most likely tear my hair.

"Rebecca, get the door," said my mother when the doorbell rang.

Smoothing down my top, I went to the door. My dad walked in first, followed by a middle-aged man and woman. The man had an aristocratic face with a strong, defined jaw and dark brown hair and grey eyes. He was around the same height as my father, which meant he was six feet tall. The woman was around my height, with straight black hair and equally dark eyes. She must've been gorgeous when she was young, but even now she had a certain beauty about her that I immediately admired.

However, there was something about them that was familiar. The woman's eyes and hair, the man's facial structure…I felt like I had seen them somewhere before.

My questions were soon answered when another person stepped inside the house. He was just a few inches taller than me, with his trademark goatee, sleek black hair and dark eyes that always seemed to sparkle with mischievousness. Especially now, when he saw the look on my face.

"George, Hallie," I heard my father say to the man and woman, "this is my daughter Rebecca…and sweetie, this is the Adams family."