Blissfully Ignorant

Two: Jerome

Two: Jerome

"Self possessed nincompoop."

There are two types of people in this world.

"Freaking idiot."

They are morning people, and non-morning people.

"I'm never talking to you again."

Three guesses as to which type of person Corina is.

"Ree," I chastise, following her into my kitchen, "if you sleep late on the first day of the summer holidays, you’re going to be a whiny baby for the rest of the day.”

Summer. The typical Arizona heat seems to fly up, just to emphasize my thoughts. Summer, summer, summer...

"Well couldn't you have woken me up without the aid of a bucket of cold water?" she asks in frustration, still drying her wet hair.

"I could've done that," I admit, "but then that would take the fun out of it."

"I bet it would have," she glowers, her black eyes flashing. This is why I find it hard to believe Corina can be even a little nervous in front of guys. This girl is the reincarnation of the devil! I know that look, and I know exactly what I'm going to need to defend myself.

A distraction.

"Hurry up, kids, you're gonna be late."

I have never felt so happy to see my father, walking into the kitchen with his graying hair and mismatched flip flops. I'm happy enough to actually hug him.

In fact, I do just that.

"Woah, woah, woah," my father laughs as I envelop him in a huge bear hug. "What's with all the affection?"

"Just showing my old man how much I love him," I say fondly, pulling back just in time to see Corina smirk. Immediately she settles back into her frown, although her eyes remain alight with amusement.

"Chicken," she mutters under her breath, turning to the fridge to pull out some juice.

"Who ya calling old, huh?" my father jests good naturedly, however I catch him sending a wink to Corina.

It’s unbelievable how well Corina gets along with my parents. It’s like she’s their child and not me. But I guess it’s to be expected, since she’s been around for about as long as I have.

In fact, I was actually born four minutes after her. That’s sort of how we knew each other.

It’s a long story.

“What are we gonna be late for, Uncle Kayn?” Corina asks, setting her towel down on the counter and hugging my dad too.

“Now, Corina’s hugs are welcome,” my dad jokes good-naturedly, fixing his brown eyes on me from over her shoulder, “You, my boy, stay away from me.”

I roll my eyes, sticking my tongue out at him before making my way to the fridge. If Corina and my dad are in the same room, they are capable of teasing me until I’m ready to dig a grave for myself and take a good long nap.

It takes years of practice to tolerate something like that.

Daddy dearest continues talking as I scavenge the fridge. “Today is my neice’s wedding and we’re going for it. It begins in an hour.”

“And I’m invited?” Corina asks dubiously. I turn around with a jar of jam in one hand and Nutella in the other, grinning at her unnecessary question.

“Are we in the mood for jam or Nutella?” I ask them raising both the jars and wiggling my eyebrows.

“Jam,” Corina’s answer is almost predictable. She follows a certain routine.