Me, Myself, and My Five Other Twins

Me, Myself, and My Five Other Twins [2] (Picture of Frankie)

I roll over in my bed, prolonging getting up. Today could possibly be the worst day of my life. Today is my first day of school.

All my life, I've been homeschooled by nannies and tutors my parents hired. For the past seventeen years, I was taught to read, write, speak, everything a person needs to know by my nanny Mélanie. The only problem with Mélanie teaching me all of this is the fact that Mélanie's first language is French. She speaks English, but not a lot. She really can only understand it. But, because my parents weren't around enough to make sure I was learning English, I instead learned French as my first language.

I had other tutors to teach me more specialized subjects, like math and sciences. But now, I'm being ripped away from my tutors and security of home and being forced into the cruel world of high school.

Why the sudden change? My parents were horrified when they found that I rarely spoke English to them, and when I did I had a faint French accent. They almost fired Mélanie, but I managed to convince them instead to send me to a public school.

Sighing, I throw off my covers and go into the bathroom. After a shower, I dress and go downstairs from breakfast. Mélanie is at the stove, humming to something on the radio. She turns when she hears me and laughs.

"Is that what you're wearing?" she asks, in French of course.

I look down at my button-up shirt and slacks. "Should I not wear this?"

"Dear, you're going to high school, not a private school. Dress more casually," she dishes out some eggs from a skillet.

"But...I don't really have anything else..."

She sighs, gives me a smile, and takes my arm. "Come. I will find you something to wear." She takes me back to my room and digs around in my closet, pulling out a pair of jeans I don't remember ever getting and black t-shirt I usually sleep in.

"Put these on and wear the shirt under the one you're wearing," she hands me clothes and pushes me towards the bathroom. I do so, changing into the jeans and slipping on the shirt. When I come out, she looks at me for a moment before pulling my tucked-in shirt from my jeans and undoing a few of the buttons at the top.

"Better," she nods to herself, "What are you wearing for shoes?"

My first instinct is to select a pair of dress shoes, a habit drilled into me by my parents. Instead, I take a pair of sneakers I usually wear to exercise.

Mélanie nods, and then says, "We will have to go shopping. You need more casual clothing."

I sigh, but follow her back to the kitchen for breakfast. This seems like a sign that today will not be good.

After finishing breakfast, I go to the garage to choose my vehicle. My parents have many, but I don't want something too flashy, so I pick a simple four-door. I wait for the gate to the estate to open before I pull out of the driveway.

The closer I get to the school, the more nervous I become. What if I don't make friends? What if someone tries to beat me up? My stomach drops as I see the entrance to the student parking lot. I pull into an empty spot and turn off the car, just sitting. I glance in the mirror and on instinct run my hands through my neat hair to make it scruffy. I see more guys walking around with messy hair, so I try to copy what they did. Why someone would want to walk around like they just got out of bed is beyond me.

Forcing myself to, I grab my messenger bag from the backseat and open the door. I get out and scan the parking lot. A few look at me, but I figure it's just because they've never seen me before and not because of something else.

The looks increase as I follows signs inside the school for the office. I quickly open the door and close it behind me, as if to lock myself away. I notice the secretary staring at me, so I walk up to her desk.

"Hello, my name is Williams McCarthy. I'm a new student." I try to smile.

She gives me a nod and does something on her computer. A few seconds later, the printer hums to life and spurts out some papers. She hands them to me. "These are your schedule, your locker and combination, and a map of the school."

I thank her and leave, flipping through the papers. I check my locker number and reference it to the map.  My face drops when I find it on the second floor of the school. Sighing, I head up the staircase.

I've never seen so many different looking people in my life. Sure, I occasionally go out, but I'm always with my parents and it's usually some fancy restaurant or party. I'm a hermit, I can admit it. But, it's not entirely my fault. My parents frown on most everything that teens do nowadays. They're prudes.

I find my locker and for a moment I'm not sure how to work the lock, but then I remember that I had one similar to this on my bike when I was kid and easily spin in the combination. It pops open and I'm surprised by the smell coming from inside.

"You'll get used to that," a voice says from next to me. It turn and am momentarily stunned. The male next to me is thin and petit with looks that lean to feminine, but what is shocking is his electric blue hair.

"The smell. The kid before you was expelled for keeping pets in his locker. I think it'll go away though."

"I-I'm sorry?" I stare at him. Pets in a locker?

"Yeah, he was a weirdo. So, what's your name? I haven't seen you around," he closes his locker and leans next to it.

"Oh," I offer my hand, "My name is William McCarthy. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He raises an eyebrow, but shakes me hand, "Frankie Mower. You're not from around here, are you?"

"Yes, I am. I've been homeschooled."

"I see," he says, "Okay, look, I'm just going to be blunt. Are you rich or something? Because you've got that air and the manners of a rich person."

I can feel myself blush. I'm such a girl. "Well, I mean, my family, we-...I guess so."

He looks at me for a second before grinning. "Well, at least you're not one of those cocky rich bastards from Willow Creek. Hurry up at your locker and I'll show you around."

I smile back at him, but it falls when I turn away. I live in Willow Creek.

"Ready?" Frankie asks.

I nod and hand him my schedule. He looks it over and grins. "Well, you lucked out. Every one of your classes has one of my siblings in it. They'll show you around. Well, except for Bernie. She might just try to get in your pants."

I stop abruptly. "My what?"

He looks at my shocked face and laughs. "You really don't get out much, do you?"

I shake my head.

"Get in your pants pretty much means have sex," Frankie smirks.

I blush again, damn it. "Y-Your sis-ster...?"

"Relax, I was kidding. She's just a flirt," Frankie laughs again, "Anyway, my siblings will help you around and you can eat lunch with us, too. I'll make sure there's a seat."

"Thank you, Frankie."

"No problem, dude," he stops at a door, "This is your first class. I believe my brother Arles is in this one. See you!"

He hands me back my schedule and leaves. I stare at the door, trying to summon the courage to open it.