My Bae from Maine

Chapter 3

"Cassidy, wake up, we're in Maine," my mother tapped my shoulder.

I opened my eyes. I thought this was a dream and did not expect to awake in the airport on my father's back.

"What, you couldn't find a bucket?" I smiled at my mom, "This is where we'll live?"

I sign read Portland, Maine.

It was going to be hard not to write my address in Sacramento, California on papers.

Portland was a little like Sacramento in some ways. They both had tall buildings, maybe not as big as back home's, but still big buildings.

"This is the house," to my surprise, the house was pretty decent, not an ancient house you'd expect an ancient relative to live in.

It was white, tall, and stood four stories high. It was also modern looking, which surprised me.

My mom turned the key in the lock until the door opened.

"Okay, take your shoes off here. Cassie, your bedroom's the third biggest."

"Out of how many bedrooms?" I asked, trying to stay polite.

"Six bedrooms in all. You'll all have your own room." My dad said.

"OMG," Violet yelled, "Finally my own room! Now I won't have to deal with all her immature unicorns and ponies everywhere."

Peyton stomped her feet, "My figurines aren't immature! Grown ups own figurines, but most don't own Ninja Action Figures!"

Violet stomped her feet, "Ninjas are WAY more mature than unicorns!"

Aaron jumped up and down, chanting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

My mother stopped the fussing, and I made my way up to the second floor.

I opened all the doors, four bedrooms in all and two bathrooms. Then up to the next floor, which stood two bedrooms and two bathrooms.

Then back down the stairs, to meet my grandma.

"Hello, dear," my grandma said, lifting her wrinkled arms for a hug, "I haven't seen you in forever. How old are you now, three?"

I looked at her, then cleared my throat, "Actually, I turned thirteen last-"

"You're thirteen! Wow, guess I really haven't seen you in a while."

I nodded, and sat down on a brown chair that was beside the couch, where everyone was reuniting.

"And the twins, Purple and Pigten." She smiled wide. I held back my laughter.

"Haha! You're name is Purple!" Peyton yelled.

"At least my name's not 'Pigten!'" She laughed, Peyton's face grew red.

"Their names," my mom said, "Are Violet," she pointed to Violet, "And Peyton. They are both eleven, almost twelve years old now."

My grandmother laughed, "Oh, sorry girls. I'm your grandma. And who is this?" She pointed to Aaron.

"I'm Aaron. I was born in Sacramento, California, a decade ago."

She smiled, "I am also your grandma. Anyways, I picked out some bedrooms for all of you. Violet, I painted your room a lovely shade of violet, and Peyton, yours is pink with white polka dots."

She looked at Aaron, "Yours has a race car on the wall, and the wall is painted blue, and yours, Cassidy, is a lime green."

I smiled, but I was actually disappointed. Green is one of the colors I truly disliked, with orange.

I marched up the stairs to my green room and let down the cases filled with my stuff. I put my own blue comforters and sheets on the bed and hung up a picture of my family on the wall, and lied on the bed.

This was going to be a long, green night.