Two Ways to Spell Blake

{Prologue}

"Blayke, Atlanta we're leaving," my mom calls from down stairs.

 I race down the stairs to see my parents off, my cousin, Atlanta, trailing behind me. My parents travel for a living. They're gone for about six months and then they stay at home for six months. This trip they're traveling to Europe...and I think some of China. They work for Ultimate, a travel agency, and stay at hotels and eat food and critic it. 

We arrive downstairs and see tons of suitcases surrounding them. "How in the world are you going to get those on the plane?" I wonder.

My dad, who was counting the suitcases, looks up at me. "We aren't going on a plane," he says.

"So you're planning on walking to Europe?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

My dad rolls his eyes, most likely fed up with my sarcasm. "No. Ultimate has provided a private jet for us because of the long flight."

"Can I ride with my friends in it?" Atlanta asks at the same time I ask, "Can I drive it?"

"No and definitely not," my father shakes his head.

"Mommy, Daddy," Matthew screams as he runs from down the stairs and collides into my parents.

My parents teeter under the weight Matt, my brother, puts on them. "You're leaving us with him?" I motion to my brother, saying what I say every time they leave.

Every time, my mom responds with, "He is legally an adult."

Most of the time, I'll sigh and shake my head. But this time, I mutter, "Yes but that doesn't mean he acts like one."

"Hey," he points a finger at me, "I am 23 years old."

"Then why haven't you moved out yet," I retort, throwing him a flat look.

Matt starts walking towards me and I slowly back up. But not fast enough. He pulls me into a bear hug, cooing, "Because I love you."

I squirm in his grasp, looking at my parents and Atlanta for help. They all stand there watching us in amusement. "Let go of me," I struggle.

"Not until you say you love me too," Matt says.

"No!" I try wiggling out of his arms. 

He tightens his grip so I  kick him in his shin. "Ow!" he yells, releasing me.

"Love you, too," I smirk, crossing my arms over my waist. He glares at me as if he's going to hug me again but my father speaks up.

"Behave yourselves while we're gone," he says, looking at me and Matt with raised brows.

"Atlanta keep an eye on them," I hear my mother whisper.

My mouth falls open. I don't need to be kept an eye on. "I can take care of myself perfectly fine. I'm older than Atlanta. It's Matt I'm worried about." I look accusingly at Matt.

"We'll be fine, Mom," Matt says, subtly sticking his tongue out at me. My mother smiles but still has a worried look on her face.

"Come on, we've done this a gazillion times," Atlanta says. And she's right. We do this little dance every time my parents leave. Me and Matt bicker and they look at Atlanta like she's the responsible one. Then we assure them we'll be fine and they still look worried. What my parents don't know is we barely fight-that is Atlanta, Matt, and me. 

I mean, of course we fight, but it isn't normal fighting. We only really fight when my parents are here. 

Speaking of my parents, I turn my attention back to the scene at hand to see them nod. "Alright, we'll see you in six months," my mother says while her and my father walk around to hug each of us.