Numbers

Chapter One

Kavanaugh One's POV

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm clock sang through my bedroom at 6 a.m. I reached over lazily, slamming the button to turn the incessant noise off with a groan. The bright light streamed through my thin white curtains and shined straight into my eyes.

"Eugh." I sighed and flipped my hair over my face, but it tangled and got in my mouth. I pulled my long blonde hair into a messy bun and sat up off the white sheets of my bed.

Changing out of my blank white pajamas, I pulled on my school uniform, consisting of a navy blue blazer with a white collared shirt and a navy tie, and a pleated khaki skirt. . Slipping on a pair of white knee socks, I stalked into the bathroom I shared with my younger brother, Two. His toothpaste and various pairs of underwear lay scattered around the floor.

"TWO, COME GET YOUR DIRTY UNDERWEAR OUT OF THE BATHROOM!" I yelled at the room across the hallway. He walked out a moment later, rubbing his eyes in nothing but an old undershirt and a pair of boxers. He tiredly collected his underclothes and trudged back to his room.

I quickly applied a thin coat of mascara to my light eyelashes and pulled my hair out of its messy top-knot. Brushing it out a few times, I proceeded to braid it expertly onto my shoulder. Pleased with my appearance, I walked out of the bathroom and padded down to the kitchen.

"One, you're late again." my mother called.

"No I'm not, it's only 6:30, Mother." I answered unenthusiastically.

"Come, have breakfast before you leave for school." my father added, coming around the corner and handing me a breakfast container and a fork. I sighed dramatically while I peeled off the plastic lid and proceeded to shovel the tasteless protein supplement into my mouth.

"MOMMA!!!" Three called while waddling into the kitchen. His fat baby legs going as fast as they could.

"Honey, are you hungry?" Mother asked in her annoying baby voice. She picked up Three and rested him on her hip.

"Mother, you don't have to talk like that to him all the time." I protested.

"Oh hush, you don't remember me talking to you like this?" She asked, still baby talking.

"No." I responded flatly.

"Finish your meal and get to the transport stop. I don't want you late for class again." Mother nagged.

I nodded half heartedly and ran down the hall to put on my black Oxfords and grab my bag. It didn't contain much but my classwork tablet, a stylus, and the charger. Going to the front door I said my farewell to my family and started on my way to the transport stop.

I checked my communicator for the time: 6:42. Damn, I was almost late; the transport leaves at 6:45.