My Cousin in the Summer

Chapter 1

I always stay at my Grandparents' house for the summer. Ever since my parents got divorced seven years ago, I've spared them arguments over who, mom or dad, gets to keep me during the summer. I enjoy it actually, my grandma always lets me invite friends over and sometimes me and her just have some bonding time. Last summer we had gone to Burnet, Texas' County Area Fair, and the year before that we had stayed in Houston with my uncle and two cousins for a week.

This summer though, instead of arriving on the first day after school ended, I came to her house a week later. The reason was that my dad had planned a trip for me and him to go to California. I'd always wanted to go, and since my mom was abusing the custody rules, I couldn't visit my dad on the weekends for the past four months.

So, because of that, my dad made a trip just for me and him. Thinking my mom was angry because of it, was an understatment. She was livid. For some weird reason that she refuses to tell me, my mom does not want me to go on any trips with my dad.

That did not stop the trip to California at all. It was hilarious really, my dad came to get me at half past midnight and my mom yelled so loud, the devil would probably have had to cover his ears with a dozen human scalp ear muffs. (A/N: Grimm Tales reference by David Gidwitz)

Shockingly, she let us go without calling the police for 'kidnapping'. I'm pretty sure bribery was involved.

Anyway, now here I was, at my Grandparents' doorstep with my two suitcases. I rang the doorbell, humming 'It's a small world', as it was the first song that popped into my head. Not even a second later, my grandpa opened the door to greet me.

"Leaha! How good it is to see you," my grandpa exclaimed, giving me a huge hug.

"Hi Pa," I said, hugging him back, "how are you?"

"Good, good thank you. Now, Grammy is downstairs folding clothes and you can go put your suitcases in your room," he said, turning back to his rocking chair and sitting down.

I nodded and started to my room, which was towards the back of the house (which, might I add, is almost a replica of a Victorian Era mansion). Every single time I come over, I always dominate the left room. Always. Oddly, it makes me feel safe and comfortable, like nothing can enter and murder me basically.

Yet, when I got to my room, the door was closed and I heard muted voices coming out from under the small gap between the floor. I scowled and rolled my eyes, everybody knew that this was my room.

I huffed and turned the handle to open the door, getting ready to snap at whoever was in the room. The door squeaked when it opened and I faced whoever was in the room.

I felt my suitcase handle drop from my hand that didn't open the door and stared in shock at the three boys laying on the bed, staring at the small TV on the dresser.

"Oh my God."