Polymath

Chapter One

Chapter One

          I stared at myself in the mirror, wishing with all my tiny soul that my hair would magically be straight. The straightening iron I've only used once in my long twenty-two years lay across the sink. The plug was wrapped around my leg, not sure how that happened, and trailed across the floor to the outlet located inconveniently next to my prized mermaid bath.

          Hancock lived down the street with his twin brother, Jules, who was born the day after Han at twelve oh two. I felt sorry for him. Weren't twins supposed to be born on the same day? I wouldn't know. Both of my brothers were older than me, with wives and like six children each. I didn't know or particularly care.

          I went back to stare at myself, and grabbed at one of my curls. I pulled it down, down, down, and let go. It hit my cheek and hid itself back in my golden mane. Hancock used to call me 'little lion' when we were seven, even though I was almost a head taller than him. Oh, not anymore.

          "Hey, Ford!" Hancock called from the kitchen. I pulled my cheeks taunt with my under oxygenated fingers and huffed. I turned and tripped over the cord, my arms frozen at my side. My chin hit the carpet with a thump, and I grit my teeth. Hancock came running, but he wasn't alarmed. I tripped on a daily basis. Good freakin' morning to me.

          Hancock leaned and swiftly pulled me up, reaching down and untangling the cord from my ankle. Jules rounded the corner. I noticed their resemblance well. Two blonde heads, two pairs of glittery gray eyes, two sets of lanky legs. Hancock had a curved white scar on the blunt of his chin, Jules did not. "Are you okay, Ford?" Jules asked, hugging the door frame into the living room. I don't know why I had one, I lived by myself.

          "Ha, I'm good." I rubbed my chin and smiled at them.

Three-way breakfast was the thing at my house. There were eggs for Jules, bacon for Hancock, cereal, preferably Froot Loops, for me. The twins pulled chairs from my tiny back porch and sat with me at my saggy, beat up table. We were always quiet the first ten minutes or so. This was the time we got by ourselves. I knew Killian would come by later, but I was never exactly sure when. He hated Hancock with a passion, and didn't have a word to say about Jules. I hated him for it.

"What if we ate breakfast at our house?" Jules suggested his mouth full of eggs. I was always sure to make extras. Jules ate at least two cartons every week.

"Nah," Hancock shook his head and ripped another piece of bacon apart with his teeth. That boy loved his pig. "Ford will probably trip going down her stairs. And twice more coming up the street."

"Not unless I ride my bike," I replied. I snatched a piece of bacon off his plate and stuck it in between my teeth. It wiggled and broke. I inhaled the bit that was in my mouth and Hancock grabbed the other half off the table and ate it himself. "But I might trip over the kickstand."

Hancock and Jules both choked, covering their mouths with their hands as they laughed. I honestly didn't feel as if I was that funny, but it was a regular for me to shoot a little curse here and there when I tripped. This happened to be multiple times a day, every day.

"Yo, Redford! Open up!" Killian shouted as he banged on my wood door. I imagined splinters flying and his fist pounding through into my tiny house. I shook my head and froze for a second. Why was he here so early?

Hancock and Jules were quickly and quietly clearing the table, depositing their dishes into the sink. My cereal bowl was the only dish remaining. I heard the boys head up into my bedroom, their sanctuary when Killian made surprise appearances.

Staring down at my loops, I pictured myself as the little colored rings, half submerged in milk, not knowing what was coming next. Taking a deep breath, I called for Killian to come in.