Don't Play With Fire

Chapter 1-Not Gifted

I feel stupid. Really stupid waiting for my idiot brothers to get out of the bank. My Patience for them is thinning fast when I hear the sirens.

You would think, that my brothers (seventeen and up) who grew up in a family full of crime and criminals, would remember even the simplest rule of robbing a bank. Get everyone away from the desks.

I jump back into the van and then take off down the block just as the cops stop in front of the bank. They are on their own for getting out. I sigh and lean my head against the steering wheel of the huge white van, my friend, Kayt let me use. My brothers are truly, the dumbest of dumbasses.

"Harlem, Stop daydreaming about Taylor Lautner and open the damn doors!" Caleb yells and gives the back doors a good kick.

Automatically, I open the doors and Lucas swings open the driver's side door. There's a cigarette dangling from his lips, sweat is on his forehead. "Still daydreaming, Princess? Move."

I'm not of the seat yet when he starts to move in. Caleb sits in the passenger seat while Parker and I sit behind them. the sirens are still going off, loud and wild in my ears.

Lucas starts the engine, moving out of the spot I parked in and drives off in the opposite direction of the police. The area in front of the bank is surrounded by police cars, who are already out and ready to start shooting. They were smarter than I thought.

"We're not idiots, Har," Caleb says without looking at me. I guess he saw the look on my face from before. Lucas has his eyes on the road, watching everything that is going on around him while, Parker has a thick wade of cash in his hands.

I ignore Caleb and look out the window of course they weren't. Our parents taught them better than to be idiots. Of course.

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"Bags?" My father asks.

"Seventeen," Lucas replies.

"Any trouble?"

Caleb shakes his head, "in and out, real quick."

My mother crossed her legs and watches the TV. My dad and brothers are in the kitchen, trying to keep their voices low (too bad they suck at it).

"What did-" my dad starts.

"She only watched the car," Lucas reassures him. They're talking about me.

Mom puts a hand on my knee and squeezes. She did it out of pity, I told myself. Which is partly true. Dad doesn't trust me. It took a lot of convincing for him just to let me go to the bank (just to watch the stupid van).

It's because I'm a girl, I kept telling myself. But it's more than that, it's the fact that they were older, stronger, and all around better than I am.

"It has nothing to do with that, baby," my mom says softly. I grit my teeth and think about dead puppies. She laughs which only gets my cheeks to feel warm. Mom loves to meddle in our lives, and with her gift of being a Listener, it's even easier for her to do that.

"Yes it is," I protest. Because I know that it's true. "It's because I don't have a gift. It's because I'm not gifted."

She's silent for a while. Which tells me that I have the right answer. Their voices in the kitchen are too loud, a chorus of three different voices all talking, smirking, and laughing. Sometimes, I really do hate my family.

I hate the way they all look at me like I'm some sort of outsider (which I am). Lucas is a manipulator, Caleb's a transporter, Parker can speak and raise the dead with a quick thought, my mother is a Listener, and my father is a transformer. I shake my head as mom opens her mouth, ready to plead her case. I get up and open the front door, slamming it hard behind me. 

New story!! Hope you guys liked this :)

Okay, that's a picture of what Harlem kind of looks likes. She actually has wavy hair and deep green eyes but close enough right?

I'm only putting the maine for songs for this story.