Life With The Twist Boys

2+2

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of new classes and unfamiliar faces. It was actually a relief to see the Walters’ rickety house when the truck pulled into the driveway after school.

“We’re home, Aunt Anne!” Luke shouted as soon as he walked through the door. “What’s for dinner?”

 
Javvad, Luke, and I had to step over a pile of boxes in the front hall. We were the only ones who actually left school at three o’clock. Harry had band practice; Zayn caught a bus to his job at a local auto-repair shop; Michael stayed in the music room; and Ashton never showed, which apparently was normal because we left after only a five-minute wait. I planned to join a few after-school clubs, but I decided it could wait until next week when, hopefully, I didn’t feel so weary.

 
“Hello to you too,” I heard Anne call from the kitchen. The smell of something amazing was drifting down the hall. We found her standing at the counter cutting open a huge pile of buns.

 
“Hell, yeah,” Luke said when he lifted the top of the slow cooker. “I love me some sloppy joe.”

 
“What’s sloppy joe?” Whatever it was, it sounded disgusting.

 
Anne, Luke, and Javvad all stared at me like I was speaking an alien language.

 
“You’re never had a sloppy joe before? What kind of crazy planet are you from?” Luke asked.

 
“Luke, be nice,” Anne scolded, pointing the serrated knife she was using to cut buns in Luke’s direction. “A sloppy joe is a ground-beef sandwich,” she explained to me. “We’re having them for dinner and you can try one then. The rest of your things arrived today, so in the meantime, why don’t you work on moving into your room? I cleared out all of the art supplies, and Javvad can help you bring the boxes up and unpack.”

 
“Why can’t Luke help?” Javvad asked.

“Because he’s going to help Calum with his math homework.”

 
“I am?”

 
“Would you rather carry boxes up to Louis’ room?”

“Right. Two plus two. I’m all over that shit,” Luke said and left the kitchen before Anne could change her mind.

 
“All right, you two,” Anne said, picking up another bun. “Why don’t you get started? I want those boxes out of the front hall by the time everyone else gets home.”

 
Twenty minutes of tense silence passed as we moved my things to my room. While we worked, we hurried by each other on the stairs, trying to avoid bumping into one another or making awkward eye contact. Finally, I collapsed on my bed feeling sore and sweaty as Javvad set the last box on the floor.

“Thanks a bunch for your help. This would have taken forever without you.”

 
Javvad nodded his head and quickly turned to leave without a word, but my room was now a maze of cardboard towers. His foot connected with one of the piles, and the box teetering on the top crashed to the floor. My Shakespeare collection spilled out, and Javvad dropped down to pick it up.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and scooped the books back into the box.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, jumping off my bed. “I can take care of it.” I spotted A Midsummer Night’s Dream and wanted to grab it for Harry. By knocking over the books, Javvad actually did me a favor because I wouldn’t have to search through all the boxes to find them. I plucked the play off the floor, and Javvad stopped to examine what was in his hands.

“Romeo and Juliet?” he asked, reading out the title. The rise in his voice revealed his surprise. “You like drama?”

 
“Of course, I’ve been attending all types of different performances since I was little. I have a personal soft spot for Shakespeare, but I also admire Shaw and Miller’s work.” When I responded, Javvad clamped his mouth shut as if he just realized that he had spoken to me.

“Oh, cool.” He shoved one last book back into the box and shot to his feet. “I’ll see you later.” He was out the door before I could mutter a good-bye.

 
Running my hand over the cover of my favorite play, I grinned to myself. My encounter with Javvad could have gone a little better, but at least now I knew we shared a similar interest. Maybe I would make more friends in the Twist house than I had originally thought. Apparently I just needed to tackle the boys one at time.

***

At dinner I tried my first sloppy joe ever, and I immediately understood the reason behind the name. It was impossible to keep the meat on the bun. It oozed out every time I took a bite and splattered against my plate. My fingers and face were disgusting by the time I finished. I thought it made more sense to put the slop in a bowl and dip the bun in, but the Walters seemed to enjoy diving in face-first.

When everyone was full, we all had to help clean up the table, but afterward we were allowed to do whatever we wanted. Calum and the little twins rushed to the living room and battled over the remote. Liam and James went to edit the footage they got of me eating my first sloppy joe. Ashton challenged Harry to a pickup game of hoops, while Luke and Michael disappeared into their rooms. The freedom felt strange. At boarding school I was used to a strict schedule of dinnertime, homework, and lights out at nine.

 
Trying to keep some normalcy in my life, I climbed the stairs toward my room to do schoolwork. Although I wasn’t assigned anything in particular, I knew I was behind in English. The class was already halfway through reading Moby Dick, which was thicker than any of the textbooks I’d received throughout the day. Five pages in, I shut the book in irritation and pulled out Alex’s copy of The Fellowship of the Ring.

 
Someone knocked on the door.

 
“Louis?” Zayn asked, poking his head inside. He hadn’t been at dinner, and judging by the Tony’s Auto Repair jumpsuit he was wearing with his name stitched onto the breast, he’d just gotten back from work.

“Mmm-hmm?” I sat up in bed. Glancing at my clock, I realized that two hours had vanished since I started reading.

“Everyone’s out in the backyard. We’re going to play some night games. You want in?” He was wearing a baseball cap backward to hide the fact that his bangs were plastered to his forehead and there was a smear of grease across his nose, but somehow just one glance at him made my pulse surge.

 
“What’s a night game?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

“Games you play outside in the dark. You know, like kick the can, cops and robbers, ghost in the graveyard…” Zayn trailed off as he waited for me to catch on.

 
“Sorry, but I’ve never heard of those.”
 

“What the heck did you do for fun when you were growing up?”
 

“I’ve been to my fair share of Broadway shows, and my family has memberships to most of the museums.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized my mistake. My family had memberships to most of the museums.

“Sounds awful,” Zayn said. “How about we show you what real fun looks like?”

As nice as it was that Zayn was inviting me to do something with the rest of the guys, I couldn’t bring myself to accept. The thought of hanging out with all the Twist boys was intimidating. Besides, thoughts of my family were now swirling around in my head, and I knew I would only be able to hold back the tears until Zayn left. I didn’t want him to see me crying.

 
“I’ve got some catching up to do in most of my classes. Maybe another time?”

“Come on, Louis. It’s not like your teachers expect you to know everything you’ve missed by tomorrow.”

 
Pulling my knees up to my chest, I blinked my eyes, trying to keep them from watering up and my feelings from spilling out. “Sorry, Zayn, but it’s been a long first day.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
Bye bye omelets
I'm wierd