"Quelindo, if you're still in the shower by the time I finish breakfast, I'm bringing out my flip flop!" Elena shouted out, her voice echoing around the house. Jules rubbed his eyes and shut off the water, letting the droplets of water run down his body. It was Saturday, a week before school, yet he's still being made to get up at six o'clock in the morning.
He sighed, stepping out of the shower of his room and drying himself with a towel. Walking over to the mirror Jules. He used to be very nervous about how he looked, especially at school. Kids were cruel and would point out what they thought were flaws, but as Jules got older he learned to accept it. His birthmark covered half his face, and as one kid, Billy, pointed out, "It looks like someone threw bleach at your face." His black thick curly hair, when wet, went to his upper lip.
But there was one thing that always bothered him no matter what was his eyes. They definitely weren't his mother's who had had dark brown eyes. Her eyes were so dark you couldn't see the pupils. Jules had never met his father and often wondered if it was his eyes he had stolen. He wanted to ask Elena but he was also scared to know the truth of his father. There wa-
"Ahora!"
"I'm coming!" Jules yelled back. He got dressed and headed out to the kitchen where his aunt was.
"Hey sorry I wa- Ow! Did you just throw a shoe at my head?!" He looked down at the flip flop, which now lay on the floor in front of him. He looked at his Tia who was looking quite smug about her impeccable aim.
Elena was his mother's older sister. It was weird though because they looked exactly alike. Same eyes, black wavy hair, caramel skin, and same strong arm. The only difference between them was the face shape.
She laughed and said, "You act like i haven't done it before. Now come eat your breakfast."
Jules sat down next to her to see a plate of toast and some scrambled eggs. And then hit him. He loved eggs, but she hated making them. That could only mean one thing.
"Elena, who are you making me meet tonight?" Jules asked, turning his head to look at her. "You know, 1 in 3 people has psychotic tendencies."
"First of all you made that up," she stated, not even looking up from the newspaper's crossword, "And the Peñes definitely do not have psychotic tendencies, but if you refuse to meet them I might."
As Jules sat there, saying nothing to her as he stared at her, unwilling to want to meet people. It wasn't the fact that Jules tended not to like most people, but the fact he could be so awkward at first. He wished he was more confident and charming, but when you wish upon a star nothing happens.
