Moving in with the Metzingers

Chapter 6

"So," Rory began, tossing my keys on the kitchen counter and plopping himself down on a stool while I closed the door behind me. "I heard you might be moving to Seattle."

I turned to face him for a moment to reply, "Might," and opened the fridge to look for something to make for dinner.

"Hah!"

"What is so funny?" I asked,exasperated, pulling an open can of arbanzo beans out and walking over to the pantry for more.

"Like there's even a chance you're going to choose living in Colorado with your aunt over living in Seattle with moi!" He answered cockily, helping himself to a bag ofpotato chips that was left on the counter.

I grabbed a can of tomato sauce and another can of garbanzo beans and passed him on my way to the stove. "Cocky much? Why would you living in Seattle influence my desicion? If anything, it will sway me towards Colorado," I joke, taking out a pan.

"Please," he replied, and I knew he must have been raising his eyebrows. "There is no way in hell you want to live with that demon."

Rory isn't particularly fond of my aunt, and the feeling is neutral. When we were seven, Rory accidentally threw a frisbee in the wrong direction, and it smashed one of her car windows. They have shared a growing hatred ever sunce, and he continually makes efforts to annoy her.

"At least she understands how absolutely annoying you are," I retorted.

Rory, being Rory, used my insult to boost his ego.

"Oh that's right," he said, a huge cheesy grin plastering itself on his face. "Your little girl friends don't understand because they worship me."

I rolled my eyes and resumed cooking. I have no comeback; he was right. My idiot female friends, all of them-- Aria, Cammie, and even Lexa-- have major crushes on Rory. Whenever he comes to visit, they swarm him like a bunch of ants at a picnic. Cammie especially; she goes all googly-eyed and tongue-tied; her usual chatty self is replaced with a dumb blond who can't even form words. At least Lexa can sort of comprehend what a total flirt he is; even though she obviously likes him, she can listen to me rant about his obnoxiousness occasionally.

"'H-h-hi, Rory!' 'So good to see you, Rory!' 'How's Seattle, Rory?'" He continued, mimicking my friends, mostly Cammie.

"Hey! They're not that bad," I lie, avoiding his glance.

"Sure they aren't," he teased, leaving the stool and heading up the stairs to the second story.

Not wanting to let him go in my room (or any room in my house) alone, I left my pan next to the stove and followed him upstairs.

"What are you doing up here?" I question as I step into my room, where I find him looking at my wall. My wall is where I put everything-- posters, photographs, drawings, doodles, letters, sticky notes, various ripped-out magazine pages, scrawled quotes, and anything I deem worthy of the wall.

Assuming he will take a while to look at everything there, I hop onto my bed and stare up at the clouds through my skylight.

A minute later, my bed dips, and I don't have to look to know Rory has lied down beside me. He is holding a piece of paper, and I frown, because I don't likepeople removing things from my wall.

He holds it up so we can both look at it, and I see that it is a family photograph; one I took last summer, when we went camping. We are all at the beach near our campsite, clothed for swimming and soaking wet from being pulled out of the water so I could take the photo. My mom stands next to my dad, with her right arm around him (the other on Lanie's shoulder), and they are both smiling happily. Ara is sitting on my dad's shoulders with her hands on his head, caught on camera in the middle of a laugh. Lanie stands in front of my mom, on the right of the frame. She is wearing her favourite swimsuit; a black strapless bikini top with neon purple bottoms. Beneath the scowl at being forced to pose for a picture, you can tell she is happy to be there.