Toaster Notes From My Best Friend the Dating-Optimist (A Christian Romance)

Chapter Three

I walk home after practice, more exhausted than I'd like to be on a Monday afternoon. I step in the door, walking up the stairs and depositing my backpack next to my bed.

I glance over at Emery's side of the room. She's napping on her bed. I grab a sticky note and a Sharpie off of the desk that we share, drawing a mustache on it. I stick it to her face and quickly leave, excited to see - or rather, hear - her reaction. My phone buzzes with a text.

Asia W - 5:25pm

Hey. Anton and I are trying to think of a place to go for dinner. Any suggestions?

Me - 5:26pm

The French place on 5th is really good. I think you'd like it.

Asia W - 5:29pm

Great! Thanks Ror!

I smile. I go down into the kitchen, opening the laptop on the table. Danny and I used to share a laptop, but he got a new one to use for university. I'm stuck sharing the old one with Emery. Danny paid for almost all of his new laptop using money that he'd saved up. I pitched in a good chunk towards the old one when we got it - so did Danny. Emery hasn't had to pitch in at all.

I pull up my blog, The Reluctant Seafooder. Seafooder isn't a word. I know. I skim my most recent blog post, the one about the French place on 5th. It was quite good. I think about going back there again. Maybe on the weekend. I start a new post.

The Reluctant Seafooder (the font is called 'Lobster'. It's a pun.)

May 24th   

SOCRATES'

Socrates' Seafood on March St. in Avery was quite the experience. Upon entrance to the establishment, I was met by cheerful and welcoming staff. Even though the place is quite old, it is kept up extremely well. You'd never know that the building is over thirty years old! I had amazing service. The food was great. I ordered cod rice balls (it's actually an appetizer, but whatever) and they got to the table within five minutes of the waiter taking my menu. They were piping hot, fresh out of the fryer. Let me tell you - they were amazing. Un-philosophical, sure, but AMAZING. My favourite dish in at least a month. If you take my word at any value - GO TO THIS PLACE.

Check you guys later,

Ashley

    Ashley is my pen name. My effort to remain anonymous on the internet. That and taking a whole bunch of other precautions that my brother set up for me when I first started this blog.

I rise from the table and go to the fridge, pulling out a cheese string. Old cheddar. The only way to eat a cheese string. I wonder who's job it is to make dinner tonight. Mine, Emery's, Danny's, Elizabeth's, Mom's, or Dad's. Probably Lizzie's.

    Before I can think about it any further, feet pound down the stairs. An angry, shrill voice calls my name. Emery. Whoops. I turn to leave - before Emery punches me, or screams until my ears bleed - and I run smack into my little brother Caden. At five, he has an uncontrollable mass of whitish-blonde curly hair that covers his ears and gets in his eyes. Eyes that are a nice brown - just like seven-tenths of the Oswald clan.

Two others - Dad and three year-old Eleanor - have green eyes and brownish hair. They look more like Asia than they do like me. The remaining family member is my sister Lizzie. She's thirteen and officially the oddball of the family. One of us had to look different from both of our parents.

Lizzie has blue eyes - azure, if you will - and a good amount of hair that's a darker brown than Dad and Eleanor's. Like a deeply stained hardwood. She's quite pretty, but she feels and looks out of place in our family. Especially in the odd year that we get family Christmas photos done. Us blondies always end up on one side of the picture. Dad and Ellie on the other. Lizzie smack in the middle.

Emery knocks into me. I go sprawling. Thankfully, Caden had the good sense to move when he saw her coming. I land hard on the linoleum floor, quickly pushing myself up onto my elbows.

"Come on! It was a joke, Em." I begin to rise. Emery places a foot in the middle of my back. Ooh. Classic power move. She pushes. I fall on my face.

"Ow. Thanks." I whine.

"What did you do to my face?" She screeches.

"Chill," I reply quickly. "It was just a sticky note." A shrieking noise comes out of my younger sister.

"Just a sticky note? Did you not care to remember that I have sensitive skin?" She whines. Wow. Was I this annoying when I was fifteen? I hope not.

"So you get a zit for a few days. So what?"

"So I have a date on Wednesday. A date Rory." I cringe inwardly. Her first date. Ever. Oops.

"Sorry Em. I'll help you fix your makeup so nobody can see this hypothetical zit if you want." She shrieks again, pushing down on my back. Then she's gone.

Ow. Emery's a soccer player. She has strong legs. Good for her. Very unfortunate for me. I'd probably be quite uncomfortable for the next bunch of days. I stand up and straighten. My back cracks. Crack crack crack. I moan, part of me wanting to go after my sister and yell at her for standing on my back, but the other part feeling bad for her because she has a date.

The 'feeling bad for my sister' part wins out, and I resign myself to going back upstairs and hoping that Emery doesn't scream at me again.

She doesn't. She's not in our room, which is helpful.

I sit down on my bed and pull out my homework.

-----------------------------

Hey!

If this is starting to seem a little slow - don't quit yet!

I promise things'll start to get more exciting pretty soon.

I have a history of rushing my writing, so I'm trying to learn to pace myself.

Bear with me!

P.S. - Don't forget to vote - and comment!

P.P.S. - Let me know who you think should play everyone! Rory? Asia? Emery? Maybe Caden?

EmCSquared2