Nora Stevenson

Chapter Six

"Eli! Slow down!" I scream as my brother speeds arrogantly along the crowded streets of San Francisco.

"Chill, Sis. It's fine!" My eyes bug out and I look pointedly at Liam as the engine revs again and again. "You know, you guys are welcome to stay at my place tonight if you want. The hotels in San Fran really suck, if you know what I mean."

Buildings upon buildings race by in a blur. "Sure," Liam says, speaking up for the first time in about ten minutes. "Can we swing by the Sunny Side Up Motel first? We left all our stuff there."

Eli acknowledges his request and takes a sharp turn, nearly crashing us into a garbage truck. "Hey, Liam, can you please tell my idiot brother to slow down? Maybe he'll listen to you."

Liam nods. "I've got this," he says. My friend raises his voice above the roar of traffic and the Corvette engine and shouts, "ELI! SLOW IT DOWN, MY FRIEND. WE'RE DYING BACK HERE!"

Eli gives a thumbs up and eases off the gas pedal and onto the brake. After much panic at my brother's horrendous driving skills, we arrive at the Sunny Side Up Motel. Eli's face contorts as he surveys the dumpy building and murky, unused swimming pool. "I am so sorry that you guys had to stay here," he says. "Gross."

I agree silently and Liam and I hop out of the car, telling Eli to wait just a couple of minutes while we pack our things. Liam digs the key to room twenty-three out of his pocket as we walk inside and nod to Mr. Randoff, the clerk at the front desk.

Taking a left and walking to the end of the hall, we steal a glance at each other in dismay before we unlock the door. It swings open and my head swims, dizzy from the nauseating stench. "Let's hurry up and get our stuff," I croak, dashing into the room while covering my nose.

We retrieve our items from various places such as the cabinets, bed, and floor, and skedaddle. Good riddance, I think, disgusted, as we pay Mr. Randoff and dash outside to meet Eli.

"Alright," Eli says as we climb in the car with relieved noses and full bags. "Let's go! Have you guys ever been to my place?" He revs the engine and pulls out of the parking lot.

"Nope," Liam and I answer in unison. This should be interesting.

"Wow," I say, speculating my brother's large but warm-looking home. "Fancy." Eli grins proudly as he unlocks the door to his abode, and Liam and I follow him inside, staring in awe at the grand foyer.

An ornate chandelier hangs high above us on the ceiling, and the foyer leads into a path to the kitchen at the back of the house, several doors branching off the sides of the hallway. To the left and right of the monstrous front room are the living room and dining room respectively. One thing strikes me in particular about my brother's home: every room is decorated differently. While the foyer is grand and magnificent, the living room is homey and comforting. Brown leather couches are placed in an angle in front of the unlit stone fireplace. On the other side of the spectrum, the dining room is adorned with paintings and flashy colors—art deco.

I stand, surveying the spectacular house, until Eli takes my hand and leads me down the hall. Pointing to the left and right several times, he names the rooms in order as we pass them. After sauntering through the beige hallway decorated with pictures of family and friends, we arrive at the back of the house, and, more importantly, the kitchen.

Eli's kitchen is indescribable. Detailed down to the last backsplash and overhead light, the kitchen is composed of seemingly unmatched pieces of equipment, counter, and decoration; but, somehow, it all fits together in beautiful harmony. "Wow," I mutter again, rendered almost speechless by the glory of my brother's almost-mansion.