The Sixth Lynch

Chapter One

"AH! Reagan! Why'd you just slap me with that shrimp?"

I smiled evilly to myself and shrugged. "Just to say I did. I can be all, 'Yeah, I slapped Ross Lynch with shrimp. Deal with it.'."

My family shook their heads, but they couldn't help the smiles that formed on their faces. "Honestly," started Riker, "where the heck did you come from?"

"She's adpoted," stated Ryland, nodding to himself as he shoved another spoon full of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

I shot him a glare. "We're twins, diptard."

"Maybe that's just a cover," he suggested. He smiled innocently at me.

This was just a casual Lynch family conversation. We lived for those awkward yet hilarious talks that happened every night. They were what made us seem to be... normal.

Here's a little bit about the Lynch family.

Ryland and I weren't allowed in the band. Why? We weren't "talented"? No, we got plently of that. We were "too young". I guess at the time we were. I mean, twelve isn't that young to be in a band. That was the excuse every time we asked though, so we never complained.

I'm the youngest Lynch, so I seem to be forgotten pretty easily. I mean, I'm Ryland's twin. Sure. That doesn't seem to make that big of a difference.

Rocky and I are pretty unique; we're the only ones with brown hair.

My brothers (all of them) are insane. Trust me. Rydel and I are the only girls, so it can get pretty hectic.

Ross shoved the rest of his food into his mouth before turning to me and Ryland. "You two," he started, swallowing before he continued. "You coming on set today?"

I nodded excitedly. "You don't even have to ask, hermano."

"Hermano?" whispered Ryland under his breath as he followed me to the kitchen. We placed our dishes in the sink and raced up the stairs to get our stuff.

"It's Spanish for 'brother', dorkwad."

"How would I know that?!"

"We learned it last year, dude..."

"Oh."

I shook my head as I grabbed my small bag I had packed in advance and trailed after Ross. I waved goodbye to Rocky, Rydel, and Riker as we went along. I slid into the back seat of the limo outside our house before putting on my head phones and staring out the window.

"EARTH TO REAGAN!" screamed Ryland in my ear as we neared the studio.

I tore the head phones from my head and glared at him. "I'm aware we're close, Ry. I'm not stupid."

He smiled evilly to himself and put his hands up in surrender. "Hey, just making sure."

We walked through the back entrance of the studio and trailed after Ross. We entered the wide room where they'd be rehersing for the live show the next day. We'd be going to that, too, as usual.

"REEEEAGAN." 

I spun around as the tall, red-headed figure came sprinting forward. "CAAAALUM!"

I laughed as he picked me up and spun me around. "MY CANADIAN FRIEND!"

"MY..." he paused. "AMERICAN FRIEND!"

I giggled. "You never answered my question," I started. "Are you related to Justin Bieber?"

Calum stood for a minute, pondering this question. "Yes," he stated boldly. "The answer is yes. He is my son."