Writing A Wrong (Write Stuff 2)

Practically everyone I knew was shoved into Mom and Dad's spacious living room, making it feel tight on every side. Any other time, I might have felt claustrophobic, but since I was familiar with all the people in the room, it was bearable.

Alec and I circulated around, stopping to chat with Mom and Dad and some of their friends first. Mom's friend and coworker, Trina, acted like I was some sort of celebrity, asking about the bus and all the cities I would be visiting. Some of her and Mom's excitement rubbed off on me as we discussed the museums and other landmarks I should visit. Tony dragged Alec away to help set up fireworks out back on the basketball court. Years ago, Dad and the guys poured the court behind the screened-in porch. Mom claimed he did it so he wouldn't have to mow the backyard, but in reality the guys spent countless hours there. Even I developed a pretty decent jump shot over the years. When they weren't playing basketball, my brothers would set up homemade skateboard ramps or in Riley's case, he used it to work on his street art.

The court didn't get much use now that all the guys no longer lived at home, but New Year's Eve fireworks were still a tradition.

Watching their retreating backs, I wondered what fruit they planned to blow up this time. Thankfully, watermelon wasn't in season like it was during the summer. I thought Mom was going to have a coronary when they blew up her watermelon centerpiece during the Fourth of July.

"I've always dreamed of going to Seattle," Trina said, dragging my attention back to the conversation.

"So have I," Mom agreed. "Maybe we can take a road trip to Forks," she added, winking at me. Mom and I got into the whole Twilight fandom together—reading the books, sitting through more Twilight marathons than I could count, and collecting all the memorabilia imaginable.

Truthfully, it was the Twilight series that sparked my interest in writing. Despite all the haters, no other book grabbed my attention like that one had at that time. It was the gateway to many other amazing books I probably would have never picked up.

"We can visit Forks High and La Push."

"And maybe Edward will climb all creepy-like through your window," Zachary chimed in, clutching his heart dramatically. "I hope he watches me sleep all night," he cooed, earning an elbow in the gut from me.

"Shouldn't you be outside with the guys getting ready to blow crap up?"

"It's not time yet. Besides, if I was outside I'd be missing out on who's the biggest pussy—Team Edward or Team Jacob." He batted his eyelashes at me.

Mom intervened before I could violently hurt him. "Do I need to get some soap, young man? You better check that language at the door."

He looked appropriately chastised for about half a second. "Okay, wait. Have you heard this one? What's the difference between Cedric Diggory and Edward Cullen?" He paused a moment for effect. "Voldemort stopped Cedric before he could sparkle."

"You're an ass."

"You gonna let her talk about your son like that?" Zachary asked, trying to look wounded as he smirked at me.

"You know, for someone who claims to dislike the series so much, you sure know an awful lot about it," Mom said, patting his head.

"It's because he secretly has a thing for Edward," I interjected.

Ashley joined us, catching the tail end of our conversation. "Babe, you never told me you swing from that tree. I always thought you seemed partial to spa

rkly things." She winked at me.

"He used to try on Mom's earrings when we were kids," I provided, tongue-in-cheek.

"That was for a school play," he said as we all laughed.

Ashley patted him on the arm. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, babe. Sparkly things make all our hearts go pitter-patter."

"Whatever. I'm going to go blow shit up," Zachary grumbled. "Sorry, Mom," he added as stalked away.

Ashley and I high-fived. "I'm so glad you're going to be a part of this family. We need some estrogen to balance all the testosterone in this house."

"Hey, what am I, chopped liver?" Mom asked, looking as if I had insulted her womanhood.

"Oh please. We all know you're not allowed to pick sides. Plus, it's common knowledge that Riley is your favorite since he's always sucking up."

Mom was hailed to the backyard before she could defend herself. Apparently someone knocked over the birdbath she had gotten for Christmas. Assuming my brothers had something to do with the accident, we could hear her threatening their lives as she made her way through the house.

Mom's birdbath turned out to be broken, the details of which were still under investigation. None of my brothers would fess up, and yet they all offered to replace it.

After a couple more hours of making my rounds to talk to everyone, and hearing over and over again how excited they were for me, it was nearly time for the big fireworks show to begin. My brothers liked to start at eleven forty-five, leaving the grand finale for the stroke of midnight. Each year the finale became more and more elaborate. I was actually surprised no one called the cops. Dad claimed the neighbors looked forward to the free show.

I'm sure he was right. After years of practice, my brothers could put together a fairly spectacular display. If they didn't burn the house down, or themselves for that matter. The backyard was already littered with charred apple chunks from Dad's tree in the backyard. Mom had warned him that he would regret planting that tree. Judging by the way he frowned at the apple guts splattered all over his gas grill, that day had come.