The first week of work has finally passed, and the weekend is here, which means I can finally sleep in.
They call it vacation, but then they load you with a ton of work, you have to work because you're unlucky, you risk losing a lung after ten meters of walking due to the heat, and you dream of the sea because your parents prefer the mountains. And anyway, I'd stay whiter than a mozzarella. Long live albinism.
When I wake up, I notice it's only ten in the morning. Too early by my standards, but I was woken up by some screams, which I hope are my mom's, because if they were my dad's, they'd have had to lock his balls in a drawer to scream like that, and I hope for his sake that's not the case.
I get out of bed and put on my panda slippers, which look a bit like those giant silicone phone covers, and start heading down to the kitchen.
Unfortunately, there's a sock on one of the steps that I don't notice in time, and I slip on it and start falling down the stairs, rolling.
And then when I say I'm cursed, people tell me it's all in my head and that everyone is a bit unlucky sometimes.
Unlucky my ass, I need to call a real exorcist to drive away the bad luck. Otherwise, my head will spin three hundred sixty degrees.
As soon as I reach the bottom of the stairs, my parents look at me, astonished.
I smile and wave my hand in the air to greet them. "Good morning, folks."
I get back on my feet and go to sit in my usual chair, the one no one else can sit in except me. Like my usual spot on the couch.
Yes, people often ask me if I'm Sheldon Cooper's sister from "The Big Bang Theory."
My parents are smiling, happy about something unknown to me.
"You're about to have a baby," says my mom. Then she realizes what she said and corrects herself. "I mean, I'm about to have a baby. You're about to have a little brother. Or a little sister."
I momentarily ignore what she said and decide to give her a heart attack. "And how do you know I'm about to have a baby?" I laugh to myself.
My dad's eyes widen. "What?" he asks, visibly shocked.
I decide to keep teasing them a bit longer.
Yes, and then they'll die of a heart attack.
"I'm pregnant!" I exclaim.
My mom is confused. "Aren't you a bit too young?"
"And aren't you a bit too old?" I retort.
My dad gives me a disapproving look. "Your mother is only forty. I'm forty-two. You're just eighteen."
My mom starts fidgeting in her chair. "Okay, no panic, we can move to the A****n for a year so no one will find us and there's no risk of meeting anyone we know, and then after you give birth, we'll tell everyone they're twins and they're mine, so you can continue your life peacefully."
I smile. "And what if I'm ready to become a mother?"
Both my parents go pale.
My dad speaks up. "You're eighteen and you just fell down the stairs. I can't imagine what you'd do with a baby in your arms. That poor child would be doomed."
At that point, I burst out laughing. "Relax, I'm not pregnant, I was just kidding."
They both sigh in relief.
"Back to the main topic," my mom starts, "I'm pregnant!" and claps her hands happily.
"OMG, so you want to traumatize another innocent creature," I say theatrically. I place a hand on my forehead and pretend to faint.
My dad gives me a light smack on the head. "Maybe we'll finally have an intelligent child."
"Ouch, that hurts!" I exclaim.
Then I think of something and turn to my mom. "But didn't you have your period a week ago?" I ask, confused.
Now my dad turns to her, confused as well. "Yes, dear, it's impossible."
My mom gives an innocent smile. "Oh, well, yes, I didn't have my period but a craving for sweets, so I said I had it to scare you and make you run to the supermarket to stock up. Sorry, love."
There's a few minutes of silence as I ponder.
I'm going to be an older sister. Me, who at eighteen makes things fall, is cursed with bad luck, and falls down the stairs, am about to become an older sister, a role model for the baby who will come.
As Mason would say in Teen Wolf: intense.
I'm already scared for when mom and dad will ask me to babysit in the afternoon while they're at work, I imagine they'll make me change diapers, feed the baby, and put it to sleep.
Oh God, what a nightmare. The first months will be all crying and screaming, especially at night. I can't handle it. I'll stick a pacifier in its mouth and that's it. Maybe with a little sleeping pill on top.
Then it hits me and I suddenly raise my head. "You didn't conceive the baby while I was in my room, did you?!"
I'm afraid of the answer. Very afraid.
"Oh no, no, don't worry," my dad says.
My mom smiles. "You were in the shower."
"And we knew you'd take a long time," my dad continues, who soon won't be only mine.
"And it had been a while since we'd, you know, engaged in certain activities, if you know what I mean," winks my mom.
I make a disgusted face. "Oh God! At least tell me you didn't do it on the couch."
My mom gives me a look. "What do you take us for? We conceived the baby in our bedroom!" she exclaims, clearly indignant.
My dad gives a knowing smile. "We did it on the couch last week when you went to sleep at Carly's. And we also did it in the shower. And in the-"
I immediately interrupt him. "And stop! This conversation ends here!"
I get up from my chair, ready to leave. "I'll set this house on fire. That's a promise!" I shake my fist in the air.
I start heading up the stairs to return to my room.
"We also did it on the kitchen table, if you're interested!" My mom's shouts reach me loud and clear.
I'll never bathe in this house again. And I'll never eat in the kitchen again. And I'll never sit on the couch again. Goodbye Sheldon Cooper spots.
I might as well move somewhere else. Maybe Carly's house. Her parents love me anyway.
If there's one thing I love about Sunday lunch, it's my mom's lasagna. Every Sunday, like a damn tradition.Sure, it's delicious, and she cooks well, but after eating it every week, you eventually can't even look at it without losing your appetite.My mom seems to get high on cocaine and hallucinogens every Sunday.She has this obsession with inviting different relatives for lunch each time, and because of this, she's incredibly hyper. Today, she's even more so because she decided to invite all her siblings and my dad's siblings, and all four grandparents, to announce the news of the upcoming baby.Some lunches only happen at Christmas and Easter, and we're such a dysfunctional family that they usually end in disast
Within half an hour, things have gotten out of hand; we're all drunk except for my mom.The grandparents, to celebrate, gave alcohol to Jace and me. He's only slightly tipsy, while I'm completely gone after having a drinking contest with Grandpa Carl with beer and champagne shots.I have no idea what song is playing right now; I don't recognize it, but it's quite lively. Our living room looks like a freaking nightclub, and I've brought out my panda-shaped Bluetooth speakers to blast the music even louder.Grandma Maria approaches me. "Brianna, shall we do that nice butt move you young girls do?""You mean twerking?""Yes, exactly! We'll attract some nice guys!"
I need to mentally prepare myself to go back to work since it's Tuesday.Yesterday, Jace sent me all the videos he took, including the one where I was singing standing on the coffee table.Oh God, when I saw the video, I didn't know whether to cry because the song was beautiful or because I realized I will never be normal.My mom told me she told Paul the truth, that relatives came over and I got drunk.Thanks, Mom. If it weren't for the fact that I work to pay for the damages, I would have been fired already.When I arrive at the shop, I see that the door is already open. Evidently, they took precautions.
"Oh my God, it's so ugly!" I scream, hiding my face behind a pillow that I was holding against my stomach like a shield.What a brave person I am."It's obvious it's ugly. We're watching a horror movie, not a Disney cartoon."Along with me and Skyler, James and the chocolate bar, whose name I can't remember, have joined.My memory is pretty bad.I give James a disdainful look. "I know it's a horror movie. That's why I screamed when you walked into the room."Skyler laughs, while the chocolate bar raises an arm, inviting me to high-five.Like I'm going
"It's delicious. Can I have another slice?"Julie made a chocolate salami for dessert, and it's absolutely wonderful. I've already had two slices, and I'm determined to have a third.Maybe then I'll take a fourth, and maybe a fifth.Or I'll pay her to come over and make desserts at our house.Julie smiles at me, pleased. "Of course, Brianna." She cuts another slice and places it on my plate, and I immediately dig in.Connor watches me, amused. "It looks like you've never had chocolate salami before."I swallow the bite I was chewing. "Aside from ice cream and chocolate, my mom doesn't like sweets, so she never makes them. And my dad and I are hopeless in t
Today I have to babysit little Amanda.I started babysitting as a job when I was sixteen, so I could start saving some money.And yes, sometimes, well, rarely, I can act mature and responsible too. Even though the times I’ve actually been like that can be counted on one hand. But on the hand of someone who’s lost at least two fingers.I go to the kitchen to grab something to eat. Or to empty the cupboard. Depends on your perspective.I pull out a tub of ice cream from the freezer. Then I open the cupboard and grab a pack of paprika chips.Uh, but usually, chip bags are made up of eighty percent air, five percent broken and really broken chip crumbs, and finally only fifteen percent actual chips, which are always either too salty or have no salt at all.After my little reflection, I decide to take two packs of chips, not just one.In the end, it’ll be like I only ate one pack anyway.Then I grab a pack of cooki
I keep staring at my phone screen, open to a Google page, carefully reading through the steps to exorcise Amanda.Jesus, if you're real, please don't let me end up in Hell for traumatizing a little girl.In my defense, I'm doing a service to humanity.I lift my gaze toward my father. "Okay, according to this site, 'Bible Today'—what kind of name is that, anyway?—it says the poor possessed person should be tied up. Apparently, the evil spirit controlling their body—these are the exact words—tends to get violent at the sight of holy water, a cross, or a Bible."I look back at my dad, and we both turn simultaneously toward little Amanda, who’s smiling at us, completely clueless.Dad smiles. "Alright Amanda, we're going to play a game. How about we pretend to be Indians? Does that sound fun?"The little girl claps her hands and laughs.Dad is pleased with this reaction. "Good. You'll be our prisoner, so we&rsqu
Skyler: S.O.S. emergency! Come to my house right now, I need you.That’s the message I just received. After spending the afternoon at Skyler’s with her family, I exchanged numbers with her, James, and with the chocolate bar, also known as Connor.I haven’t had lunch because Amanda ended up telling my mom that it was Dad and I who broke her favorite vase. So, she’s started ignoring us, even when it comes to cooking lunch or dinner. She refuses to cook for us at all, and given the incidents that have happened in the past when Dad or I tried to make anything that involved fire or appliances, we both refuse to even enter the kitchen, let alone make ourselves a sandwich.As soon as Mom leaves to hang out with her friends, Dad and I raid the pantry.I quickly put on my shoes and bolt down the stairs, rushing to get to the front door as fast as possible. I fling the door open, shout to my parents that I’m l
December 3rdI wake up with James’s arm around my waist and his breath warm on my neck. Facing the windows, I immediately notice the snow falling outside. I smile, feeling the festive joy bubble inside me. Carefully, I move his arm off my waist and slip out from under the covers, instantly shivering. Trying not to make a sound, I grab one of his hoodies for warmth and quietly leave the room, shutting the door behind me. I yawn as I head downstairs to the kitchen, silently praying I don’t trip on the stairs—not this morning, at least.I prepare the pancake batter, and as I start cooking, I set the kettle and the coffee machine going. My plan is to serve breakfast in bed for James, though considering my clumsiness, I decide to take it up in small batches. When everything’s ready, I place a tray on James’s bedside table, followed by the plates of pancakes, and finally, the mugs of hot drinks. Once all is safely in pl
December 2nd“We need to buy decorations,” I say as I lie down next to James on the bed. “Especially for the yard.”My boyfriend looks at me, skeptical. “I’m a little scared of what you might pick out.”I sit up to grab the pillow behind me and toss it at his face. “Can you stop doubting me? I’m leaving you.”James throws the pillow back at me. “And can you stop breaking up
December 1st"Do you really want to host Christmas at our place?" James looks at me, skeptical."Why not? We've just finished furnishing the new house; it seems like a nice way to inaugurate it.""But it's a house with stairs," James protests. "And your grandparents are getting old now. Plus, you're incredibly unlucky."I roll my eyes. The first house we lived in together didn’t have any stairs—not even a single step at the entrance since it was a small apartment. Practically heaven for him. But then we wanted a little house, and now we’ve got porch steps and an internal staircase. Every time he has to go down, he prays. He’s so dramatic. He’s only fallen twice so far... and we’ve been fully moved in for just a week."The old house was too small to host both of our families. Here, everyone fits. And don’t worry about my grandparents; they’ll outlive us all, one after the other." I roll my eyes again. Alcohol hasn’t killed them; stairs certainly won’t."Brianna, aren’t you thinking abo
The next chapters are a Christmas novella set from December 1st to 25th. The events take place years after the conclusion of the main story.PLOT:James Reid never really believed in bad luck, yet he had to change his mind the moment Brianna Lester became part of his life. Everything that can be considered absurd or go wrong is just normal for Brianna. And yet, in December, everyone is a little kinder—but will bad luck follow suit? James and Brianna plan to celebrate Christmas with their families in their new home. He hopes for a Christmas miracle, while she’s already thinking about what to gift her bad luck. Will theirs be a miraculous Christmas or a Christmas of misfortune?
Five years later...I’m lying diagonally on the bed with my head resting on James's stomach, which keeps making strange noises. "James, honey, just so you know, if you're hungry, you can go down to the kitchen."My boyfriend makes a face. "But your parents are downstairs. It embarrasses me to go down and act like it’s my house."I prop myself up on my elbows and raise my torso to look James in the face. "Are you serious? We’ve been together for over seven years. Seven! You practically have residency here. You even have a group chat with my parents where you exchange embarrassing photos of me, and you still have the nerve to be embarrassed."James puts a hand on my face and pushes me back down onto his stomach. "These are trivial details, Brianna."In response, I lick his hand to make him remove it. "Do you want me to walk you downstairs while holding your hand too?" I tease.James grimaces. "No, be
“Happy Birthday, Love!”“Happy birthday, love!” James yells in my ear.I mumble irritably, turning over in bed and burying my face in the pillow.“Do you remember what day it is today?”I blindly move my left hand until I find his face. “Shh. Go back to sleep.” I then press my hand against his forehead to make him lie down.He stands up and comes to my side of the bed. “You need to get up.”I take the blankets and pull them up over my head. “I need to sleep.”James huffs. “You need to move your ass and get up.”I poke my head out from under the blankets and turn onto my left side to see him better. “I’m sorry for you, but I never learned how to twerk. I’m not as good as my grandmothers.”James stares at me without blinking.I stare back at him, waiting for a reaction.I shouldn’t have done that.
A year and a half later.I watch little Jeremy staring at me curiously while he has his fist in his mouth, drooling like a Saint Bernard. He’s lying on the changing table, waiting for me to put a clean diaper on him.How was it done again? The YouTube videos make it seem so easy...“Well, little one, what if I took you to church naked? You’re so small; kids get forgiven for everything.”“Do you really want to let him go around naked?” James leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. “You don’t remember how to put on a diaper, do you?”I give him a dirty look. “Don’t stare at me like that. It’s difficult, okay?”“He’s been home for months, and you still haven’t learned?”I throw a clean diaper at him. “Why don’t you do it?”James catches the diaper in midair and approac
JAMESI feel a foot come down on my backside rather unceremoniously.I groan in pain and try to move away, but as I turn, I fall off the bed.I snap my eyes open and sit up, massaging my cheek.I look at Brianna lying diagonally, taking up the entire bed.The passion for sumo hasn't faded.I hate waking up with her nearby because she always pushes me out of bed.Literally.I decide to take revenge.I go to Connor's room and grab one of those stadium horns, then I return to my room.I bring it close to Brianna's face and blow.She screams in fright, and I, not expecting that reaction, scream in fright too, and Mrs. Porter, my neighbor, screams in fright as well.Once we've all calmed down, Brianna looks at me in shock. "Let me get this straight, how many times did you fall off your high chair when you were little?"I give her a dirty look. "Only twice, unlike you."She n
I'm about to have a heart attack.My breathing is quick, my hands are shaking, I feel a trickle of sweat running down my forehead, and I'm sure my face is pale.Paler than usual, that is.James asked me out on a real date, and when I read the message, my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. The date is at his house—thank goodness at least one of us knows how to cook—and I have no idea how it’s going to go.But that's not why I'm anxious. When I got James's message, I was in the kitchen with my parents, and when they saw me smiling at the screen, they asked me what was going on.But now my only question is: why did I tell my mom that the date would be at his house?Now, after calling Julie and discussing our "relationship," she's convinced we’re going to end up rolling around in the sheets since we’ll have the house to ourselves all weekend.But we haven't even rea