Chapter 1

 

My name is Noelle Erin Chappue. Chappue is a French name, but I’m more Irish than I am French. I’m still referred to as ‘that French girl.’ I like France better than Ireland anyway, so I don’t correct them.

  My life is boring. A typical eleven-year-old girl’s life. I’m going into fifth grade, and school starts in four days. I’m not as psyched about it anymore, but I still can hardly stand the hot summer days.

  I have blonde hair with natural highlights: gold, white (only a little), brown, black, and dark blonde and light blonde. All natural. And yes, I like spelling blonde with an ‘e.’ Then I have gray-blue eyes, the only color I could ask for. I wear glasses and braces, and still the most popular dude in class loves me. Sometimes I think I am kinda pretty. That feeling doesn’t last for long.

  My dad tells me my legs are long and muscular, thanks to basketball and track & field. My arms are finally developing muscles, which is a relief, ‘cause now I think I can challenge a boy to an arm wrestle match. My neck is long and you can see my collarbone clearly. You can see my ribs clearly, too.

  My legs are bruised, scabbed, and always has some kind of dirt on them. I hate showers, so I only take them every few days. I used to hardly ever take any, and got away with being dirty for a month! Then I thought how dirty I would be and how smelly my armpits are, and my mom also made me, so I started taking showers.

  I have no style. I don’t care. I just throw on whatever’s available. Yet, it ‘always looks good on me’ not matter what. That’s what my sister says. I do love ripped jeans and ripped tank tops over plain black t-shirts. I like those rebellious clothes, they’re so awesome. Right now I’m wearing a white t-shirt with a sun and flowers on it. It’s sorta shiny at places. My skirt is a blue plaid one. Do you think a white, pink, and orange t-shirt would go with a turquoise-blue plaid skirt? Not really. But my sisters say it’s cute on me.

  I think I’m boring you, so let me start on some other people; I have my mom Diane Chappue, my dad, Christopher Chappue, my oldest sister, Kathryn Chappue, and my next oldest, Nicolette Chappue. I’m the youngest, whoop-dee-doo. It’s not so great.

  I can’t wait for Nicolette to go to college. She’s only a sophomore in high school, and Kathryn’s a freshman in college. Well, Kathryn isn’t entirely a freshman yet. She starts in September 20th or something, I don’t know. So she’s been taking care of me this whole week. My mom works everyday of her life, except the weekends as an engineer up in Menlo Park area at SLAC Stanford. My dad’s a teacher and Archbishop Mitty High School, and Nicolette goes there for her ‘education,’ as my father put it. Kathryn used to go to Presentation, and now is starting her college at UC Santa Cruz. Just about an hour-and-a-half away from San Jose and I’m sure she isn’t happy about that.

  I forgot to tell you, my family lives in San Jose, California. I go to Saint Leo the Great School for my… ‘education.’ Hee, hee. San Jose is the city with the third highest population. It’s seven hours away from L.A., but I’m not sure how far away it is from San Diego.

  Anyways, since I’m only eleven, you’d expect me to only be allowed to stay at home alone for an hour, right? Well Kathryn left about an hour ago to her friend’s house, and I’m not supposed to tell Mom about her leaving me alone. She better be back by lunch time, ‘cause I don’t know how to heat up soup on the stove. I can take care of myself pretty well, but once I was stupid enough to touch the banana bread pan right after it came out of the oven. I knew I was going to drop it, so I set it down on the ground in the middle of the floor, and was dense enough to touch the side. OW! Uh-huh, ya think? Dad doesn’t like me using the oven very much any more.

  Yes, I made the banana bread myself. No, it was very easy. And still is. Dad got me two cans of delicious soup, beef barley and chicken noodle. I haven’t had either in a while.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the TV: “I DON’T BELIEVE IN THE DENTIST!” I groan and lower down the volume. The lady wasn’t actually yelling the line, it’s just Kathryn likes to have things on really loud. Music, TV, radio, et cetera, et cetera.

  Speaking of which, I love music. My favorite band is Secondhand Serenade, and my favorite artist is Avril Lavigne.

  Again, my thoughts are interrupted. The double-doors to my parents’ room opened and closed with a slam. There it is again. I check to see if someone’s in the house, and find nothing. It’s probably the wind. It is a windy afternoon today.

  It’s Thursday, August 21, 2008. I start school on the 25th. I’m very bored right now, and I’m not showing any of the Olympics. The only event I enjoy watching is gymnastics, and I get tired of it after a half-hour or an hour. I’m not sure if I’m watching Apparatus (whatever that is) or jump-roping. I’ll look it up later.

  I’m not like other kids. I like to be able to understand things other kids forget about. Sometimes I search online and take free math quizzes on long division and multiplication, and I reread my summer reading books, just so I’m ready for the reading test we have at the beginning of the year. I might have to write an essay on it, too, but that would be easy, ‘cause I’d be able to take it home and look in the book for answers.

  I enjoy school ‘cause of the boys. They’re all hilarious, and the girls are sweet. I hope we get a new girl, ‘cause I want to move on from my friends Amelia and Marissa. Amelia and I are the closest friends in the class. We both want to, well I know this sounds harsh but I can’t find any other words, get rid of Marissa. Shake her off our shoes, you know? Marissa is a backstabber, secret-telling, self-absorbed, jerk. I do not enjoy her company. She’s always bringing up the past when I hurt her feelings or something. Well, Marissa makes little dents as life goes on, and it all values up to a huge one. Some friend…

  If I can’t get rid of Marissa, then I’m gonna find a way to make friends with the new girl, if we get one. I hope Amelia will stay along and help, but she might not. She can be too nice, and I know it’s hard for her to try and tell someone whose been her friend since kindergarten, but Amelia gets annoyed by Marissa, too. Marissa copies Amelia’s every move, every drawing stroke, every decision, and Amelia can get fed up with it.

  Marissa stops for a day, then goes right back to it. Marissa also tells all of Amelia’s secrets. So Amelia doesn’t trust Marissa either. This whole thing is confusing, I know. So, Marissa worships Amelia, and shows it by annoying her, being untrustworthy, and doesn’t act like a friend to her.

  I don’t like sounding selfish and proud, so I try not to take any part of the conversation if Marissa and Amelia are mad at each other. Sometimes, when I do sound selfish and proud, I get disappointed in myself.

  I don’t have much else to say, so I guess I’ll tell you about what happens at nighttime. My parents and Nicolette go to bed around 10:00 PM, and I usually settle down for sleep around 1:00 AM. Late, I know, but I only get tired around then. When school starts, I get up around 6:00 AM, so I’m going to have to fall asleep around 10:00 or 11:00 PM. What do I do from 10:00 to 1:00? I read, watch videos on the computer, surf online, sit down by the window and let the breeze flow through my hair.

  Dad makes really good dinners. Since I’m so used to it, I don’t get excited about steak and lamb chops. Most people do, ‘cause my baby-sitter was always so surprised by the kind of dinners I tell her about. Dad makes this Italian spaghetti, with thin noodles, Japanese long beans, expensive bacon, egg and cheese for coating the noodles, and cut up little grilled onions. It’s my favorite dinner he makes.

  He made homemade macaroni and cheese three times, which always lasted for the whole week. Everything in the macaroni was exotic. Bacon imported from Italy, bread crumbs from France or something, the macaroni from somewhere in Europe, and the cheese is from Europe, too. That whole thing was a very European dish. Dad makes all-American dinners, too; white corn still on the cob, butter for the corn, delicious rib-eye steaks, and tomato salad which is sliced tomatoes bathed in red wine vinegar with garlic and salt and pepper sprinkled over it. It’s delicious. I also love artichokes. We used to have artichokes for dessert, taking off the leaf (or whatever you call it) and dipping it in butter sauce, then scraping off the flesh with our teeth. Mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm, GOOD! Hee, hee.

  Now that you know pretty much everything about me, let’s start on the next chapter with people talking.


Chapter 2

 

When I woke up this morning, it was like, I don’t know, 6:55 AM, and Dad and Nicolette were getting ready to leave.

  Nicolette almost lost her ride to school ‘cause she had to brush her teeth and Dad doesn’t like waiting. She is such a drama queen. I’m not afraid of her. All she can do is give me bruises and call me stupid and swear at me. Wow, so scary. It might sound scary to you, but I’m sorta used to it. The only person who punishes Nicolette for that stuff is Dad, who is a pushover with me. Hee, hee.

  I don’t know when Mom leaves, ‘cause by the time she does, I’m already asleep again. So, I fall asleep at 7:00 AM or something, then wake up at 10:30 AM. I don’t know when Kathryn wakes up, not that I care really, ‘cause I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself for a whole day as long as I have food that can be cooked in the microwave, or can be made without heating up needed.

  When I wake up, I automatically pull on my robe and go downstairs, whether it’s hot or not. I guess that routine sorta worked itself into my system. So, downstairs I open up the cupboard and look at the cereals available. Most of the time there’s Honey Nut Cheerios or Multi-Grain Cheerios. Those are both okay. If there’s Mini-Wheats then I try to just eat a banana. I love bananas…tee, hee.

  Anyways, moving on. After that I go upstairs, watch TV or read. I try not to go online ‘cause I know I shouldn’t be on all day, and I hate lying to Mom when she asks if I’m on the computer all day. I just recently finishing reading a book called Haters. Um, I don’t think it was made for pre-teens, ‘cause it was in Nicolette’s bookshelf, and it has swear words and inappropriate scenes in it, but Dad says I’m a mature eleven-year-old. I’m not entirely sure that’s good though…

  Haters was a good book, that’s what I’ll say. It’s cool. I liked these Japanese twins Kerani and Keoni. They were funny. Umm, I just noticed Kathryn isn’t home yet, and it’s 1:05 PM. I’m gonna call her.

 

Please Stand By

Okay, Kathryn’s coming home now. Yay, I get my soup! I think I’ll have chicken noodle first. Wow, I’m boring. Well, I warned you.

  I said I have a typical eleven-year-old’s life. I’m in love with a kid named Scott, who has a twin named Daniel. I have one best friend named Amelia. I hate the guy who loves me, who is Jack if you’re wondering. See? Very typical and boring. I guess I’m interesting ‘cause I’ve practically traveled to all the countries in Europe. Ireland, France, Germany, Spain, Italy, and England. I know there’s more, but those are the main ones everyone knows about. Is Iceland in Europe? Yeah, I don’t know either.

  I’ve traveled ‘cause of Dad. His brother and my uncle is a pilot on Delta Airlines, so we get huge discounts and we go traveling in Europe and South America every summer. Next time, I wanna visit Iceland. Ooh, or Finland! Hah, yeah, let’s hope.

  My house is a two-story house with several little attics. One down in the garage, and another in the laundry room upstairs. I know there are more, but I don’t know where they are. I have my own room, and it’s the biggest out of my sisters. Odd, huh? I have the biggest, Nicolette has the medium size, and Kathryn has the smallest. I’d be more than happy to move into Nicolette’s room. It’s really nice and where her bed is you can see through the window. I don’t know I just love her room. Maybe we can move next summer.

  My parents have a huge room. A queen-size bed, a desk with all of Dad’s teacher stuff, two bathrooms, one with a Jacuzzi tub, a shower, three mirrors, and two sinks, one for each of them, and the other one with a toilet, a magazine rack, and a trash can. Very small. Mom has her own hamper and dresser, and they both share a big walk-in closet.

  Nicolette has a nice room with a twin-size bed, three kinds of dressers, a closet with lots of space, a small book shelf, a couch, a desk, and a toy-box. Well, Nicolette calls it a trunk, but it’s filled with stuffed animals and binders. Weird? Yes.

  Kathryn has a queen-sized bed right smack in the middle of her room with a fluffy comforter and awesome pillows. Her white dresser is huge, it’s taller than me. On top it has jewelry boxes with hunks of gold chains hanging out of the side and fake roses sprinkled over everything. She has two candle holders which never have been lit, and incense burners. Kathryn has a big closet with lots of clothes and shoes. She has an easel to paint with and lots of watercolor pencil drawings on it. She also has a desk with money and papers and old college apps scatter over it. CDs and books are under it. I’m not sure why, but when I’m writing it down, Kathryn’s room sounds great, but when you really see it, its small and there’s a very small amount of ground you can see. Right now you probably can’t see any of the floor ‘cause of clothes and binders et cetera, et cetera.

  My room is nice. It has a huge book shelf, one dresser with four drawers, and then three more built in with my bed. I have a tiny desk that I don’t sit in anymore, ‘cause I can barely fit in it, a toy-box made of yellow-heart and purple-heart wood, a closet with dresses and coats and scarves, and shelves with beanie-babies, a special music box, a Winnie-the-Pooh coin saver, and lots of other knick-knacks. I have a basket full of old dresses from Mom and Halloween costumes, and a small horse stable with horses. The walls are covered with pictures of different kind of horses, drawings from Amelia (she’s very good), and two huge pictures of flowers; a Birds of Paradise, and another one I don’t know what it’s called.

  Sounds nice? It is. But I really like Nicolette’s room better. I didn’t go into detail with hers, but oh well. I still like it.

  There’s Kathryn. I’m gonna go have lunch. Catch you later!