The Art Of Sneezing

Chapter 1

  Pic of Chris at the side or top!

The drive to our new house is ridiculously long. Why my parents want to drive from North Maine to Northeast Texas confuses me more than math. And that's saying something.

    We pull up into the spacious yard of our new home. My parents are driving their own cars and I'm driving mine. We moved here for money and I'm not really sure if my parents even love each other anymore.

    Honestly, our family was perfect until I turned 13 and my dad got a little too close with my babysitter. Like, a lot too close. Mom was upset, but about a week later she got over it with one of Dad's colleagues at the law firm where he was working. They don't talk much anymore, but sometimes they're decent enough to ask me about my life.

    Around others, my parents pull such an amazing facade that we could be televised across the world as a model family.

    We actually kind of are. Jane Rivers is the author of the best-selling family book in 2015. It's all lies, though. She drags us along to book signings and we pretend to love each other for a couple of hours before we pack into the car and start yelling again.

     Brock Rivers is a well-known lawyer. He recently left his former firm to become part of a better one in Texas. Hence, the move.

     Riley Rivers (that's me) is . . . normal. Very normal.

     We all park and climb out of our separate vehicles. I take a deep breath, looking up at the relatively large house in front of us-

     -and promptly sneeze out my sour patch kid flavored gum. Damn, that was my last piece. I sneeze again and again and I can almost hear laughter at my expense.

    "Mom-" Achoo! "Don't they have, like, wild dogs in Texas? Wolves or something?" Achoo! "I'm never going to stop sneezing!"

    "Mouse, honey, you'll get used to it." She's typing away on her IPhone, probably locating the nearest Books-A-Million.

    I'll get used to it? Like, if you're around the things you're allergic to, then suddenly you won't be allergic to them anymore? Wow! How cool!

    "I swear-" Achoo! "I am going to sneeze that key out!"

    "That was years ago," Dad pipes up. We had our boxes previously shipped here, so we thankfully didn't have to carry any with us.

    I lock my dark blue jeep as we step up to the door. Dad pulls the key from his joined-at-his-hip brief case. The door swings open and I immediately run up the stairs to unpack my things and listen to Imagine Dragons.

    It's Sunday and tomorrow I'm joining a school in the middle of the year. Yee freaking haw!

    I unpack everything and glance around the large room. The large blue themed bed clashes agaist the purple walls and I immediately decide that the walls need to change. My dvd shelf is bare due to a recent event and I make a mental note to restock it.

   Taking the stairs down two at a time, I yell something incoherently at my parents and run out to my car, trying to stop my dog fur allergies from acting up anymore. How many wild dogs live here?

     With only three sneezes, I jump into my jeep and reverse onto the road. I forgot my phone, but who cares? Five Seconds of Summer blasts through the speakers as I try to locate the nearest hardware store.

 

 

"What can I get ya, cutie?" The teenage boy behind the paint counter says. He looks about my age - a senior - so maybe I'll see him at school. Chris, as his name tag so helpfully tells me, sends me a wink with the question.

     "I need some blue paint for my room." He gestures at the different color blues and I walk past him to study them. "Achoo!"

    "Bless you, you little kitten!"

    I giggle at his words. He obviously has a pet dog or something. "Actually, people call me Mouse because my sneezes sound like a little mouse. You must have a dog or something.  That's what I'm allergic to."

    Chris runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, you could say I have a dog."

    "Hmm . . . Aha! This one!" I grab the paper with a TARDIS blue color and hand it to the nice kid with a sneeze. "Damn."

    He chuckles. "I haven't seen you around. Are you new?" Chris starts adding things to the paint mixing thingy.

    "Yes. I just moved here from Maine."

     He whistles. "Man, that's a long drive. Do yall really not say 'yall' up there? Like, what do you say instead?"

      I giggle a little. "We say 'you guys', but some people say 'yall'. Some really weird people say 'yous guys'. I never understood the extra 's'."

    "That's so strange. So, will I see you at school then? Wolf High School?"

    Nodding, I say, "yeah. I'll be there tomorrow."

   "Tell ya what," Chris hands me the paint. "Find me or my girlfriend Maggie and we can chill at lunch. Yeah?"

    I nod and hand him my credit card. "Yeah. We'll . . . chill."

   When I get back at home, everything is quiet. I quickly check my watch. 8 o'clock. My parents are asleep.

    They have this weird schedule.  They go to bed at 8 and wake up at 8. I don't understand how they can sleep for twelve freaking hours, but oh well.

    I step quietly to my room and grab the paint, brushes, and gum I just bought at the store. Putting my phone on my favorite playlist, I jam out to some music and paint.

    Once my room has been TARDIS blue-d, I cook up some pasta for dinner, watch a re-run of Doctor Who, and fall asleep on the couch.

    That's going to be hell on my back tomorrow.