"Bailey, would you be an absolute darling and get your brother's shoes from upstairs?" My mother asked me, as she set the plates on the dining table. My brother was sitting down on the couch, his feet raised on the coffee table. I cleared my throat "Why can't he go up and get them himself?" I put the flowers in the glass vase at the center of the table. "He just got done with a game yesterday night. Carlos has to work extremely hard for football, just go do what I have asked you to do." My mother said, finally tying her blonde hair in a messy bun. I bit my bottom lip and walked out of the dining area. My brother's snarky smile was the last thing I saw before I went upstairs. 

The soft carpet squished under my bare white feet. I glanced at my room. My room used to be my sanctuary but ever since Mom and Dad got two beds and basically restructured my room, I've been trying to avoid it. We're hosting a foreign exchange student and to my luck, she gets to share a room with me. God, how I envy Carlos. He's the golden child, who does everything perfectly. He's older than me, of course. He plays football and still manages to get decent grades. I enter his room, it was clean and tidy as usual. Carlos doesn't know that I know his huge secret. It all started when I went searching for this book by his bookcase. I was looking around and when I pulled one of the books out, I heard a thud hit the floor. I looked and he had a whole stash of Playboy Magazines. I haven't told him that I know about it. I could potentially use it as b;ackmail. I got the nike air forces my brother was going to be wearing and went off to my room. I needed to make sure my outfit looked absolutely amazing. Even though I hated the thought of a stranger living in my home, I wanted her to have a good impression of us. But I wouldn't mind saying anything, if she was rude or disrespectful. I saw my yellow dress in the mirror.

It had small spaghetti traps and it went up to around my knees. I wore white flats. My brother was wearing a light yellow sweatshirt with jeans and some sneakers. I trailed downstairs, my brother was in the same position. I dropped the shoes down and sat next to him on the couch. "Try not to be so weird infront of the foreign exchange student, ok?" He whispered in my ear. My mother was busy in her room, she wanted to do her hair before the girl got her. "I'm never weird." I say, blankly. He chuckled "Just don't go off ranting about misogyny, and astrology and all that weird book stuff. No one wants to hear that. Just keep your mouth shut till she leaves." I raise my eyebrows "She's spending the whole entire school year here." I reply twiddling with my hands.  "Exactly, keep your mouth shut for the entire school year. Also, don't embarass me this year, it's so hard hearing that my sister is for the streets every day in the hallways. " This time he let out a loud laugh. My head sunk down to my lap, but then I remembered "Hey, I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you, I could easily tell Mom about those magazines you have poorly hidden behind your bookcase." I felt a snarky grin forming on my face. My brother went quiet, his jaw was locked and his eyes were set on the TV. I looked at the boring movie playing on the TV, but I was interuppted when I heard the loud knock on the door . . .  . 

My mom rushed out of her room, her blonde hair was curled at the ends. My mom had some black heels, with a yellow dress as well. My father was the one picking up the girl from the airport, but he had told us that there was traffic and the rain wasn't making anything better. The knock echoed on the door again. My mom clipped her earrings on, and me and my brother quickly went to the door, waiting on our Mom. We took deep breaths, "Be polite, and smile as much as possible. Don't say anything negative." My mom said with a stern look that quickly evaporated to a smile. My brother twisted the doorknob and standing in the door way was the girl.

Her hair was in beautiful braids, I see the black girls at school wear them. Her skin is a bold bronze. She has jeans and an oversized sweatshirt on. Her outfit was similiar to Carlo's outfit. She had two big suitcases and a duffel bag resting on her shoulder. She had multiple piercings on her ear. "Welcome, Blake!" My mother smiled at her. Her eyes were big and she bit her bottom lip, "Hey." 

"Come in, wouldn't want you to get wet by the rain." Carlos suggests, I could already tell he was looking her up and down. "I'll carry your suitcases to the room." I put on a fake smile. She walked inside and examined the house. She nodded at herself in approvement. "Alright, so Bailey will show you to the room. I'll let you get settled in, and then you may join us for some brunch." My mom told Blake. I grabbed one of her suitcases, and dragged it upstairs. Blake carried the rest upstairs as well. 

I walked into the room and I heard her take a deep breath. "We're sharing a room?" She asked. We both put the suitcases by my walk-in closet. "Yes we are. Do you have a problem with that?" I asked, quickly biting my tongue. I could hear my mother's words in the back of my head to be polite. "I just assumed I'd get my own room. Do you seriously listen to Whitney Houston?" Blake pointed to my Whitney Houston poster on the wall. I sat next to her on the bed. "Indeed, I do. I listen to rock n roll music as well. What's your favorite planet?" I asked. Blake sat criss-crossed apple sauce on the bed, while I sat by the pillow with my legs stretched out. Blake replied "I don't think I have one. Maybe Uranus, just because it has a funny name. Are we going to the same school?" I nodded. "The bed over there is yours. This bed has all my stuff animals." I laughed. She nodded, but we were soon interuptted by Carlo's presence standing in the door way, "It'd be appreciated if you came downstairs, Mom always makes the best chicken and waffles, by the way." Blake gave him a thumbs-up and got up from my bed. Blake turned to me "I'll unpack later on." We exited my room, when I finally remembered "Hey, where'd my dad go?" I asked her, as well both walked down the stairs.  "He said he had an important meeting and that he was sorry he couldn't stay. But he's coming later, I assume." Blake replied, turning into the dining area where Carlos and Mom waited in their seats.

Blake immidietely started putting waffles and chicken on her plate. She also put some fruit and some frech toast. I also began putting food on my plate. "What shall I call you?" Blake asked, staring dead at my mom's face. "Whatever you'd like. You can call me Paris, my first name. Or you can call me Mom if you're comfortable with that. Are you enjoying your food?" Mom asked. The corners of Blake's mouth was covered in syrup. Carlos was staring at Blake the whole entire time. "I love this frech toast. Also this chicken is amazingly seasoned, I'm kind of surprised." Blake laughed a bit. I thought more about what she said, "Did you say that because we're white?" I asked, my eyebrow was raied. Carlos eyes darted toward me, I could feel his foot kicking me in my knee. I didn't even want to look at my Mom, knowing the look she would be giving me. "I did say that because you're white, I don't see the problem with that." Blake took a bite of her toast. "I see a problem with that. You people are always crying and saying how y'all get sterotyped, meanwhile you sterotype us. It's pretty hyprocritical, in my opinion." I say, my eyes filled with anger. "Enough of this racial talk, how was your life back in Africa?" Carlos asked. I could see my Mom rubbing her temples, "I'm not from Africa, you rascist as*hole. I'm from London." Blake rolled her eyes. "Ok, so this is going quite awful. So let's all restart. What is your favorite color?" My mom asked Blake. "Purple." She answered.

"How old are you?" Blake asked Carlos. "I'm 17. I'm a senior, I play on the football team at our school. I love photography." I couldn't contain my laugh. He looked at me and kicked my knee again from under the table. "What's the name of our school?" Blake questioned. "Hillwood Public Highschool." I said, looking at her. "It's a terrible place with bugs and bullies. But don't worry as long as you stick with me, you'll be fine." I reassured her, eating my waffle. "I think I could handle a few bullies on my own." Blake says, taking the last bite of her food, and drinking some orange juice. Carlos chuckles "The only reason why people don't mess with you is because they think you're the weird girl who slept with a senior when you were a freshman. They also remember you as the wannabe popular girl. Also the girl who was getting her guts rearranged in the bathroom at hoco. Also the girl who had to get an abortion when she was a freshman, because she was dumb and let a dude go in without a condom. The list goes on and on, really." Blake started laughing with Carlos, "I think I need to go use the restroom." I gulped, leaving the dining area. My mom didn't even stand up for me. She just watched in amusement. I ran upstairs and went into the bathroom, slamming the door on my way in.

I slid my body to the floor and put my knees up to my chest. I thought about everyone in the house,  Carlos is truly a spawn of satan. My mom is definetely a pick-me girl, who doesn't care about her daughter. Blake is going to be a living nightmare. It's not like I like to do all those stuff with guys, I'm just tryihg to convince myelf that that is the way of life. A man and a woman. If I do the doo multiple times, my body will get used to it and will subconsiously reject females. Because being with a girl isn't normal, right? 

My dad is a hard-core homophobic. He hated everything that was out of the ordinary. I think he just has to deal with the fact that my mother isn't a christian. I also think he just likes her body and thinks she is good for his brand.  feel like I'm the disappointment child. Whenever me and my dad get into an argument, he always has to shove it in my face that I was an accidental child. I get it, I'm not wanted but you don't have to remind me every single second that I spend breathing. I was so deep in my thoughts I didn't notice the tears rolling down my cheek. I wiped them away and got up from the foor. I washed my face thorougly, and headed out the bathroom. I gulped as I saw Blake and Carlos sitting in his room. They both had a PS4 controller in their hands. I went into my room and plopped on my bed.

 I didn't care that my tears were staining my pillow or my mascara was clearly dripping down my face. I was tired.