(inserts awesome title to get ya'll to read)

[rawrz .]

Chapter 2

Charolette, I hated that name. I often wonder why my mother chose to name me Charolette. And with eleven brothers and sisters with actual cool names, how she got around to picking Charolette. I'm not even the youngest! We've got a little baby boy named Skip, and a five year old brat named Quinn. Oh, you don't believe how ordinary and dumb my name is? Well, I'll start at the beginning.
The first daughter was named Shae, then there was Bonnie, again a girl. Kipp was next in line, then Ewin, Wyatt and Jesse, all boys. Dallas and Cooper, me Charolette, I was next, then of course Quinn and Skip. Can you belive that? All those eleven kids, and I had to be the normal one with the normal name that nothing happens to! Well, I guess that's fine because I am the only normal one in this family. Well except for dad, that is.
If you take any "normal" day for my family, you've got a whole lot of crazy going on and only a little bit of organization. The only reason why is because most of us have lived with these people for over ten years, so of course you get used to it.
I'm always the last one up, waking right when my alarm clock wants me to, no earlier. While the rest of them wake up right when the sun hits their eyes and somehow wakes them up. I go downstairs, just like always and it's already like a circus. Shae's calling her boyfriend about some fight they had the other night, Bonnie's doing her nails. The baby's crying as loud as it can to where it's really hurting my ears. Quinn's trying to get Mom to pay attention to some sort of drawing she did that looks like a jacked up meatball, while Jesse and Wyatt play paper football and scarf those pancakes into their mouth. Kipp and Ewin try to calm Dallas and Cooper down from a fist fight their having, and just like always I make my way through the mess, past the dog, dodging the paper footballs and getting milk and cereal out before it's too late and Shae comes running by crying.
There you go, believe it or not all of that happens in that small little "kitchen" we have. And then just like always, Bonnie and Kipp go off to their college classes, while the rest of us pile into the bus that takes us to the highschool, well besides Shae who's just living there because she can't find a job yet. The bus driver looks at us with some version of an evil eye, which I guess is okay because I'm the only girl and of course he hates our family because what my brothers do. Just like always, I sit down next to my best friend in the whole world, Zane.
Zane, the scrawny one sitting in the back, on the seat just above the wheel with his backpack placed beside him to save me a spot. Zane, the one with the red streaks in his hair and holes on his lips where snakebites used to live. Zane, the one I've known and trusted since kindergarten and is absoultly positively nothing like me.
"Hey Choco," Choco was the pet name he gave me, which I go by at school, at home, everywhere. Except my mom refuses to call me that.
"I've told you, I gave you the name Charolette for a reason,"
I'd always roll my eyes and say, "What does my great grandmother have to do with you picking a name for me?"
She'd shy off from that topic and say her bread was burning or something like that. My mom, she cooks, a lot, and bread is just one of her many home-made products we get.
"Okay, so I've got this idea," Zane says, excitedly.
I roll my eyes and laugh, "Not another one, look Zane, you can't just go on believing that one day you're going to write a book, it's never going to happen. Not if you don't start making good grades and actually have time to, and the money," I said.
Zane shook his head, "No no, I will, alright. Just you wait and see, this time it's going to be a ghost story, yup, and it'll h-"
I cut him off by pressing my finger to his lip, "Okay, if you can't read ghost stories, and get scared by 'Casper the Friendly Ghost' I don't think you can write a ghost story,"
Zane sighed and pulled my finger away from his lip. Zane was totally into writing, but he's never finished a book, yet has started a lot. It seems that each day he comes in with a new idea of something he'll write about, yet he never writes about anything. He has an amazing way with words, and knows everything about punctuation and grammer, but he can't sit down and actually write, he just can't he doesn't have enough focus.
***
After a long day of school, when I got home I came back to some more crazy, Zane was with me because his dad couldn't come home early enough to let him into the house, but everyone was zooming past us, doing whatever they pleased as Zane and I slipped past it all and went up to my room. It was a small room, with a twin bed pushed up against the wall and the dressers and other things up against the other walls. Unlike most girls, who hang onto their stuffed animals from when they were kids, mine were thrown away a long time ago and instead of knick-knacks filling the shelves, there was mostly books.
Zane would always joke that I was way to sophitocated for him and anyone at our school because his room was filled with junk and stuffed animals, random hats and many band posters, and of course piles and piles of paper all over the floor. So, if you look at that comparison, I am a little bit more mature, while Zane is trying to set off a baloon to explode on the weekends.
"Alright, Choco, where should we start? Play a computer game, play a trick on Ewin?" Zane asked as he flopped down on my bed.
"Homework?" I laughed and handed him his bookbag. "Seriously, we need to, unless you want to re-take the tenth grade, possibly?"
Zane rolled his eyes, he was anti-homework and I always thought getting it done now was better then never. We're quite opposites, so how we became friends is very hard for me to figure out, or anyone in general. Cooper, one of the most funniest guys you'd ever meet, said that we were probably just from a different planet, and since we were both aliens and trying to take over the world that that's why we became friends.
Either way, I know that Zane's my best friend, always has been, always will be.

[A-train]

I like it! ^.^; Please keep writing.

[rawrz .]

:3 Thanks!