V. Naomi, the Fourth Child and More Myles

“Children have more need of models than of critics.”

-Joseph Joubert (1754-1824) Pensees, No. 261

There are different kinds of intimidating people.

There are people who are intimidating because of their brooding scowls and dark presence, and there are also people who are intimidating because of their height and/or temperamental personality.

Myles Benjamin Kraft is neither one of those.

He was one of those people who you just can’t read. You know, those kinds of people who can keep their faces straight and as unemotional as a rock for a very long period of time. It’s just so inhumane not showing any kind of emotion for more than 5 minutes that it becomes very intimidating.

And you get scared that if you say anything wrong that they’d suddenly blow up at you or stab you with a hidden fork with no expressions on their faces—because you just can’t fathom what they’re thinking with their faces so stoic.

And that’s the exact reason to why there were no words exchanged between Myles and me on our way to the basement.

The guy hasn’t even tried making small talk. He just walked and walked…and, well, walked. Why the heck did he invite me to go with him if he was just going to act like I didn’t exist?

I’m starting to regret my decision…

………Ack, forget I said that. 10 more minutes of awkward silence with a scary alien-like step-brother is always better than playing 20 Questions with my mom.

“My name’s Jackie.” I told him, in a vain attempt to start some kind of conversation. He didn’t say anything or do anything to show me that he heard me.

I waited 15 seconds, in case he was just slow in responding to things, and talked again. “So, how old are you?” I asked, trying to sound casual. I winced inwardly. Even to me it sounded fake and strained.

Now don’t get the wrong impression, I’m actually a great actress, but somehow I just couldn’t be my usual charming self in Myles Kraft’s very intimidating presence.

But to Myles’ credit, he didn’t call me out on my lame-ass attempt of a conversation starter. I was about to give up when he suddenly said, “I’m 14.”

I stared at him, momentarily shocked because he actually responded to my question. “O-oh?” I said, after a long silence. That was all I could say? ‘Oh’?? Where the hell is that smooth-talking girl who reigned her Highschool back in Chicago?

Wait a minute. 14? I looked at Myles, from down to up. He was almost as tall as me and he’s 14? And considering the fact that I was wearing 3-inch heels…he was practically as tall as me!

So that means if I weren’t in heels…he would be at least an inch taller than me…

Ack, I feel so short.

“How about you?”

I stopped my ramblings in my head, and stared again with surprise at Myles. “Huh?”

Oh Lord, I couldn’t have made that ‘huh’ sound stupider than it already did.

Again, Myles didn’t make any move to call me out on my stupidity. “How old are you?” he asked, flatly, repeating his question in more understandable terms. I peered at him, and his face still held that blankness that only a few people could pull off. I totally couldn’t tell if he was curious or not…

“Um, I’m 16…”

“Are you Josephine Reynolds’ daughter?” he asked, suddenly, and finally looked at me. His clear baby blue eyes were clearly focused on me, not like earlier at the dinner table. When he looked at me that time he wasn’t looking at me in the eyes and it felt like he wasn’t actually seeing me…

This boy just keeps on surprising me, huh.

I pretended to be confused—and successfully hid the surprise I felt at the suddenness of the question. “Now what would make you think that?” I asked, and lifted my eyebrow delicately.

He looked at me again, and this time with a small smile plastered on his thin lips. “You have your mother’s ears.” He said, glancing at the said body part for a second before looking straight into my hazel eyes again.

His smile was something you could call ‘rare’. He just didn’t seem to do it often, and knowing that I made him smile sparked a sense of achievement in me, and I grew more comfortable around him.

Just like that, the atmosphere seemed more agreeable.

It’s amazing how a simple smile can do.

“Really?” I asked, in wonder, reaching up to gently touch my left ear. “Nobody has ever said that to me before…” They always just told me I was beautiful like my mother, but they never went in to details, and if they do go into details, my hair was always the thing that is said to be similar to my mom’s.

Myles did some weird head jerk thing to get his blonde bangs out of his eyes. “I’m honored.” He stated, not unkindly. “So, has my dear sister scared you yet?”

A large grin appeared in my face, remembering my new step sister, Terry. “Scared? Hardly. She’s fun to bicker with, but she did put me on guard.” I told Myles, shrugging.

He chuckled, silently. “Yeah, well, Ther incites that kind of reaction from people, especially when she glares at them with such ferociousness.” He said, speaking as if from experience.

A thought came to me.

“Don’t you and your other siblings get along?” I asked him, curiously.

He faltered a bit in his steps, as if he didn’t expect the question, but he regained stride with ease—and if I wasn’t watching him so closely I, myself, wouldn’t have noticed it. His face was blank again, guarded.

I mentally berated myself. Just when I was getting him to open up and act more like a human, I had to ruin it by asking him some kind of question that isn’t for people who he just met.

“Trent’s not exactly your ideal brother, and I guess Ther just doesn’t care.” He said, slowly, then his voice turned slightly bitter when he continued, “Apparently, her studies and future are more important than her two younger siblings.” Then he paused a bit, as we turned a corner, he continued with a dry tone. “Trent and her are fraternal twins—if you haven’t noticed—therefore she’s much closer to him than her other siblings. Which means he’s the only one who exists to her—she ignores Naomi and me most of the time.” he shrugged as if it was nothing, but by seeing his reluctance about the subject, I could see it meant more to him than he was letting on.

I turned a blind eye to his bitterness about the topic. “So Ther’s some kind of Whiz kid?” I asked him, lifting my eyebrow.

Myles chuckled, humorlessly. “Whiz kid? She’s the freaking valedictorian—and now that she’s on the verge of graduating she’s going to be studying more.” He said, his eyes cold.

“And Trent?” I asked, wanting to know more about the Kraft children. Obviously this family wasn’t the perfect family they actually looked like at first glance. This problem here about Terry’s coldness towards her younger step siblings has probably gone unnoticed by Bobby since he was so caught up in his new wife.

Myles glanced at me, his eyes growing colder. I knew he had a soft spot for his older sister even if he was bitter about her ignoring them or something, but Trent was the real person he was angry at. “Fishing for information about your new brothers and sisters, Jaq?” he asked, giving ‘Jaq’ a French accent.

I shrugged and smirked at him. “It never hurts to know who I should steer clear of.” I said. Besides, it can also never hurt to know about your new housemates in case you need blackmail material, I added silently to myself, and laughed evilly. Inwardly, of course.

He looked at away. “Well, Trent is you typical highschool guy. Resident heartbreaker, football jock and probably one of the most popular dicks in school. In my opinion, that guy probably has more STD’s than his CD collection, considering the types of girls he brings back here whenever Josephine and Dad are away…” he stated, dryly. It was obvious he didn’t like talking about his brother, but he wasn’t telling me to ‘fuck off’ or something, so I’ll push my luck. “He has one of the highest reputations. His grades are the results of copied papers, bribes, threats, etc. He’s actually smart—all Kraft kids are—but he’s too lazy to use his brain, and relies on the beauty of copying, or letting other people do the work for him.”

I smirked. “For someone who hates him, you sure know a lot about him.” I said, teasingly.

By the dark look he gave me, I knew he didn’t appreciate that comment. “Why wouldn’t I know, when he practically parades himself everywhere?” he spat. “Besides,” he sobered up, and regained his cool. “I don’t hate him. This thing I feel for him is something much higher and stronger than hate that no one has even found a word to perfectly call or describe it.”

I laughed. “Ah well, you’re smart; maybe when you grow up you’ll invent the word yourself.” I suggested, glancing at him. Then I thought about it, “Hey, why do you hate Trent so much anyway? And maybe Terry or ‘Ther’ a little…” I asked him, again my curiosity getting the better of me.

We turned another corner as Myles took a minute to choose his words carefully. “Let’s just say…they have no sense of family loyalty.” He said, mysteriously, and then he added, “And I promised that I’ll never be like them.” He muttered, and suddenly stopped. “We’re here.”

I didn’t get a chance to ask him about what he meant exactly by ‘no sense of family loyalty’ because when I looked at the large door in front of me, all thoughts flew out of my head.

The door was BIG, and there were numerous signs on it all giving you the same message, and some were even in different languages. It totally screamed, ‘FUCK OFF!!’…and I guess it was kinda cool…

“This is the door to the basement??” I asked Myles, disbelievingly.

Myles shrugged. “It was once a basement, now it’s actually Naomi’s room. But we still call it the ‘basement’ for some reason…Naomi doesn’t mind.” he said, shrugging, but as he was about to knock, a curt girlish voice, suddenly came from behind us.

“What are you two doing in front of my room?”

I turned swiftly and was met with a small girl with dirty blonde hair that looked like it has been neglected by its owner for 3 months(in which means, it technically looked like she hadn’t bothered to brush it), and her sharp cobalt eyes were fixed on me—in a scathing glare.

I nearly shuddered. This must be Naomi—there’s no mistaking it. The sharpness was there.

Naomi Kraft may be small (more or less 4”10) but with her arms crossed and her eyes glaring holes in your head? She can be pretty intimidating. And not Myles’ kind of intimidating too.

The 2nd type, actually, the temperamental personality.

Just by looking at Naomi I could tell she had a nasty temper—like her big brother, Trent, and maybe a little like her sister too.

Her attire made her look more like a kid. She had on an old ripped gray jumper, and a dark blue inside t-shirt, and dark gray checkered sneakers. Her sharp cobalt eyes snapped towards Myles, almost accusingly. “I do know I have already patiently instructed you, Myles, to never bring dull-witted strangers in my home and/or near it. And I forbid your sluttish girlfriend over there to even poke her perfectly manicured fingernail on my grand door.” She snapped, talking quite fast, as she magically took out thick-rimmed glasses from inside her jumper pocket to wear it.

Strangely enough, it seemed to complete her image.

Wait a minute; did the kid just call me a ‘slut’ in my face?

Myles smirked at Naomi, but it had that natural brotherly humor in it. I could tell he cared for Naomi deeply, even if he won’t admit it. He looked more human now. “I’m happy to know that at least someone thinks I’d get a girlfriend—as sluttish as she may be—but sorry, Nao, Jacqueline here is not my girlfriend.” He said, looking at his sister, thoroughly amused.

Naomi pursed her lips, annoyed, and her already sharp eyes narrowed even more at her brother. “Oh? So what is she, another cheerleader for a ‘study partner’? You know, Myles, that’s exactly how Trent started—and look what he is now. Nothing more than an egoistical lazy jock because of a stupid blowjob he got from a stupid cheerleader back in 9th grade!” she spat, venomously.

Myles didn’t seem to take offense in this, because he just rolled his eyes.

And I stared at the girl, not at all believing that such crude words had just come out from her mouth. “Where the hell did you learn those things?” I asked, out loud. I didn’t even mind her mistaking me for that kind of a cheerleader, because well, I’ve been also mistaken for it a lot of times already.

Oops. Bad mistake.

Naomi’s blazing cobalt orbs focused on me, and the fire in them only seemed to intensify. “I’m 11, and I have a brother who’s as horny as a rabbit. Said horny brother also brings his amoebas back here for me to see and makes out with them in my face. Horny brother also reads playboys and leaves them around for me to find, and I can read. You can do the math—if you even know math.” She spat at me, and then smiled sweetly. “Of course, being such a slut, I guess you probably know Trent already—so maybe you should just go up to his room and leave us alone—I’m sure you know where it is.”

She called me a slut again.

And during this whole speech, Myles only stood at the side, amused.

I couldn’t take her calling me a slut again, so I finally gave her my own speech. “First of all, Trent’s a jerk—I wouldn’t touch him with a 10 foot pole even if you pay me a thousand dollars. Second of all, I’m your freakin’ stepsister, so I’m not in any way sexually associated with my stepbrother.” I took a deep breath. “Third of all, I may be a bit slutty,” I admitted, sullenly. “But I have brains and I use it, and for your information, I have taste, so even if Trent wasn’t my stepbrother I’d still kick him in the nuts if he comes anywhere near me with non-friendly thoughts in his mind!” I breathed normally now, and glared down at the small girl in front of me.

She seemed a bit surprised at my outburst, because her eyes were slightly wide. “You’re our stepsister.” She said, as if confirming it to herself.

“Yeah, I am.” I said, flipping my hair back, almost haughtily.

“Wow. I never thought you’d be so awesome.” She said, frankly. “I thought you were going to be this boring kid or maybe this weird girly prep.”

I stared at her again.

These kids never cease to throw me off.

“Oh.” I blinked. “I thought you all were going to be snooty rich kids, but now look. I have two amazingly smart stepsiblings.” I shrugged, and smirked.

Naomi straightened her glasses and smirked right back. She looked over at Myles who stayed silent during our whole exchange and was also currently trying to hide a grin behind his hand. “I like her.” She said, and I knew she meant it.

Myles nodded, sagely and smiled a bit. “Somehow, I knew you would.” He crossed his arms. “Now, the reason we’re here is because dinner’s ready. And…” he looked at his watch. “We’re already 20 minutes late.” He sighed, lightly. “Ah well, I don’t care if they’ve already started.”

Naomi’s smirk slipped away from her face, and she looked at Myles, almost dryly. “If I say I’m not hungry, will they leave me alone?” she asked.

Myles thought about it, putting a finger on his chin, tapping it lightly. “Hmm, probably for the first 10 minutes, but when dad notices you’re not there he’ll come and get you himself. And you know that’s more annoying, since he’ll barge right into your room.” He said, and looked at his sister as she looked annoyed.

“Fine. I’ll go." she conceded. "I just hate these family dinners.” She said, pursing her lips.

I stuck out my tongue as if I was disgusted. “You’re not the only one, kid.” I said, and grinned. Naomi huffed.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She said, impatiently.

“Lots of chit-chat time later, ladies.” Myles said, as he started heading back to the dining room, which was 4 hallways away. Ack.

I sure hope I live through my first family dinner with the Kraft family.

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Author’s note:

Hi! I hope its okay. It’s long enough, right? Anyway, I updated earlier than I had expected… I don’t have much to say, but I welcome criticism, because, well, I’m not that happy about this chapter, I don’t know, I feel like there’s something missing?

Anyway, thanks for reading!

-Jessi