Preface

“Cassie, wake up.”

“Hey! Get up!”

“Poke her.”

“No way. You poke her.”

“Coward.”

With a grumble, I buried my head in my pillow and sleepily tried to convince myself that the voices I was hearing were simply a strange dream. Something nudged my shoulder.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know. She never sleeps in like this!”

Unfortunately, not a dream. The pillow I had strategically been using to block light and sound was gently removed. There was another push to my shoulder.

“Cassie, you’re freaking us out now.”

Slowly, I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly to soften the sunlight. Standing above me, strikingly tall, were two of my six brothers, Nate and Todd. Both pairs of glinting black eyes gazed down at me in a worried sort of way.

Which was completely unusual. Most of the time, the Trips looked like they were up to mischief, not stressing about my sleep schedule.

“Morning.” I sat up, my dark, curly hair falling across my shoulders. I had a kink in my neck from staying up late, studying for a history test. The other half of my bed was still covered in my books and notes, and I vaguely remembered yanking the plug on my alarm when it had gone off earlier.

“It’s almost seven,” Todd told me. Today he was wearing a green polo, while Nate had decided on red. For a moment, my brain was occupied with their outfit choices (in my half-awake state, I felt like they resembled giant Christmas ornaments), but a moment later, I realized just exactly what Todd had said.

“It’s seven? Oh, crap.”

I jumped out of bed, hurriedly organizing my text books and throwing them into my back pack. Todd and Nate stood motionless, their identical faces expressing the same confused frowns.

“You’re never late,” Nate said slowly, as if that could help him comprehend my hectic behavior. I rolled my eyes.

“I was up all night studying for that AP World History test,” I replied, trying to find a clean pair of jeans in the pile of laundry at the foot of my bed. I purposely chose a shirt that was neither green nor red.

The thing is, Nate, Todd and I are triplets. And even though I’m a girl, and the two of them are boys (obviously), we are scarily alike. Sure, the boys are a good five or six inches taller than I am, but I consider my five foot four inches a good height for a sixteen year old girl.

Nate and Todd are impossible to tell apart. In fact, I’m the only person who can always discern who is who. Both of them have messy, dark brown hair, our father’s strong features, and a faint spattering of freckles.

I like to consider myself the more delicate, feminine version of them, but in all honesty, I’m not delicate. Feminine, yes; but although I’m lean, I am not fragile. I grew up wrestling my brothers for anything I ever wanted. That kind of beat the “delicate” right out of me.

“Cass?” called a voice by my door. My youngest brother, Michael, is six and just recently lost his two front teeth playing soccer. His blue eyes shone up at me as I walked over to him.

“Yeah, bud?”

He held out his hand, showing me the blue Hotwheels mustang he was holding.

“Isn't my new Hotwheels cool? And Mommy says breakfast is ready,“ he told me, then he grinned and ran back down the stairs.

“Cassie, your shirt’s on backwards,” Todd told me, pulling my attention back. I turned to face the Trips (the family nickname for us), then looked down at my shirt. Darn, he was right.

“Are you ok?” Nate inquired as I flipped my shirt around the right way. I pulled on my sneakers and double checked my back pack to make sure I had everything.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered, slightly weirded out by my brothers’ new protective attitudes. Grabbing a jacket, I headed downstairs. Delicious smells were coming from the kitchen and I could almost hear my stomach rumbling. The Trips followed me out of my room, strangely silent.

One upside to having so many brothers is having my own room, while the rest of my siblings have to share. The downside to that? My room is the attic, in all of its slant-roofed glory; where all the heat gathers in the summer, all of the cold congregates in the winter, and the multiple windows let in way too much light.

When I walked into the kitchen, the incredible smell of bacon and banana pancakes hit me in a warm wave. My mom was piling plates and silverware onto the table. I’ve been told many times that I resemble my mother, and it’s true. Her eyes are more of a gray, and her hair has wisps of silver running through it, but other than that, we are very similar, even down to the heart shape of our faces and our stubborn noses.

“Here, Cassie. Better eat before it all disappears,” my mom laughed, handing me a plate full of food. I smiled and sat down at the long table next to my father. Dad was drinking coffee and jotting down notes in his ever-present pocket-sized notebook. He’s a journalist for the local paper, so the sight was as normal as any.

“Good morning, baby girl,” he said to me, taking a moment’s break. Another advantage to being the only girl: I was dad’s only daughter and as a result, I could usually get anything I wanted pretty easily. Except for a car. The Trips and I still have to share with Jordan, our eighteen year-old-brother (which I really wouldn’t have a problem with, other than I never got to use it).

“Morning, dad.”

Sitting next to my dad were John and Zach. John was twenty-one and attending the state university on an art scholarship. Zach, nineteen, was only a year out of high school. He was also attending college, as a History major, while working a part time job as a photographer for one of the big newspapers in the city.

“Hey, Cass,” Zach said, swallowing a bite of pancake. “Did you finish studying for your test?”

I grimaced. “Barely. I’m beginning to regret all these AP classes. I feel like a zombie.”

“Just let me know if you need any help with that world history class,” he told me with a wink. I laughed back at him, but also seriously considered taking him up on that offer. Zach is insanely smart when it comes to history; he was always spewing off facts and dates like they were the words to a popular song.

I glanced up from my orange juice as Jordan entered the kitchen. He was a senior at Peyton Hills High School, while the Trips and I were juniors. Jordan looked mostly like our father, with auburn hair and light brown eyes. He was quiet person, but he was a star on our school’s soccer team and therefore, a popular and well-liked student.

“Trips, Jordan, you’re going to be late,” my mom reminded us, pointing to the clock. With a sigh, I finished my orange juice and took one last bite of bacon. Nate and Todd each grabbed a pancake for the bus and Jordan shoved a whole piece of bacon in his mouth. I shook my head, too accustomed to the eating habits of my brothers to be grossed out.

The cool September air outside smelled fresh and clean, but also like there was rain coming. I consider rain to be the best type of weather. Walking ahead of my brothers, I took in a deep breath of air, prepping myself for another day in the crazy institution called high school.

And so began another day in the life of the girl with six brothers. Yes, that would be me.