(Hey yall! starting a new series. this is a sorta rom-com thing similar to 48 Hours, but the lead is our boy Wy. this is going to be a bit of a side thing, im still gonna finish 48 Hours, i just thought it'd be fun to spice things up a bit XDDD love yall!! it's also a bit of a different writing style...we'll have to see if u all like it XDD ~Huff) Chapter 1: Wyatt Summer School Journal: Hi. I really don't know what to say right now. t̶h̶i̶s̶ i̶s̶ s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶, t̶h̶i̶s̶ i̶s̶ s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶, t̶h̶i̶s̶ i̶s̶ s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶. Thirty-six entries required. On different days! Wow, this is giving me a headache just thinking about it. Whatever, I'll write something tomorrow. Saturday, June 6th I am convinced that when you are going to have a particularly rotten day, the universe makes sure you start it out quite nicely, so the awful surprises later come as an even bigger shock. If so? IT'S. NOT. FUNNY. Ahem, anyway. I started Saturday pretty good. It was the first day of summer break-if it counts on a weekend, whatever-and Mom and Dad let me sleep in. Till about nine am. Which for our family, is late. "WYATT JAMES CARTER GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW-" All in all, a simply lovely way to be woken up. I scowled at my ceiling and flung my blankets off, getting up, not even bothering to put on a shirt, or real pants. I take offence to that, actually. Pajama pants are definitely real pants. My mother, in fact, does not agree. "Wyatt! If you don't get down here in ten seconds I'm eating your breakfast!" I jumped down the stairs the way I've been scolded for doing since I was five and headed to the kitchen, muttering under my breath. "What I wouldn't give to be an only sibling..." My best friend Kai, has that simple blessing. My parents on the other hand? They had one, then made five duplicates. Maybe if I would've been the first, they would've decided that their lives were complete with just one son. Nope. I get to be the youngest of six, all boys. Wonderful, I know. "Ray, I swear you are such a pig-" "Liam if you don't get your freaking clothes off the floor by tomorrow-" "Dude, Dad needs you outside asap!" "Can't you go?" "You know Darce hates me, suck it up and go." I was used to this sort of madness by now. I was born into it. Some might say I thrived in it. "Dylan, touch my food and you d13." I warned, sliding onto a chair at the counter next to my brother. He and Raylan are twins, both less than a year older than my sixteen. "Try me, Mouse." But he slid the plate over to me, only after faking a huge bite of my pancakes. I made a gruesome face back at him. It's the running joke of the family how short I am. Both my mom and dad are unusually tall, all my brothers following in their footsteps by being at least six feet. And then there's me. Five foot six and very aware of how much little growing I have left to do. I still hope and pray for that growth spurt to this very day. Because of my both my age and my height, I have the pleasure of a variety nicknames, many of which have been listed in various places for the family's amusement, including, but not limited to: Mouse, Shortstop, Elf, Dwarf, Mini, Shorty (original, I know), Young One, Noodle (IM NOT THAT SKINNY), Runt, Gerbil, etc... I shoved a huge bite into my mouth to swallow down the urge to thr0ttle my brother. I do this a lot. The door to our front room, which is right beside the kitchen swung open and my oldest brother at twenty-two, William Carter, stepped in, brushing off his muck boots on the mat. His eyes passed over the faces at the table before landing on me. I would've sighed, if my mouth wasn't full. "Wy-outside. Mom needs help at the register." I made an unintelligible noise that could either be interpreted as agreement or annoyance. It was a bit of both, honestly. "I'll take the rest of your-" Ray started, but I shoved the rest of my food into my mouth and hopped off the stool, heading outside to his shocked face. Okay, let's pause here to clarify some stuff. My family and I live on a small farm. And when I say small... I actually mean fairly big. Nothing commercial size or anything, but we've got a good share of both basic and other animals, along with a large garden on the far-left side that provides enough during harvest season to feed our whole family and have left over for the farm store. Yup, we have a little store. It's like a glorified shed, honestly, polished but only a little bigger than the one we store all the tools in. We sell all sorts of things, foods, various items made from our goat's milk, my mother's crochet, little knick knacks and that sort. I like the store. It smells good, like cedar and a bit of our fresh honey. I like helping out there, serving customers and packaging goods. But sometimes, it makes me feel weak. All of my siblings help out at the store, true. But I help out the most, while they go help Dad with all the big stuff, like taming the horses, or plowing, or anything that requires pure strength.
It's just another reminder that out of eight, I'm the little one. The kid. Though they'd never admit it...useless. I wish they would see that I'm growing up. I can't be the kid forever. I want to help them. But at least working in the store is fairly relaxing. I get to kick back in the chair and read whatever latest novel I have. I knocked on the door to the shop before opening it. Mom took one look at me and raised her eyebrows. "How about a shirt, Wyatt? And some real pants?" See? Funny how easy it is to forget you aren't exactly wearing acceptable clothing when you're in the safety of your own home. I made a face. "Uh...oops. I was hurrying. William told me you needed me." "I do." Mom said with a roll of her eyes. "I have to go and run some errands, if you could take over that would be great. Here-" She tossed one of the customized red 'Carter Farm' shirts at me that we sell, and I ripped off the tag and tugged it over my head. "There probably won't even be that many people." I said, when she made a pointed look at my bottom half. "Fine. Just be professional, please?" "Always do." I told her, satisfied to remain in my comfy clothes. She chuckled to herself and ktssed the top of my head. "Bye Songbird." She said, ruffling my hair. I good-naturedly swatted her hands away. "Bye Mama. Love you." Until about mid-afternoon, I had a pretty good time. I was practically glued to my current read of choice, able to sneak a bite of Mom's delicious brookies if hunger struck. Business was slow. Occasionally someone came in and requested something, and I did my best to help them. Like I said, a bit slow. I was at a particularly interesting part in the book, where the hero was in danger of his deepest secret being revealed to the entire world when- Ding! The little bell above the door rang. "Hi, welcome to Carter Farm shop, how may-" I started, trying to finish the page before looking up. I was interrupted. "Hi, I'm looking for a Mrs. Grace Carter?" The smooth, honeyed inflection of the voice made my eyes fly up, widen, then narrow. "What are you doing here?" I demanded of the girl. She was tall and slender, with an athletic build and springy black hair. Her olive complexion was just the right amount of contrast with her dark, doe-like eyes. And she was very, very familiar. The girl's perfect pink lips fell open in a little 'oh' of surprise, her dark eyebrows shooting up. "Wyatt...Carter? You work here?" I grit my teeth. "I *live* here, Ashlen." I corrected. Liv's mouth quirked up at the side and I shook my head rapidly, wishing I could bang it on the desk. "Not HERE-here! Over...there." I gestured vaguely towards my house, then narrowed my eyes. "But why are YOU here?" Liv smiled, too innocently. "For you, dear, obviously." I blinked, momentarily speechless. She smiled like the Cheshire cat and crossed her arms. "You liked that, didn't you? Well guess what, Carter, the world doesn't revolve around you. I didn't even know this was your farm." I shook the fog out of my head and scowled. It's really annoying to have an attractive enemy. It makes for incredibly embarrassing moments where my stupid teenage guy heart falls for her evil schemes. Momentarily. And then I recover and remember that though she may look a beautiful girl, Olivia Bailey Ashlen is a d34dly snake dressed up pretty. "Oh, yeah, I forgot, there are twenty other guys who live on a farm, with the last name 'Carter' in your life." I snapped, crossing my arms. Liv shrugged. "Or maybe I just don't keep track of all the scrawny, insignificant farm boys I meet." "What do you want, Ashlen?" I said in frustration, snapping my book shut. Liv tried to lean over to read the title but I dropped it under the counter. That felt too personal. I didn't need to give her anything else to use against me. "My name is Olivia or Liv, *Wyatt*, but if that's too hard for your caveman-level-brain to remember-" "My bad, I thought you loved being associated with your famous movie star mother? Why else would you flaunt it in everyone's face every single day of your life?" Liv leaned over the counter till she was right in front of me, eyes flashing. "You're just jealous I have a life with meaning." "Money doesn't equal meaning, *Ashlen*." I said, emphasizing the name as I met her eyes, mine unwavering. She held my gaze for a long time, like a challenge. I didn't look away. "Hey, Wy, Dad wants to know where the-" Liv and I both whipped around to glare at Liam, who held up his hands and backed slowly away. "Woahhh, I don't know what this whole thing is, but Mom wants you to be professional, Wy. I don't think fltrting with the customers is very-" My face went fifty degrees hotter. I chucked the brookie tray at his face. I missed. ...Life is so unfair. First: Voila? It appears u have arrived! Next: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1352215140 (Comment to be pinged and such<333 love yall!!)
