An Intro to Home Life

You take the bus back at the end of the school day. Your neighborhood rests comfortably atop wealth's bell curve, uniform white houses lining suburban streets for several miles of spiderweb road. It's nothing ostentatious, but it's comfortable, and your family doesn't need much else.

You don't knock when you get in, simply unlocking with your key and entering. Dad will still be at work, but Mom and your brother should be home. Then again, you're not too sure of his college schedule; maybe he'll be kept in late today for a class or something.

You amble into the kitchen, catching Mom making dinner. It smells of pasta sauce and meat — spaghetti and meatballs, you bet. You smile before greeting her.

"Hello Mom," you say. She jumps, yelping an instant before she whips around to face you.

"Willow! I swear you and your brother do that on purpose."

"I don't know what you mean, Mom; I was just greeting you." Your grin gives away the lie, not that she'd believe you in the first place.

"Scaring me, more like. You two are incorrigible. How was your day?"

You shrug. "It was the same as always."

"Fine, then?"

"Yep." You start backing out of the kitchen. "I've got homework to do, and I have to change." Your hoodie is getting a little hot for this warm afternoon.

She nods, turning back to the stove. "Okay. Tell your brother that dinner will be ready in an hour."

"I will." With that, you leave the kitchen, making your way upstairs.