Birthright

James Silver let out a yawn. He was nearing the end of his eight hour drive home from college. He had just wrapped up his sophomore year at Port Charlotte State University. As a second year student, he still hadn’t taken many classes in his psychology major yet, but the intro classes he took were interesting enough, if a bit basic. James was eager to get deeper into the subject over the next few years.

The prospect of spending the summer at home did not excite him, however. James had chosen PCSU over more local schools because he desperately wanted to get out of his hometown. High school was fine for James. He wasn't bullied like some of his classmates and had a small group of friends he mostly hung around with. Academics came easily to James and his natural intelligence allowed him to coast through high school without much trouble. However, athletic ability was one of the main determiners of popularity at his suburban high school, along with money and looks. James didn't have much of any of those. His wiry 5'10" frame and general lack of coordination made him awful at most sports. He had very dark brown hair that hung past his ears and grew in a messy tangle of curls and waves. His most striking feature was his eyes, which gleamed with a unique amber coloring, but he lacked the chiseled jaw and well-defined muscles that most girls at his high school seemed to like.

It wasn't really high school that drove James away, though, much as he disliked the rigid social hierarchy. It was the soul-crushing boredom of suburbia. He could only take so many nights of eating at chain restaurants and sneaking into the local parks to smoke and drink with his friends before he wanted to pull his hair out. And now here he was, back again. His planned summer internship had fallen through so he drove back home with no plan. Maybe he could pick up shifts at the burger joint again? James sighed at the realization that working at his old part time job was one of the more exciting options he had.

As James pulled into the subdivision where his family lived, his thoughts drifted to his family members. James grew up with his mother and two sisters. He never knew much of his father. From what James understood, his father floated in and out of his mother's life until shortly after his younger sister Allie was born. No phone calls, no texts, no birthday cards or letters. He simply vanished. James always resented him for that, but his mother still held onto fond memories of him. James could see the pain behind her eyes and could hear her cry some nights when she thought of the bastard. He swore that if he ever found his father, he'd kick his ass for that.

Finally, James pulled into the drive of his family home. Like James himself, the house was rather modest and unassuming. It was just about all his mother could afford on her relatively meager salary, but it was enough for everyone to have their own room. While James was unloading his bags from the trunk, he suddenly heard someone shout his name. As he turned to see who called him, he was nearly knocked to the ground by his younger sister Allie leaping into a hug.

"Did ya miss me?" asked Allie, still wrapped around her brother.

"Of course Al, but geeze, you're heavier than you look."

Allie dismounted from her brother and glared at him. "I'm not _that _heavy. And don't call me Al! You know I hate that, plus Allie is short enough already."

James could see the annoyance on Allie's face, but it only made him smile. Allie was petite, her slim figure only standing a little over five feet tall. She had auburn hair that hung a little past her shoulders, beautifully complemented by her icy blue eyes. Her little nose and round cheeks were covered by a smattering of freckles. Allie really had grown into a beautiful young woman, but retained a certain youthful look best described as cute. Unlike James, Allie was pretty and popular as a member of the cheer squad. It was really a wonder that the two were even related, but they got along well when they weren't winding each other up.

"Aww, I'm sorry Al. Old habits, y'know? Wanna help me with my bags?"

"Hah! Maybe if you had been nice to me," she replied before bounding off with a smile.

James laughed a bit and carried the bags up to his bedroom himself. As he began unpacking, he noticed a package on the bedside table. Thinking it was a bit odd, he inspected the package. It was a manila envelope, no address. He turned it over and saw his name written in bold red lettering.