Luna Aria

VI. Whoop-dee-doo

Aria's POV:

The irritating sound of my alarm went off, and I rolled myself over, attempting to sit up. Scrolling through my contact list, I searched for Cynthia's name, which isn't an easy task.

When I heard a few low muffled cries behind a bunch of large rocks, I crawled over there. Squatting down, I peeked between the stones to see a few guys crying.

Just crawl away, Aria.

They were hugging each other muffling words of apologies. When they broke apart, I realized it was the group of guys at school who caused the commotion.

"We're really sorry, Owen," one of them said.

"Yeah, we'll make it up to you. We don't care if you like men, we shouldn't act like that because you're our bro. You can like unicorns or trees or vampires."

"I trusted you all," Owen said, running his hands through his dark hair.

"We shouldn't have behaved that way. We're so sorry, Owen," he said, pouring out his lips, and they all did the same.

"You shitheads! I'll forgive you all just stop crying!" he cries.

They all came together in a group hug, patting one another back.

"By the way, what happened to your eye?" Owen asks one of the guys.

"My dad was pissed when he found out I hit you, so he punched me in the eye."

"What about you?" He asked another guy who had a purple-red spot on his cheek.

"My mom punched me."

"Your mom punched you?"

"You guys know her! She was a boxer!"

They all muttered words of agreements as they walked towards the parking lot. I sat there, watching as the sunset shine on their back while they playfully pushed each other back and forth, laughing and joking around.

"Hey, Owen, you better not fall for me," one of them teased.

Owen turned and smirk, "I'm gay, not desperate," he joked, and everyone burst into loud laughter, jumping into one of the two cars.

This is like a f*****g bromance movie.

I grabbed my phone and called Cynthia to pick me up. I walked towards the ocean, running my toes through the waves, feeling the cold tingly sensation. Laying down on the sand, I stare at the sky, counting the birds that flew by.

When I heard an ice cream honking sound, I sat up to see Cynthia waving at me. A few weeks ago, Cynthia decided to change her car honking into an ice cream musical to trick kids into thinking the ice cream truck was coming. I'm pretty sure there is a good amount of children who hates her, plus some adults, but she said she doesn't care since their reactions are so funny.

I swung my backpack over my shoulders and patted the sand off my clothes. Walking towards her car, I opened it and slipped inside. "What up luca day mee ocha," Cynthia said, puckering her lips and bobbing her head.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt to speak Italian, "It's luce dei miei occhi."

"I'm trying!"

"You don't have to learn Italian, Cyn. I speak English."

Cynthia said since we are best friends, she wants to know more about my heritage to understand me better. I don't see what's there to know; we were born in the same town at the same hospital. According to the nurses at the hospital, we were cradle neighbors. The nurses remember us because we were the loudest babies and hungriest babies they ever met.

Deep down, I think she is just going through an Italian phase, similar to her British stage, where she goes around faking a British accent and told strangers she is from England. I remember how she made up this whole fake story of how she is here for an arranged marriage to save her parents from debt then started crying. I wasn't complaining since we got a free meal from the restaurant only to come back a week later and she is no longer British.

"It's weird how you can speak Italian, though! I mean, you are Italian, so it makes sense, but none of your other siblings speak the language."

I threw a piece of gum into my mouth, "I guess I'm more rooted in my heritage."

She pointed downward, "You know your legs are wet and your pouring sand into my car, right?" I lifted my leg and threw it on her dashboard causing sprinkle of sand to fall into her car. "b***h, you are going to clean that up."

I waved her off and pulled the seat backward. "Send me the bill."

Cynthia rolled her eyes and bent over to the back of her car, purposely holding onto my face with one of her hands. I licked her sticky hands, not wanting to know why it tasted so sweet, but she didn't even phase. I missed those days when she was disgusted by my actions. Now, I can drop a stink bomb on her, and she merely sat there, throwing her own toxic bomb at me.

She jumped to her seat and threw me a towel and a mini vacuum cleaner. "Be a f*****g dear," she said, wiping her saliva hand onto my shirt.

I let out a grunt and turned on the vacuum cleaner, bending over and started sucking in all the sand. She took that chance and turned on her engine, beginning to drive, causing me to hit my head lightly on the side of the car. "Cynthia!"

She runs her hand down my face. "Shush, my child," she said in a thick stern voice while I rubbed my bruised forehead.

"I have half a mind to throw you out of the car, my child," I mocked her voice, continuing my clean up.

"Oh, then who is going to drive you home? Is it going to be you, Miss I can't drive because I can't reach the gas pedal."

When I finished cleaning, I threw the vacuum into the back of the car and placed the towel on the floor to catch the sand. "You know that's not the reason why...and I'm still growing, you know."

"Oh yeah, definitely," her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

I smiled, "I'm just waiting for puberty to hit."

She snorted, "That second puberty we have when we turn twenty?"

I patted her shoulder, "Exactly."

We continued talking about random stuff until we arrive at my house. When she dropped me off at my house, I saw Tom's car.

Sitting there, I started planning my funeral. If I die right now, I would like a butt load of lilies at my funerals. Perhaps, cakes with different kind of flavors. I would love it if they played Spring Day during my departure. I should tell mom to dress me up in my favorite purple dress and curl my hair. Of course, I don't want to die looking like that creepy little girl from Jae Locke. When people look inside my casket, I want them to think: "Damn what a pity, she was so pretty."

Cynthia glanced at me and pulled me into a hug. "If you die, can I have your clothes and shoes," she whispered into my ear.

I rolled my eyes and pushed her back. "No, I would like to be buried with all my clothes and shoes."

I swung my backpack over my shoulder and stepped out of the car. Grabbing the towel filled with sand, I turned back towards her. "I'll wash it and return it later."

She grinned, "If I can't have your clothes and shoes, can I at least have your video game collection?"

I threw my arms out. "Do you want me to die?"

She placed out a palm, "Now, what kind of friend will I be if I want you to die so I can get your stuff. I'm just saying, just in case you die. I need to know your will so your stuff won't collect dust."

I leaned forward, putting one hand on the top of the car door, I smiled, "You can have my book collection. I already promised the girl next door my video game collection."

She leaned back, releasing an exaggerated gasp. "What? Are you giving that little b***h your collection and not your best friend? Is she your new best friend? Oh no, she has to fight me if she wants that position."

"Cyn, for the last time, you can't fight her."

"And why not?"

"She just turned four!"

She puckered her lips and waved her hand, "Age is but a number."

I released a snort, "Yeah, and jail is but a place."

"That's correct. Jail is a place. See, you understand."

"I can't believe you actually want to become a lawyer. I always thought you would need one, not be one."

"What can I say? Self Representation!" she deepens her voice, throwing both hands in the air.

After some time, I hugged her goodbye, watching her drive off. I walked into the house, and the tension in the air hit me. I attempt to quietly but quickly slip into my room, avoiding any severe talk or, more specifically, screams explicitly from dad.

"Aria, are you home, sweetheart?" mom shouted from the dining room in her usual happy voice, but I can pick up the anxiety behind it. When she said:" Aria, are you home sweetheart," it's translated to "Aria get your ass in here."

Sometimes, I forget mom is a hunter with keen ears. I remember once I tried to sneak out of the house. I hung one leg out the window, and mom told me not to do it.

I dropped my backpack down and walked into the dining room, and everyone was sitting at the table. John and Joe were looking down at the table while Sam was glaring at our dad. I pulled a chair next to Sam while Tom gave me a quick smile than change it back to his neutral face.

"Now, since everyone is present. Shall we start discussing what happened earlier today?" dad said, using his work voice while cupping his hands together.

Dad only used his professional work voice when we really f****d up. "You," he pointed at Tom, "Did you force them to sign up?"

Tom threw his hands up in the air. "I'm innocent, I swear!"

dad glared at him. "Okay, not completely innocent. I did ask Aria to sign up." He may be a hunter, but dad freaks him out for some odd reason. Well, dad freaks out nearly everyone he ever crossed path due to his demonic aura.

"Dad, it isn't Tom's fault. I signed up on my own," I didn't mention Cynthia's name because well, I don't want any blood spilling tonight. It is hard to tell your future children that grandpa is in jail because he murdered mother's best friend.

He glared at me, "Say that again?"

I shrug, "I sign up myself."

In the corner of my eyes, I can see Tom smiling. Stupid Tom.

"What? W-Why would you something like? I expected it from the twins, well, because they are dumbasses and your sister but not from you!" I'm going to assume he talked to the twins about their secret training to be hunters already. Sam is Sam; she always did things without dad's permission.

"I wasn't going to, but I thought about what Sam said. She told me that going to Were High will give me a better future," Sam shot me a death glare, but I just ignore her.

"Everyone. Out. I need to speak to your mother and Tom," he declared, and everyone ran out of the door. We ran out of the dining room but stood in the hallway with our ears were pressed against the door.

"How dare you let them sign up! Don't think I'm stupid! You need at least one parental approval to sign up!" dad screamed, and I can hear a loud bang on the table followed by glass shattering.

"Oh! And who are you? You are not the boss of me!"

"You sign up all of our children towards death!"

"Oh, for f**k sake! I'm just signing them up to go to another school!" she shrieked, and everyone silently gasps since mom rarely cussed.

"Enough you two! Evan, I understand that you're worried about your children, but you have to understand that they can protect themselves. For heaven's sake, they are half hunters, but they are stronger than full-blooded hunters!"

It's true, my siblings and I are one of the few half hunters in this world. Usually, when a hunter and human mate the child is full-blooded hunters or none at all. We didn't know we were half-hunter until the twins got tested when they were seven after they got into a car accident with my mother. Mom healed because she is a full-blooded hunter, but she was shocked when she saw how the twins began healing on their own. She took them to a hospital, and immediately Sam and I got tested. Mom believed it is a gift, but dad doesn't see it that way.

Unlike full-blooded hunters, we got the privilege of being smell like humans but held the skills of a hunter.

Because of fabulous biological research, it's concluded that hunters and humans; in simple terms, are two sides of the same coin. The only difference would be a specific gene in hunters is switched on enhancing their senses.

It's rare, but a child of two humans can also be a hunter.

They found that out when a couple went to court because their child expressed hunter powers despite being birth from two humans—the Hunx2 Case.

Our father refused to enroll us in hunting school and instead enroll us into human school. Due to his position, he was able to hide our secret. Mom was not happy, but she accepted his decision because she was afraid of us getting hurt.

It was quiet. Too quiet. We heard footsteps heading towards the hallway. Immediately, we all look away, pretending we were doing something else. John and Joe were on the ground pretending to arm wrestle. Sam was staring at the photos on the wall, making a face like she never saw it before. I was on my cell phone, pretending to text someone - I ain't got no friends to text.

"Come in here, kids," he said in a stern voice with a hint of defeat. We formed a neat line and followed our dad back into the dining room, sitting down in our previous chairs.

He released a hazy breathe and glance at mom, who circles her thumb on his palm. "I will let you go to Were High School," he declared.

The twins jumped with and hit their first into the air. Sam sat there, smiling in approval. I, on the other hand, wished dad would hold us back somehow.

He held up a finger, quieting us down. "I will let you go to Were-High School if you promise to message every day, call at least once a week, and if anyone would hurt any of you. You will tell us! Understand?!"

"Yes!" everyone responds, and with that, we began packing for Were High School.

Whoop-dee-doo.

Note the sarcasm.

I can always tell my dad I don't want to go, and he will instantly withdraw me from that school. Unfortunately, I promise Cynthia we would go together, and I never break a promise.

When I finish taking a shower, I walked out to see everyone hovering around our parent's bedroom. Slowly, I crept towards them and poked John's waist, causing him to jump away and yelp like a little girl. "What the f**k Aria."

"Why is everyone out there?" I asked, looking at Sam, John, Joe, and mom peeking inside the bedroom.

"Your dad-" mom whispered, "is having an episode," she pointed inside the bedroom.

I shuffled between Joe and John, seeing dad, sitting on the bed. His eyes were concentrating on the tv, watching our family home videos.

"I know you are all out there," he said, breaking the silence.

Everyone started shuffling back and forth, pushing in each other inside the room. "You talk to him," Joe said to John.

"Oh, hell no! He hates me! He called me a dumbass!" John whisper yelled.

"He called me a fucktard!" Joe responded.

"You go, Sam," John said, pushing her in, and she shook her head, stumbling back.

"I'm not the favorite daughter," she said, pointing at me, while I crawled back towards my room.

Everyone stared at me, and I shook my head. "I'm not going in there."

"No, Sam is right. You should go," mom said.

"What? You are his wife! You go! Give him a good night or something!" I whisper yelled.

She shook her head, "I offer that earlier, and your father said no."

Everyone faces grimace. "Ew! Mom! That's disgusting!"

John grabbed my legs and pulled me. "Let me go!" I kicked him, but Joe held my other ankle.

I clawed onto the floor, but they dragged me into the bedroom and threw me inside. My face made contact with the carpet floor, and I looked up to see mom waving at me mouthing:" Good luck." Instantly, Sam grabbed the handle and slammed the door shut. I jumped up and tugged on the knob, but it refuses to open.

"Aria."

My hands stopped raddling the knob, slowly, I turned around to see dad watching a video of us. "Darn it!" I whispered and walked towards him.

Silently, we sat there, staring at the tv.

"Daddy! Daddy! Up! Up!" I screamed, jumping on the bed, holding a piece of the chocolate bar. The sugar was rushing towards every inch of my body as I did a backflip on the bouncing mattress.

Dad released a loud ruffled laugh and wiped the melted chocolate from my mouth. "I told you not to give her chocolate," mom said in the background, holding the camera.

"Okay, princess, are you ready for your ride?" Dad said, ducking down.

"Ride! Ride!" I shouted.

He bends down, and I jumped on his shoulders. Slowly, he got up, holding my back and ankles so I wouldn't fall. "Mommy! Mommy! I'm a big girl!"

Dad started zooming around the room, pretending to be an airplane, and I burst into a high pitched laugh, throwing my arms out, pretending I can fly. "I believe I can fly! I believe I can touch the sky!"

Dad clenched his fist, positioning his elbows on his knees. "I miss those times," he mumbled.

"Daddy, I'm still your little girl," I whisper, wrapping my arms around him.

"Yes, but you are leaving me. Not just you, everyone," he said, voice cracking sounding as if he will cry any second. He lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to hold back the tears.

"We will come back," I said.

He placed an arm around my shoulder, pulling me in. "Come back often, princess," he kissed my temple. "And no boys," he said in a stern voice.

"I got it, no boys, only werewolves," I joked.

When I looked at him, he had a grim expression, and I stopped laughing, dropping out a few awkward coughs. "Got it, no boys."

"I have a gun loaded with silver bullets, and I'm not afraid to enter Full Moon territory with it."

I nodded, "You know, you're the best dad ever."

"Don't tell everyone else, but you are my favorite," he whispered, and we cracked into a laugh.

"Daddy, everyone knows."

He pulled back and c****d a brow, "Am I that obvious?"

"Yes!" Everyone screamed from the door.

"If you're going to eavesdrop, might as well come in!" Dad shouted, and the door burst open.

"Group hug!" John screamed, and they rushed towards us, jumping on top of our bodies.

"Daddy! Daddy! Won't you miss me?!" Joe imitated my voice, squirming his body, and batting his eyes.

"Hey! My voice isn't that high!" I screamed.

"Hey! My voice isn't that high!" John copied me, flipping his long invisible hair.

We started arguing and bickering while our parents attempted to pull us apart. I could hear our booming voice echoes throughout the house, overpowering the torturing whispers inside my head.

Even though I fight with my siblings every day and my parents are quite strict, inside this room is everyone I hold near and dear in my heart. If I ever lose any of them, I don't know what I will do.