Chapter 01: First Impressions

First impressions are always the hardest, but we all usually manage to get through in the end. I'd also say that re-meeting people is harder than meeting new people, because you don't know if their memories of you are as fond as your's are of them.

 

Hey, my name is Ellie. If you’re wondering why I’m a 14 year-old girl, cleaning the house on my own free will, it’s because of my mum. It’s been about a half a year since she died, and it hasn’t been the same without her around. I feel like I have to do all of the cleaning and organizing around here. It’s not like I feel pressured, though. There are just some things that you know you have to do, and don’t mind doing. My dad is working at the moment, but he said that he’s going to get in touch with one of his old friends and start working somewhere else. He’s a real estate agent right now, so I have no idea why he would want to have any other job; this one brings in really good amounts of money. I just finished grade nine about two and a half weeks ago. It’s the last week of June, 2007.

Like many stories I’ve read, this one begins with a phone call:

"Hello?" I pick up the receiver.

"Hi, Ellie," it’s my father.

"Hi, Dad."

"I’m just calling to say I’ll be home in about five or ten minutes. I hope it’s okay if I bring over that friend I’ve been talking about."

"No problem."

"Thanks, see you soon."

"Bye."

"Goodbye."

The thing that gets me about phone calls is that they always end in "goodbye," when you know that you’re most likely gonna see that person in a few minutes once you hang up. Oh, and if you’re wondering: that "friend" he’s been talking about is some guy named Kevin. Apparently they're going to discuss stuff about my dad's new job. I’ve met him before, my dad said, but I can't remember him that well, because since the incident, my mind has been kind of messed up, and my memory isn't too good. I’m still seeing a psychiatrist.

Shortly after I have finished changing into clean clothes, the doorbell rings. I open the door to see my father standing with a man that looks almost like he could be very distantly related to him. They walk into the living room and sit on one couch, while I sit on the opposite one, with the coffee table in between.

"Ellie, I’d like you to re-meet Kevin Jonas Sr," says my dad.

"Hi, sir," I say.

"Nice to meet you," he smiles. He seems very nice.

First impressions are sometimes completely accurate, or can sometimes be very misleading. If you let someone get on your good side when you first meet them, you can become the best of friends, or you can end up...not so good friends... But with my experiences, I've learned how to see through people...which can come in handy sometimes!

During our time on the couch, my dad explained to me that Mr. Jonas was his oldest and best friend. They still remain best friends today, due to them always staying in touch. (And by the way, they aren’t related in any way whatsoever!) He also mentioned how Kevin was a pastor at our church for a while, but only when I was much younger.

"Do you remember Kevin in any way, Ellie?" My Dad asks me halfway through dinner.

"Umm, not really. Somewhat, though," I say, honestly.

"I thought so," he says. "The last time you saw him was probably when you were about 11 or 12, right?"

Kevin answers, "I think it was when Nicholas was 12, and they’re the same age, so yes; when she was 12."

"You have kids?" I ask him, trying to be casual, even though I’m so intrigued. I examine my painted metallic teal nail polish.

"Yep, I have four boys. Kevin is 19, Joe is 17, Nick is 14 - the same age as you - and Frankie is 6."

"You've met them before. They used to go to the same church as we go to now. I'm pretty sure you used to spend your time around them," says my Father. "Mandy is still in touch with them."

"Oh, yeah! ...I kind of remember now," I say. It’s somewhat coming back to me. I am still friends with Mandy, by the way, even though we're not best friends. But we will still talk and say "hi" in the school halls now and then. She lives near me; just a few houses down, across the street.

"Have you heard of the Jonas Brothers, then?" My Dad asks.

"Yeah. Well, I’ve heard of them, and I know they’re a band...but I don’t know any of their songs, really," I tell him.

"The Jonas Brothers are Kevin’s three sons," says my Father.

"Sorry, but I don't really watch TV or listen to new music," I tell Kevin.

"That's okay. They’re mostly on the Disney channel, anyways," Kevin laughs. "They were the ones who got my sons popular, so we're staying with them for now!"

"You’ll meet them tomorrow," my dad says. "They’re going to come down here before noon."

"Very cool," I comment and smile.

We continue to talk, and I keep on casually asking more questions about the boys. (You know how it is when you really want to know something, but you don’t want it to be obvious that you really want to know? Yeah.) It finally gets late, and I go up to my bedroom. I lie in my bed and think about tomorrow. Are the guys that famous that I should know of them very well? Do they remember me at all? Are any of them good-looking now? Questions fill my head as I fall asleep, and dream of myself having the most perfect day tomorrow.

*

The buzzing of my alarm clock shocks me into a sitting-up position in my bed.

"Ugh. Scary," I mumble to myself. I really don't like the sound of my alarm clock. It’s extremely loud and annoying. I make a mental note to buy a new one.

It’s 10:31am. I walk over to my dresser and slide open one of the drawers. I pull out a pair of clean, faded jeans, slip off my pajama pants, and put them on. Then I walk over to my closet, open it, and start searching for a decent shirt to wear. Why is this so difficult? I hardly even remember these guys. Why am I trying so hard to impress them? I guess first impressions really are important... Maybe just to me, but I wouldn’t know; I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone else. Except for that one time:

"And who are you supposed to be, dear?" The scarily-nice lady with bulgy, dinner plate-sized eyes at the door asks.

"Elvis," I answer with my best Elvis impersonation.

I shake my head, and my flashback of Halloween nine years ago ends when a skateboard that used to be propped up in the corner of my room slides off the wall, and crashes to the ground.

"Oopsies..." I walk over to the fallen board, and pick it up off the ground.

I haven’t skateboarded in so long. I wonder if I’m still able to... When I finally choose the shirt that I’m going to wear, I put on a random beaded red bracelet, a belt, and some socks.

After I brush my teeth, do my hair, and get washed up in the upstairs washroom, I go back in my room and grab my skateboard, then head downstairs. I set the board near the front door where my shoes are, then go into the kitchen. The clock in there says it's 11:11. I sigh.

Everything in my life has to do with the number 11. Whenever I look at the time it's almost always something-eleven. I was even born in the 11th month on the 11th day: I was 7 pounds, 4 ounces. 7 plus 4 is 11. It's weird. I'm actually starting to get annoyed by it.

I grab a banana and go back to the front door. I slip on my checkered Vans, grab my skateboard and cell phone, and step outside into the warm air. I sit on my porch with my skateboard beside me and eat my banana. When I finish eating, I throw away my peel into my backyard compost bin, and then start skateboarding on the empty road out front of my house. I just keep going up and down the road; thinking of things. My street is really long, so when I say going up and down the street, it means fully going from one end to the other.
 

Crap. I am so stupid. I should have checked the Internet to see what these dudes look like now!

My friends are right...I really am slow. Haha.

I check my cell phone. It's 11:47.

Good; I still have time before they arrive...or not.

I skate past my house to see a silver SUV in my driveway, as well as three guys sitting and talking in the same place where I sat to eat breakfast. One guy looks over at me; he points and says something to the other two, then they all look at me and smile.

My stomach does flip-flops, but I keep on skating past my house even though I know I should be going in. I'm nervous, what can I say? I only wish I brought my glasses so I could see further to check out what they look like. By the looks of it, their parents and Frankie already went inside to greet my dad.

I skate back the other way and pass my house again.

Then my cell rings. I take it out of my pocket and flip it open.

"Hello?"

"Ellie, where are you? The boys are here," it's my father.

The guys (I'm guessing) noticed that I answered the phone at the same time that my dad phoned me from inside, seeing as he was in the front foyer of the house at the moment he phoned me, without deciding to check outside to see if I was there. Breathe in from long, complicated sentence!

The guys start to walk towards me as I pull off an Ollie and stop skating.

"Yeah, I'm outside right now," I say into the phone.

"Okay, see you."

"Bye," I close my phone, and slip it into my jeans pocket.

"Wow," I whisper to myself. The guys are pretty hot; better looking than I expected. "Nice!"

One of the guys walks up to me. He looks like he's the middle brother. "You've got skills! Skateboarding and talking on the phone at the same time is tough!" He comments. If only I could remember his name...

"I manage," I smile at him.

"So how’s it going?" He asks. "This is like meeting you all over again! We haven't see each other in two years, and before that you mostly hung out with Nick and Mandy, anyways!"

I look over at Nick, and he blushes.
"I like skateboarding," he says with a dreamy smile on his face.

"So do I," I give him a weird look, but then I smile, and then laugh.

The first guy gives Nick a weird look. JOE! His name's Joe!

"Haha, yeah. Joe, right?" I turn back to the middle brother.

"Yup! Joseph Adam Jonas," he bows. "At your service."

I cringe at his middle name, "Ooh, I had an ex named Adam. It didn't go to well. He had bucked teeth..."

"Then just call me Joe," he laughs, and puts out his hand. I shake it. "And you probably remember my brothers, Kevin and Nick. Our youngest bro, Frankie, is inside right now with our dad and mum."

"Well, it’s good to see ya'll again," I say. "You know, I can hardly remember the last time we all saw each other."

"It’s been awhile," Kevin nods.

"It’s been awhile," Joe sings to the tune of Staind’s "It’s Been Awhile," and does his best ultra-rocker impression with an invisible microphone in his hands.

"Haha, I take it you’re the lead singer, then?" I ask him.

"Yuppers, along with my bro, Nick here. Heck, even Kevin sings."

"You've never heard our band's music?" Nick asks, surprisedly. It's the first real sentence I've heard him say.

"No, last time I heard you guys was when Nick was front-and-center," I say, "and I don't watch much TV or pay attention to the media at all."

"Wow. That's pretty...bold for a girl your age," Joe comments. "...Not being all hype over the media, I mean!"

"Yeah... I guess you expected me to be one of your crazy fan-girls swooning all over you, and pestering you for your autographs, huh?"

"Kinda," Kevin says.

"Haha, well sorry guys, but I don't think I'll be asking for your autographs," I put my hand on Kevin's shoulder.

"But you'll be swooning over us?" Joe asks, trying to hide his interest in the subject.

"Maybe," I give him another flirty smile. He sends back the same smile.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Nick nudging Kevin.

"Anyways!" Kevin tries to get us back on subject. "I do sing, but not as much as they do," he motions towards his two brothers.

Joe puts his hand on my shoulder, leans towards me with wide eyes and nods, "Nick sings way to much."

"Not as much as you talk," Nick says in a shy kind of defensive way.

"Oooohhh! You got told!" Kevin starts poking Joe.

Nick smiles embarrassedly and glances at me. I smile back, but he quickly looks away. I continue to look at him. And by look I mean stare, but in a more watch-look way that’s not so stare-ish.

"So!" Kevin says to break the silence again, while Joe has gone wandering off somewhere over the rainbow. "It sounds like your dad's going to be managing our band along with our dad."

"Yeah, that would be pretty cool! It sounds really interesting!" I say.

We all talk for a little bit longer, and then decide to go inside.

Author's Note

Read on, my loves, read on.
I like comments; feedback is greatly appreciated! :)
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