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Class 1 – Induan Introduction
Kyane heard a bang rattle her door. “Kyane, get your tail outta bed,” her dad, Damon, yelled. “We have something to talk about, so unless you’re literally dying, I’m coming in!”
“Give me a second, Godda-”
“Language!” Damon pounded on the door.
“I’ll be out in a second! Hold up!” Kyane pulled up her leggings, slipped into her ankle boots, tossed her tan jacket over her blouse, and rustled her shoulder-length black hair in the mirror. Her unique genetics of a Greek father, and Japanese mother gave her thin, jet black hair she made sure was just messy enough. There was a third bang on the door. She kicked the purposefully empty hamper onto a pair of jeans with the belt still in the loops. The rest of her room was decidedly equally as messy. She swiped her belt curtain hanging on the backside of the door to get to the handle and pulled the door open. “Yes?” she said. She blew hair out of her face.
Her dad, a tall man in a red golf shirt tucked into khakis, thin-rimmed glasses on his face, and a fist-sized rock in his hand. “What is this?” he asked.
Kyane looked at the rock. She tried to hide the gleam of recognition in her eyes. She darted them around to find an escape route. “It’s a rock. Look, I’m going to be late for school if I don’t leave in like a minute. We can talk about rocks when I get home even though I’m not even taking geology.” She saw a small opening between her dad and the door frame. She tried to weasel through.
Damon sidestepped, blocking her escape. He extended the rock into her face again. “That hasn’t stopped you yet. So, what is this?”
“I. Don’t. Know,” she said again. “I’m not the scientist in the family. You and mom are. So, unless you want another stern phone call from Mr. Ayer about me getting there late, I better get going.” She pushed him out of the way, through the hallway, and down the steps.
“It’s a weapon!” he yelled. He threw the rock down the hallway, and onto the carpet. “Urragghh!” the rock’s thud emphasizing his yell. The bedroom door opened. He jumped. “Jeeze, you scared me,” Damon said. He turned and saw his wife, Hinotomi, exit the master bedroom in a long red dress, flats, and her black hair in a bun.
“Yelling at her isn’t going to solve a thing,” Hinotomi said. She closed the door. The two walked downstairs. “We’re going to need to find another solution.”
Damon removed his glasses and massaged his temples. “You’re right.” He placed his glasses on his face. They walked into the kitchen. Damon went over to the Keurig, turned it on, and placed his Green Bay Packer Tervis on it. Hinotomi went to their white fridge and removed her green tea. “I am not sure what to do. I was never this bad.”
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. She poured her tea into her Spider-Man travel mug. “We just have to,” she paused to think of the words. “We just have to be who we are.”
“No, scientists. Test different methods until something sticks.” She placed the lid on her cup, walked to her husband, and gave him a hug.
“Military school will stick.”
“Extracurriculars will stick first.”
Damon placed his K-cup into the machine, lowered the lid. The popping sound of the lid breaking sent a shiver down his spine. He thought they needed to make them out of the bubble wrap material so the pop was more satisfying. He applied to Keurig to work on that but didn’t get accepted. Hinotomi rubbed his arms. “Hello?” Damon blinked, realizing he lost himself in that flashback.
“I’m here. We better get going ourselves.”
“Yes, we have a lot of moving to do today.”