The City of Ionia

A gentle gray coat covered the paved roads and the dried grass. Small, soft pellets fell gracefully from the sky.

"Snow!" Roger said, pointing out the window.

"Don't get too excited," Owen said. "According to the weather app, it's gonna stop soon. We're not supposed to get a lot this time around."

"What… really? So no sledding?"

Owen shook his head. "No sledding."

Back in the outside world, the boys and I always messed around in the snow. Our favorite activity was racing down a hill in a poorly built wooden sled. Someone would either fall off, collide with a tree, or bump into someone who redirected you into a tree. Basically, concussion risks were high. I never got one, but Tim wasn't so lucky last year. A rock sent him flying off his sled and face–first into the snow. He rested a few days after, and I had to baby him, which I didn't mind.

"Want to turn on the heater? It's chilly." Tim said while bundled up in a winter coat and mittens.

Even with multiple layers indoors, he complained. Typical Tim. He never did well with the cold.

"It is on, Owen said. Kaze told me not to blast it. You know how much electricity bills cost?"

"Hey, Owen, just for half an hour. I need to warm up."

"You're wearing a winter coat indoors!"

I rolled my eyes and continued taking small bites of my raspberry muffin from yesterday. The sweetness hit a perfect spot in my mouth. My only regret was not buying more. I couldn't get enough of it.

Owen was in the kitchen prepping lunch early for us since he was going out with Cameron later. Tim lay flat on the couch reading, which was a new hobby he had picked up. He's been studying reading and writing to prepare for university admission in the next few months. As for Roger, his palms pressed against the window as he stared outside like a child excitedly watching snow fall. I couldn't believe he was a couple of years older than me and acted like a bigger child than Tim, who was the youngest.

Kaze was out of the house, and Sydney was still sleeping. She loved to snuggle up into a ball with multiple blankets during the cold, and wouldn't leave her room until after noon.

"Are you sure we can't sled?!" Roger said with a weary look.

"What is he saying?! I can't hear over the stir–frying noise from the stove."

Great, I had to be the interpreter since Tim shivered on the couch while staring into the abyss.

"Roger, we can't sled when there's barely any snow to begin with."

"C'mon! We gotta do something fun. How about a snowball fight?"

"Again, with what snow?" Seriously, did I have to beat it into his empty head?

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Owen yelled from the kitchen to overpower the sizzling noises from the stove. "Casino!"

"What?" Roger asked with his back facing the window.

"Cameron and I are going to the casino tonight. Come with us."

"Casino?!" Tim snapped back into reality. "When did you turn into a degenerate gambler?"

Owen stepped away from the kitchen and entered the room with the rest of us. Hopefully, he put the stove on low before stepping away. The last thing we needed was the house burning to a crisp.

"The casino has a rewards program where you can sign up for a free 50 ions to use on table or slot games. So technically it's not my money."

"Hey, Owen, I can't take you seriously with that ridiculous chef hat."

"Heh–huh?" He patted his tall chef's hat that looked like a miniature building on his head. At least it paired well with his chef uniform, which he bought at a cooking store. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," Roger said. "I think it looks cool. Can I wear it?"

"Get your own."

"Hey, don't listen to Roger. His opinion is invalid due to the lack of neurological brain cells," Tim said, all bundled up.

"Neurological brain? You're studying business, not language!"

"Neurology is a science! Thank you for proving my point time after time."

I sat in silence, savoring my muffin as the boys argued over the pettiest thing.

"Alright, forget it," Owen said in an attempt to simmer down the yelling. "Are we going to the casino or not?"

"Hey, can I go? I'm only 16… I think."

"You don't know your age?"

Tim shook his head.

"Ok… what does it say on your ID?" Owen asked.

"I don't remember."

Owen threw his hands in the air and slapped his thighs. "Forget it."

"No, wait! It's 16. It should be 16… or 18. Either way, I should be fine. The legal age to gamble is 16, which is crazy since I can't even crack booze until 19."

I tried recalling if such laws existed in the outside world. I couldn't remember if there was a minimum drinking age or not. Even if there was, it definitely wasn't enforced. The outside world had bigger fish to catch.

"Ok, casino it is. I'll pick all of you up past dinner time."

Roger asked a question that had just entered my mind. "Are Kaze and Sydney coming?"

"Uh… Kaze, I think, has other plans. I don't know about Sydney, but we can—shit! The food!" Owen ran into the kitchen and acted as damage control for the potentially overcooked stir–fry chicken and vegetables.

"Hey Jill, wanna wake up Sydney?"

"No thanks."

"Heeeehhhh. Why? It's past noon, and I want to know if she's coming or not."

"She's a violent morning person. Plus, you have the whole day to ask." A harsh, yet true answer.

"I hope she comes. She's fun to hang with."

Tim's statement made me put my almost–finished muffin down. "Am I not?"

"N–No! I think you're plenty of fun. See my hand, it's up to my chin. You're this fun. Sydney is like here… close to my lips. It's hand in hand. All I'm saying is that—that—that—you're fun and great to be around with! Yeah, right, Roger!"

"Huh? Oh—yeah. Sydney is great and fun! Is she coming?"

"Roger, you absolute numbnut!"

Great, so this is where I stood? To be honest, I was a bit hurt by that. Betrayed. I couldn't get out–done by Sydney. Stepping up my game was a must. I had to show them who was better.

I raised my hand and caught their attention. "Don't worry, boys. I will have plenty of fun tonight."

"Ye—Yeah, sure…?"

Not a confident response. Did they notice my unnatural smile?