Is it too sudden to do another fanfiction? Eh... ;)

Anyway, I really hope you like it, and enjoy this one, as much as you guys did the other one! Props to the infectious disease I have right now- akin to a fanfiction bug! :) I can't stop!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own PC. ROA or CR!

Isa

First day of school, and I'm already off to a crap start.

I groan as I scan the contents of my wardrobe trying to find my favourite 'lucky' skirt. I've worn it every beginning of the school year, and It's worked well so far.

"Has anyone seen my 'lucky' skirt!" I below down the stairs, feeling like a complete douche for not trying to find it yesterday. Usually I have my whole wardrobe planned out, on what I'm gonna wear the next day. But the 'back to school' party yesterday knackered me out, and now I'm friggin' paying for it in wardrobe crisis extraordinaire.

Like I said...craaaap!

I hear mom's voice call from all the way downstairs, "Is it not in your wardrobe, sweetie?"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, mom. It totally is. I'm wearing my 'lucky' skirt right now, 'cause it was in my wardrobe and calling down to see if anyone's seen it for the hellovit."

"Alright, don't need to pull on the sarcasm on me, I get enough of that with your brothers." Mom says, reaching the landing and propelling herself upstairs. Her blonde hair- the hair I inherited, but in a darker shade- is loose and beautiful, messy, but still managing to look great, somehow. Her face is make-up free, but still smooth and creamy, her eyes a soft shade of Prussian and although she's wearing her baggy sweats and loose nightshirt, you can totally tell she's still got it on.

Can I also point out, that my mom is in fact, forty four?

I glance down at my own messy hair, a honey to her shiny golden, and my pyjamas, which are rucking up my calf. In short, I look like Mr. Potato head...but worse.

This makes me even grumpier.

"Is it in the wash?" Mom asks, biting her lip, as she scans my wardrobe, and then perches her hands on her hips.

"I dunno. This school year is gonna be awful without my 'lucky' skirt!" I say, sighing and falling back onto the mattress, letting my Medusa-like hair fall all over the bedspread. "I can feel it in my stomach."

"That's just the Indian food we had last night, baby. It'll be fine." Mom says, perching lithely on the bed. "You don't need a skirt to start off the school year well. Just the right attitude and a big smile on your face."

I mock-scowl at her.

Mom laughs. "Not quite like that..." Suddenly her arms snake out to tickle my stomach. I squeal and roll over, giggling as she mercilessly tickles my 'soft spot'.

"Aha! That's more like it!" Mom grins.

I can't help but agree. Nothing like a tickle session with your mom to get you started for senior year, the most important year of your life!

Especially if said mom is the best mom in the world.

"Yo dad-o. Wassup?" I say, the moment I'm downstairs, wearing my skinny jeans, and feeling a little better about it, thanks to mom.

I'm not surprised to see my dad standing at the hob wearing a lopsided chef's hat, we bought the last time we went to Disney World, with a picture of Mickey on it, and an intense expression on his face. His tongue is even jutting out of his mouth.

It's dad's thing, to make pancakes on every special occasion. Which, for us, is generally about twice a week.

"Pancakes." Dad says, the tats on his arms moving inconspicuously as he flips one in the air, and turns to grin at me. "For my mija on the first day of senior year. Oh yeah, check my moves."

Paco, who's sitting on the counter, one booted leg up, black hair tousled from the shower, is on his phone, probably texting his girlfriend of three years, Julianna. You'd think the two would back off each other after a couple and one years, but no. Their as loved up as always, always feeling each other up, at any opportunity.

Guess it runs in the Fuentes family, that constant lust and affection couples have. Hell, it's been twenty nine years with my parents and they still have the occasionally cop a feel, or god forbid, the extra long make-out sessions. I don't even want to think about what goes on behind the bedroom doors: my parents love each other. Great. The want to show their love for each other. Fab. Just pop in headphones and try not to think about the grossness of it all, is our motto.

"Paco." I say. "Texting your girl? While you're at it, tell her she needs to re do her wardrobe...it's terrible."

Paco sticks his tongue out at me. "She's beautiful how she is, Isa. Back off, with the tigeress pose and let Juli alone."

I push Paco's legs off my stool and sit down, pulling the cereal bowl and box of Count chocula towards me. At that moment, Jay decides to walk in, wearing tight black pants and a Green 'Hoosiers' top.

He's grinning like a chameleon.

"Mom! Mom! Mom!" Jay says, jumping up and down. "Guess what!"

Mom runs downstairs the moment she hears Jay, and charges into the kitchen, dressed in a black cotton dress, that hugs her curves and her hair combed to perfection. "What?"

"He asked me out! Your rules worked! Dorian. Asked. Me. Out!" Jay announces.

Mom squeals and hugs him. "I'm so happy for yah honey!"

I shake my head into the bowl and hide my grin. I'm happy for Jay too. He's been wanting to ask this guy, Dorian, whom he's had a crush on for three months, out over the whole course of time, and mom just about as much as him. She's always the one who deals with the relationships in the family. She's like the female version of Hitch. Love Guru extraordinaire.

I catch dad staring at mom and Jay up from the pancakes, and wink at him. He winks back, and I laugh, shaking my head at the bowl on the counter.

Yeah. Senior year is gonna be great. 'Lucky' skirt or not.

There's no reason to worry.