The day I hate the most in the world. First day of new school year. English Class. Teacher smiling brightly, telling us to write about our family.

Jeez. No matter how I swing this, 'My Family' are like werewolves at an angels' convention. My cousin Taylor said that, I don't really know what it means, but my uncles laughed when I said it to them.

Explaining this is nuts.

When I was little, it was easy to explain. My mother was dead, my father's wife had her killed. My grandparents could not cope, so my grandparents handed me over to my dads.

I have two dads, and they call themselves my uncles.

This is where the teacher nods in understanding and says something very understanding about gay parents.

I didn't have a clue what gay meant. So I would nod because I didn't know any better. And everything would be strangely okay with the world.

Now we've had the class, my dads are definitely not gay. My Uncle Harold has been in love with this lady called Grace forever. Sometimes he watches over her, and when I ask why my Uncle Harold says nothing and my Uncle John says that my Uncle Harold thinks it's better that way.

What way? That isn't a way! That's my Uncle Harold sitting on a park bench being sad. It would be all better if he went over and talked to her. But when I said this, my Uncle Harold went all quiet and sad, and my Uncle John took me out for ice cream.

My Uncle John is in love with this cop called Carter. She's a smart, kickass cop, my Uncle John is sometimes desperate to please her, so he leaves her care packages all over town. Sometimes these care packages make Aunt Joss angry. I don't know why.

There's this person called Elias. Sometimes his name comes up, and I hear it, and then Uncle Harold goes all quiet, and says Pah Devant. I don't know what that means, but usually my Uncle John stops talking about it and goes all quiet too.

Elias upsets my Uncle John. I know that is something to do with me. My Uncle John has these bad scars on his wrists, he never talks about them. So I asked my Uncle Harold. Uncle Harold said that those scars came from a time when I was a baby, Elias hurt my Uncle John, and my Uncle John saved me. I don't know quite what to do about that. So sometimes when I see them, I get upset and I have to give Uncle John an extra big hug. One time Uncle John let me look at the scars, they go all the way round both his wrists. They must have really hurt.

When I asked if they hurt, Uncle John gets this funny far away look in his eyes. He goes all quiet, and then he smiles and says "not really." And he gives me a hug.

We live all over the place. Sometimes we stay together. Sometimes I go with my Uncle Harold, and we read books, and he teaches me how to use the computer, my math homework is always better with Uncle Harold.

When I go with my Uncle John we do karate and judo, and yoga, and my Uncle John teaches me how to handle a gun. A skill (whatever that is) that he thinks I will need, but I have to not tell Uncle Harold, because Uncle Harold doesn't like guns.

My Uncle John is a kickass sniper. I don't really know what that means, but Aunt Joss said it, I think that she was cross with Uncle John at the time. It was something to do with a car, and diplomatic something. My Uncle John smiled and said something about it being effective, and Aunt Joss said something about international incident and that my Uncle John didn't need to start a war with Switzerland. Then he grabbed her and kissed her, and she punched him in the chest and they both seemed to like that.

When I asked why Aunt Joss called Uncle John a kickass sniper, Uncle Harold rolled his eyes, and said something to Uncle John about corrupting a minor, and Uncle John said that thing about not mentioning guns in front of Uncle Harold, and sent me off to play with Bear.

Bear is Uncle John's dog, although he spends more time with Uncle Harold. He's old and kinda smelly now, but he used to be something called an attack dog. Uncle John talks to him in Dutch.

I found this Dutch dictionary in the library once. It didn't look like the other books that Uncle Harold has, they're old and precious. This dictionary looks newer and a lot like it had been chewed by something. It had teeth marks in the cover. The Dutch dictionary makes my Uncle John grin, and my Uncle Harold look exas… a word Uncle John uses that I can't spell, but my Uncle Harold looks cross.

Uncle Harold loves Bear, even though he pretends not to, there are stashes of treats for Bear all over the library. He also brushes his fur, and has this little thing that he sticks on his finger to brush Bear's teeth. Bear likes it.

There are other things in the library too. Things that make Uncle Harold nervous, when he gets nervous, Uncle John rolls his eyes. Then they argue.

They argue a lot. It's not like fighting, it's not noisy and angry, I've heard some of my friend Rachel's parents' fights. I hate them. Uncle John and Uncle Harold arguing is different. It's quiet, and sometimes they say things to each other that are really funny.

They really care about each other. Uncle Harold has a limp and something is wrong with his neck and back, he doesn't turn his head properly, but his whole body. Sometimes Uncle Harold is very quiet and Uncle John says he's really hurting. That's when he does things for Uncle Harold, but they don't talk about it.

Two years ago Uncle John was very badly hurt. A number shot him twice in the leg, and his thigh bone was broken. I didn't know how a number could do that to Uncle John, but we stayed with Uncle John for a long time after that.

I was scared. Seeing Uncle John lying in bed with his leg all wrapped up in this thick heavy, hard bandage, resting on this long pile of pillows, he couldn't move on his own, he could hardly sit up. At first, I thought he was going to die, he was all sleepy and strange.

I wanted to be close to him. So when Uncle Harold sent me off to bed, I went. But I had a plan, I was coming back. It seemed like forever before I was certain that Uncle Harold was likely to be asleep too.

I sneaked back. Uncle Harold was asleep in the chair next to Uncle John's bed. I checked, Uncle John seemed to be asleep too. I was trying to be really, really quiet because I didn't want to wake them up and have them send me back to my room. I climbed up on the bed and lay down next to Uncle John. His arm moved, and slid around me and I cuddled up really close and put my head on his shoulder.

Uncle Harold was leaning forward, and I could reach his hand, I stretched my arm across Uncle John's chest and put my hand on Uncle Harold's hand. I loved my dads so much, it just seemed the right thing to do.

I wanted them both to be happy. That meant that I had to find a way to fix the Grace problem.

I'm still working on that one.

I like it best when we are all together, either at the library or at one of the many homes that we have. That's another weird thing. I have an address which I give to people who ask, but we rarely live there. We have lots and lots of homes, all shapes and sizes. But I never talk about those. I don't know why, but listening to my school friends that seems way different. I learnt very quickly that it's best not to talk about the things that make you different.

Not that I have a hard time or anything like that. The teachers say I'm smart, gifted, especially at math and with computers which should have earned me the label 'dork', then I whupped Charlie Danetti's ass in the playground when he was picking on the little kids and now the bullies leave me, and the little kids, alone.

Uncle John was both pleased and cross with me, when he picked me up after school and apologized for my behavior. I think the principal wanted to ask more questions, but Uncle John was being what my Aunt Joss says is urbane (whatever that is), he smiles a lot, his voice gets more raspy, and there's a look in his eye that he normally keeps just for Aunt Joss; so the principal backed down. She had this kinda soppy look on her face. A look that a lot of women get when Uncle John spends time around them.

Uncle John only really has that look when Aunt Joss is around. Although there's a lady called Zoe who seems to like my Uncle John, and he seems to like her.

Zoe seems to like Uncle Harold too. She likes to ask him questions. Most of them he just blocks carefully, but sometimes she asks things that make him squirm and blush. I think she likes to do that. Uncle Harold pretends not to like it very much. But I am not sure that is really true, he seems to smile more when Zoe is around.

Uncle Harold likes to show me movies on nights that we're alone and it's not a school night. He likes the Star Wars movies, or he pretends to because he knows that I like them.

I like to think of us as the Rebel Alliance. Doing good.

Sometimes I ask Uncle Harold what he thinks I ought to be when I grow up. He always answers the same. Whatever I want to be, and that includes my name.

My name is Reese Leila Wren and I'm 12 years old, and that's my real story. But not the one I'm trying to write for my homework.