The Yarbury brothers

"Mom. How did you meet our dads?"

The woman sighed, looking at the nine little heads and the swollen stomach. How did she meet those bastards who trapped her?

Inwardly, her face twisted from anger, but outwardly she smiled.

"I met your fathers…"

----

I was so tired; I yawned, stretching.

Two weeks before Christmas.

A sigh escaped me, my mind wandering. I said in a polite tone

Time is tight. My mind was going a mile a minute with thoughts of what I should do next.

It has been three years since I had been on my own. The first year was hard, but luckily those people had trained me well. Trained me so I can later become the perfect wife for a man — I should not think about such thoughts. My mind needs to be clear, I have school and work later.

Stretching, I moved slowly to the next side so my body could finish cooling down. After another ten minutes and I was finished running from the beach to return home. In the small room I rented, I quickly rushed; showered, changed, and hurried to the first class in an attempt to catch the bus.

Living on an island is relaxing but also busy. It might seem that because the island is so small that you would get from point A to point B with ease, but that is not the case. From the C-parish, it takes me half an hour to get to parish M. That is only when the traffic is not congested. With congested traffic, consider an hour and ten minutes or so. Even then, pray no accidents happen and the road is blocked. The time in the morning is ten-thirty. Classes begin at eleven and continue for a duration of two hours.

My tests were over, all I had to do was get through this month and my life will be on the right track.

I can quickly leave this island out of their reach.

Arriving at the bus stop, I waited two minutes, expecting the bus to arrive as usual, but instead of the bus arriving first, an empty yellow van stopped.

I did not hesitate, all were the same, I just need to pay him upon exit and not entry.

Entering, I bowed my head, and sat in the seat near a window in the third row, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Some people looked in my direction, but they were discreet enough to look away.

Brown skin the colour of almond, with a full head of seaweed green hair, is not a pretty sight, especially when it is an afro. The eyes that are silver are stark on my face, but what is even more, my face had a foreign look, especially my long-tilted eyes without the exposure of my lid. Yeh, I had an epicanthic fold. If it is not enough, my lashes were dense and long, giving it that false look. My nose is straight, my lips were full and tinged in a dark pink almost red.

The makeup I added concealed most of that, and the dye I added to my hair made it black. Flipping through the information on the tablet, I did not admire the view outside, but focused on the points I possibly missed. Work and study are something most students who can not afford to study are something students become accustomed to. Once the first two years of the payment were up, I had to learn the hard way. Work or give up studying. So, I worked.

First had been as a server, but that did not work out. A bartender… same, three others until I was introduced to the present.

Pretending to be someone else in my real life and being myself there. How funny.

Looking up, the familiar scene came before me, paying the driver. I stepped from the yellow van and walked through the gate of the university.

"Morning," I said in a polite tone to the guard. He flashed a smile, teeth extremely white against his dark skin. "Morning. I hear you gine graduate, this year," he said while taking the identification card and scanning it. "Yeh, I have a few weeks left."

"Oh, then that's good then. I hope you do well out in the world. Christmas is in two weeks. I hope you spend time with your family."

I smiled at him and entered the university. Beginning University at twenty-one, I had studied hard, to quickly pass the subjects, so, I can finish and run away before I am twenty-five.

Inhaling deeply, I walked forward, clutching the tablet in one hand and the shoulder strap of my bag. "Du-Gooder. Good morning." A handsome young man appeared. He had a tall, strapping built. His eyes were sea green, and blonde hair, with classically handsome features; chiseled jawline, thin but shapely lips, straight nose, and straight brows. Oh, and his hair was cut low but swept to the side with a deep Part.

I tried my best not to admire him outright even though he always looked 'edible' with his button-up shirt, three-quarter-pressed pants, and what I could bet an arm, are handmade leather shoes. The weather is so hot, I have to wonder if he is OK. Peeking at Yarbury Theodore, I found that he is not sweating. In fact, he does not sweat unless he spars with his younger brother.

Anyway, it is cool where we walked at the moment.

"Good morning, Mr. Yarbury." It sounded English right?

Well, that is because my dear classmate is British. He also has a brother who is a genius — "Good morning miss Du-Gooder." The young man in question arrived soon after. The two were never apart, unless one was training and the other was busy in his study talking to whoever. Since I am a person who minded her own business, I never asked, and he never tells.

The younger man arrived, a year younger than myself, he is a slightly darker version of his brother. Not in colour, just his hair, and eyes; respectively, chestnut and liquid gold. His stature is slightly shorter, but as if to make up for the fact he is quite young, he has the built of someone who trains five days a week. He does actually and mix-martial arts. I have watched him a few times—shirtless. I must say, that he is like a god drowned in sweat, begging me to lick.

"Morning guys," I said in a dazed tone. Trying to return to reality. The Yarbury; brothers, one is older but due to his double major he has spent another year, and the younger, I should not think about him. Robbing the cradle is not my thing.