This is another favorite of mine. Katelyn is a bit boring, but Peter and his cousin Esme sure aren't.

I was so excited to go to Annabelle and Emma's house. I had never been out of the N.I.C.S. until coming to BAYA.

Outside, a tall, dark haired young man with dark blue eyes waited for us. "This is Dr. Strauss," Emma said. "Dr. Strauss, this is Katelyn." Dr. Strauss waved. He seemed relatively calm, but excitement glittered in his eyes, and his hands shook.

The drive to Annabelle and Emma's house was a lot shorter than the trip from the N.I.C.S. (Geist. We live in Munich, Germonio— Emma)

My jaw dropped to the ground when I saw Annabelle and Emma's house. It was huge. A pool two stories tall stood in front of a white, modern mansion with blue, green, and red lights lighting it up. Huge windows were on every floor, and balconies on the fourth floor and the roof.

Dr. Strauss was smiling when we pulled into the driveway.

"No way.... I thought Ina told you not to!" Emma gasped. "She changed her mind," Dr. Strauss said. "What happened?" I whispered to Annabelle. "That car," Annabelle whispered back. A black sports car was parked in the driveway.

Inside, two women sat in the living room. One was blonde haired, and the other one had brown hair. I tried not to stare at the brown haired lady, but her eyes were two different colors!

"So you noticed my eyes, huh?" the brown haired lady said. "Uh, yeah."

"This is my cousin Esme," Dr. Strauss said. "Esme, this is Katelyn." He pronounced Esme Ez–MEE. "Hi," I said shyly. "Come on!" Emma said, dragging me upstairs.

Emma and Annabelle's bedrooms were huge. They both had their own separate bathrooms. A dance studio was in between the two bedrooms, and both bedrooms had doors that opened out to the balcony. Emma was right. That house was way more advanced than mine.

"Do you mind sleeping here?" Annabelle asked, showing me the guest room on the their floor. "Our rooms are just down the hall," Emma said. "I am fine here," I said. Annabelle and Emma said their goodbyes and went to their rooms.

I went to bed at eleven thirty. I got up at six that morning, and the drive made me tired.

The next morning was pretty chaotic. Dr. Stein, the blonde lady, was going to the Roviet Confederacy for the week, and Dr. Strauss was not calm in the mornings.

"Peter, I'm leaving. You can get Starbucks by yourself," Dr. Stein said. "You have to type in your address so they can know where to bring the coffee."

"Ahh! I accidentally clicked two orders of the Caramel frappuccinos!" Dr. Strauss gasped. "That wasn't an accident," Dr. Stein muttered. Dr. Strauss gave Dr. Stein a shocked look. "You don't believe me?"

"No, because I know you," Dr. Stein said. (Ha, ha, ha! Busted, Pete!—Emma) Dr. Strauss shrugged his shoulders. "Es ist zu spät. Ich klickte 'Eintragen' bereits." Dr. Strauss said. I don't speak Germonian, so I don't know what he said. (He said, "It is too late. I clicked 'submit' already"—Annabelle) Lukas, Annabelle and Emma's brother, walked to the kitchen, grabbed something to eat, and went back upstairs.

"Dr. Strauss, we're leaving! We'll get breakfast somewhere!" Emma shouted before walking out the front door. "Come on! Unless you want cereal, we' going to get breakfast and find Max!"

"Who's Max?" I asked. "Our neighbor," Annabelle said pointing to the huge house next door. I realized a boy was sitting on the porch.

"Hallo, Max!" Emma called.

"Hallo! Was geht? Wer ist Ihr neuer Freund?" Max said.

"Max, sprechen Englisch. Katelyn nicht Germonian sprechen," Annabelle said. "Does Max speak English?" I asked Emma. "Yeah. We learn English in school."

"Hey," Max said. "I'm Max."

"I'm Katelyn," I said. Max was speaking English, but like Dr. Strauss, he was still hard to understand.

"Where are you going?" Max asked us.

"The Berliner shop!" Emma called over her shoulder. "What's a Berliner?" I asked. "Jelly donuts!" Max cheered.

"Didn't John. F. Kennedy once say he was a Berliner?" I asked. "Yes. Listening to non-Germonian people speak Germonian is funny. That quote is one of my favorites. JFK was a jelly donut!" Max said. "But of course, he wanted to be a Berliner because we are awesome," Emma said. "Ja," Annabelle said. I felt a little embarrassed because I didn't know what they were talking about. "He really said that?" I asked. Max nodded. Now I didn't even want to try to speak Germonian. It seemed so confusing.

"Come on. I'm starving," Emma complained. "Okay, saumensch! We're going!" Max said.

We walked down Ivan Street, which, I'm guessing, was like the main street.

"There!" Max cheered. A sign on the door said, "Berliner." An elderly lady sat in a chair behind a case of Berliners. Emma said something I couldn't understand, let alone remember. (I said, "Drei Berliner, bitte," which means "Three Berliners, please."—Emma)

The Berliners were so good. I could have eaten a million of them.

After that, we pretty much just wandered around until lunch time. We didn't really eat lunch, but we did get a snack. And then it started to rain.

"Run!" Max yelled. Max ran easily through the crowd of people, and so did Annabelle and Emma, but I had to slow down for people always getting in my way.

When we got back to the house, Dr. Strauss was talking to a rabbit.

Dr. Peter Strauss
As the oldest, I demand this section. (Whatever. We are still going to interrupt you—Emma) I don't care. Yes, I was talking to Dr. Sherrylina. Dr. Sherrylina is the rabbit. Esme brought her to me because she thought Dr. Sherrylina would be a good coroner. I was a little insulted by that because I am a great neurosurgeon. Or at least that's what Ina told me. Speaking of Ina, she had just left to go to the Roviet Confederacy. I was really worried about her because the RC is an Ivanist headquarters, and Ina is an anti-Ivanist. She had better survive until our wedding, which, at that time, was only two months away.

Even though Ina was gone, there was still someone to boss me around—Esme. I didn't whether to be excited or scared that my cousin was coming to stay the week with me. When Esme was little, she would play with scary little dolls. I think I would rather be locked in the closet than t to look at those dolls ever again. (A few days before I proposed to Ina, she locked me in a closet for six hours after I drank twenty three cups of coffee.)

I was so stressed about the wedding, so I considered drinking lots of coffee. Ina was on her way to another country, so she would never know. And Esme needs to admit it, she's not the boss of me.

"Dr. Sherrylina, am I alive or dead?" I asked Dr. Sherrylina. She bit me. "Ow!" I yelped. "That's how she knows you're alive," Esme laughed. "I'm alive," I told Dr. Sherrylina. "She can't understand you," Esme said. "Well, I can't understand you," I retorted. Esme rolled her eyes. "I don't know why Ina likes you. I don't know how she can stand you sometimes. If I were her, you would live in that closet," Esme said. "No, I wouldn't. You can't make me do anything." And we were arguing again, just like when we were little. My father died when I was really young, and Esme's parents were divorced, so my mom took me to visit Esme and Aunt Emmeline a lot.

"Stop arguing," Emma said walking into the living room with Annabelle and their friend, Katelyn.

"I'm going to lock you in the closet," I spat at Esme. "No one is locking anyone in anything," Annabelle said. "That's no fun," Esme said sarcastically. I smirked at Esme. "Can't we just lock him in his room?" Esme asked. Annabelle looked at me like she was actually considering it. I laughed. "Actually, I changed the locks. It locks from the inside now," I said. "Peter!" Esme growled. She punched me. "I'm telling on you!" I yelled. "I am calling Ina!" I pulled out my phone.

"Peter, what's wrong? Did you pass out again?" Ina asked urgently. "Esme is being mean to me," I said. Ina sighed. "Calm down. Watch The Phantom of the Opera or something," Ina suggested. "Okay," I said. "I love you, Peter Bear. I will be back Saturday, okay?" Ina said. "Okay. I love you too. Goodbye." Ina said goodbye and hung up.

"I am going to be using the theater to watch The Phantom of the Opera if anyone wants to join me. I will be sitting in the front row, so sit back at least a row or two," I announced.

Watching Phantom of the Opera in the home theater was awesome. It was like going to the movie theater by yourself. Unfortunately, Dr. Kühn called just as Christine stepped through the mirror. Seriously? I thought. I paused the movie. "Hallo? This is Dr. Strauss," I said. "Yes. Hallo. I am just calling to let you know that the surgery on Saturday has been moved up to seven A.M., so you need to be here by four A.M." Yes! That means I would get home three hours early. "Okay. I will change my calendar," I said. "Thanks," Mr. Kühn said hanging up. I called Ina again.

"Peter? What do you need?" she asked. "The surgery on Saturday is now at seven, so I will be home at four instead of seven," I said. "That's great!" Ina exclaimed. "I just got to Soscow. It's eight o'clock here, so I'm getting something to eat. I will call you tomorrow. Do not burn the house down, and don't fight with Esme," said Ina. "Okay. I won't. Bye."

I actually listened to what Ina said. I didn't burn the house down. I've never really set the house on fire, but I did set off all of the smoke alarms on the first floor. That's part of the reason Ina doesn't let me cook anymore.

"I'm hungry," Emma complained. "Why are you telling me? You were there when Ina told me not to do anything in the kitchen without her supervision," I said. "Do you always listen to Ina?" Emma asked. "Yes, I do because I don't enjoy sitting in dark closets alone for six hours." Emma laughed. "I still can't believe you just let her lock you in a closet," she said. "I didn't know she was going to lock me in a closet," I said defending myself. Emma rolled her eyes and left.

Emma must have told Esme she was hungry because an hour later, Esme yelled at me to come downstairs.

"I want to stay up here where it's safe!" I yelled down the stairs. "It won't be safe if you don't get down here!" Esme yelled back. "Okay, okay! I'm coming!" Esme stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me. "I made sausage and cabbage," she told me. She glared at me with her one brown, one green eyes. I thought she was going to punch me again, but she didn't. I couldn't wait until Thursday. Esme left on Thursday. But then I would be alone until Friday night. I hate being alone. I thought about calling Ina again, but that might annoy her. I don't want her to ignore me like everyone else usually does.

I ate my cabbage warily, afraid that Esme poisoned it. I sat across the table from Esme, who was glaring daggers at me. When we were little, Esme found these dolls that looked like me and she hung them. Above my head. So that when I woke up, I would see dead Peter dolls. My mother would be horrified if she knew what Esme did to me. (Poor Pete—Emma) Esme also hung my teddy bear. Esme was really mean to me. She still is.

I heard Esme singing death metal downstairs. "Peter's end drawing near. Ina and Evelyn gasp in fear. Crusty beasty beast. I shalt endeth his days. Head butt, elbow drop, evil chicken lizard. High kick, mega punch. Just in time for brunch!" Esme sang. "Umm...Esme, what are you doing?" I asked. "Singing a new song called 'Peter's End.' It's a new song for my band, Dropkick Peters," Esme declared. "You have a band called Dropkick Peters?!?!" I asked.

"Yeah. Duh. Doesn't everybody?"

"No! No one else has a band called Dropkick Peters! Besides, you are the evil chicken lizard." This time, I was really freaking out. I ordered a Caramel Frappuccino. And I called Ina, but Esme took the phone. She's a meanie.

"Peter? What's wrong now?" Ina asked. "This is Esme. I have Peter tied up in metal chains, dangling over a river. Very high above the river. I will drop him if you don't give me the ransom of ‽1,000,000." (‽ is the Ivan dollar sign, in case you were wondering.)

"What?!?!" Ina yelled. "I'm just kidding. I don't have him tied up and dangling over a river. Yet," Esme said with a smirk. She scares me sometimes. And when I say sometimes, I mean all the time. "Do not even think about it," Ina said. "Too late. I already have this all planned out. I should probably gag him too," Esme said. "I will turn on the security cameras," Ina threatened. "Someone, save me!" I yelled. "You do know I am a professional hacker. I can easily replace the footage," Esme said. "Help!" I screamed. "Don't make me call the police," Ina said. "Save me, Ina!" I yelled. "Shut up, Peter!" Esme hissed. Esme hung up. I wanted to hide in the closet with a Frappuccino now. The doorbell rang, and I ran down the stairs to the front door. Esme beat me to the door. She took my Frappuccino and drank it. My Frappuccino. "This means war!" I yelled. "Ina is in another country, so she can't save you now." Esme laughed. Esme is evil.

I snatched my phone away, and locked myself in my room. Ina texted me in Germonian. Call me, the message said.

"Hallo. Peter, is this you?" Ina asked. "Ja, it's me," I said. Ina sighed. She sounded relieved. "Peter, can you manage until Thursday?" she asked. Ina really sounded worried. "I think so. I'm just worried for when the twins leave. That's when Esme might try something."

"If Esme does anything to you, I will hurt her," Ina threatened. "I'm going to lock my door tonight," I said. "I didn't realize Esme hates you this much," Ina whispered. "Yeah. I guess I am pretty annoying," I said. "I don't think you're annoying," Ina said. "Yes, you do. You just don't want to admit it." Ina sighed again. I don't think I was good for her health. I stressed her out a lot. (You know what not good for your health? Starbucks—Annabelle) Shut up. I'm going to ignore that. Starbucks tastes good, so it must be good for me. Besides, Annabelle, you love Starbucks too. (But I—) No, Annabelle. This chapter is mine. (What are you going to write next?—Annabelle) Umm... (I can write next!—Esme) No!

I turned on The Phantom of the Opera, determined to watch the whole thing without interruptions. (Yeah, like that's going to happen—Esme) Shut up, Esme. (No. I am not leaving—Esme) Yes, you are. You are going to ruin the rest of Annabelle and Emma's childhood like you ruined mine. (Hey!—Esme) If you don't want your feelings hurt, then go away. Ha, ha! Why so silent, Esme? (Shut up, Phanboy) You can't see me, Esme, but I am frowning.

I stayed up late that night studying neurocardiogenic syncope. (Neurocardio-what?—Emma) If you would be quiet, I will tell you. Neurocardiogenic syncope is the syndrome that causes me to pass out so much. Usually self-treatable. Avoid symptom triggers, the article read. Easy, except for the fact that I have a lot of symptom triggers. Once, I had a conference in the N.I.C.S. It was during Halloween. The conference room was decorated with Halloween decorations, and some doctor thought it would be funny to scare me. It was a good thing Ina was there because I passed out.

The next day, after church, I drove Annabelle, Emma, and Katelyn back to the Berlin Academy for Young Adults. Young adults. I was a young adult still. The twins were only fourteen! They will technically be adults in three years and five months, I thought. Wow. They were really growing up fast.

I walked into the house really nervously. "Esme, where are you?" Esme poked her head around a corner. "What do you want?" she asked, pulling off headphones. She must have been listening to her Ivish rock music again. "Just making sure you're not hiding, waiting to kill me." Esme laughed. "I'm not going to kill you. I just torture you." Torturing did not sound like fun. "Um...thanks...I guess. For not killing me. I appreciate that, and Ina does too," I said. Dr. Sherrylina bit me again. "I told you earlier, I'm alive," I told her. Esme rolled her eyes and left. "Goodbye," I called after her. I went to my room and locked the door. Esme was acting innocent then, but she was probably planning something.