What Makes Us Beautiful

Lytie Thomas officially hates her life. Her mom sent her and her three younger siblings away to live with her cousin (spoiler alert, the cousin is the famous Harry Styles). All Lytie wants is to play football, eat some pizza, and maybe read a book. What she wants, is to see her older brothers again. Her biggest wish of all? To see her broken family together again. The question is? How can she do it all when she's so alone?


1. July 31st

     Last night, Adam, Amiree and Austen each gave me a new notebook. This one, the one from Austen, is the one I'll use for a new journal. It's my favorite of the three. It's smaller than a regular notebook but big enough to write in. The notebook has brown leather covering and a little leather latch thingy. So, dear Journal (I absolutely refuse to sound like Becka and call this a 'Diary'), if you are ever wondering what you look like, that is it. The thick notebook that Amiree gave me will be for my next book, as I'm sure I'll have plenty of spare time at Harry's. The story book actually looks like a book. A solid black hardback about as thick as The Fault in Our Stars, with lined paper inside. The third notebook, the one from Adam, is a super-thick camo green spiral with no lines. Perfect for writing football plays. I can't wait to show them what I've made up when I see them again. I've already done four plays, and I'm obviously using the Journal. I haven't come up with a story idea yet. Maybe there will be some inspiration in London.


     I should probably start with who I am. Every journal I've ever read starts with an intro. I don't see why, you'll be the only one reading it. I'm keeping this Journal to show my kids one day, I've always kept a secret Journal for this reason. Maybe I'll show this to my brothers too, to show them what I did with Harry in London. Maybe not. It's one thing to let them read my stories, but a whole different story to let them read my personal life and my thoughts. Of course, they already know most of them. My brothers actually know pretty much everything about me. They know all of my hopes and dreams (NFL quarterback and Famous author), who I idolize (The Beatles, Elvis Presley, One Direction, Martin Luther King Jr., JFK, anyone who's ever played for the Ravens or the Razorbacks, and them), my favorite colors (camo green, navy, red, purple, brown, and gold), my favorite foods (everything but mainly pizza), and despite how embarrassing this is, they also know when I get my period (long story, it involved Becka yelling through the house how excited she was that I had become a woman). Anything you want to know about me, ask them. Of course, you don't need to ask them anything, Journal, because I'm telling you everything I have ever told or ever will tell them. Of course it's not like you could walk up to them and say "Hey, what does Lytie do in her spare time?" because, duh, you're a Journal, therefore you cant walk or talk. So really no need. But, I'll do the cheesy intro thing anyway.


         My name is Adelyte Edelweiss Thomas, but if you call me that, there's a pretty good chance you'll end up with a black eye. All I've ever been called is Lytie. I'm thirteen, I have a mom and a dad and ten siblings. Naturally, I look nothing like any of them. I am the only one with wavy auburn hair (red in the summer, light brown in the winter), hazel eyes (everyone else has blue eyes, except for Ahana and Andy, who have brown, and the twins, who have green), and I am the only one with freckles. All. Over. My. Face. Most people don't believe that I'm even related to them. If anything, I look more like Aunt Debra than anyone else (keep in mind, Journal, that Aunt Debra is dad's mom's sister). Not like I care. I'm used to being different. When I was younger, I was nicknamed Fireball, Flamehead, pretty much anything to do with fire, because my hair was the color of flames. Luckily it's darkened since then. I'm the only kid in middle school with ten siblings. Out of all of them, only three of my siblings are girls. 


     Alex the oldest, is twenty. He joined the military the second he got out of high school. When he turned nineteen they sent him to Afghanistan, and we try and Skype as much as we can. Mom loved Alex. Everyone does. He's just likable. He has brown hair that's now short an military style, but it looks great on him. His eyes are blue, a bright blue that seem to smile no matter what. And his personality. I love Alex's personality, and I wish I was more like him so badly. Alex always knows what to do, what to say. And he's never in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mom was crushed when he said he didn't want to go to college, that he wanted to join the Army like our dad instead. I understood completely, we had all been raised on the military life. I was only three months old when we moved to Cheshire, England, and six when we moved to Germany. The closest thing to America I've ever known was the military. My brothers and I know every weapon there is, how to use it, if its a gun or tank  what kind of bullets it takes, how much power it has, anything you need to know about guns, we know. Anything you need to know about war, we know. Anything that has anything to do with the military, we know. That's how we were raised. Dad was gone all the time when we were little, he was in Iraq when I was two and three quarters and didn't come back till I was six and a half. The twins were a month old when he left. We had always wanted to travel and protect people, and my brothers and I were jealous when Alex got the chance too. Of course, Mom had Alex's life olanned ahead if him. He was to go to college, become a doctor and cure cancer and then be a loving son and give all of his money to his aging mother. She hates him now, just because he wanted to control his future. But I love him.


          Alton is the second oldest, he's relatively like Alex, but more rebellious. Alton has the same brown hair as Alex, but a bit longer, just long enough to borderline too long for Army regulations. Alton is in Afghanistan with Alex. Alton joined the Army to rebel against Mom's plan for his future, which was the same as Alex's, except Alton was to become a lawyer. Alton has the same blue eyes, but his are full of mystery and trouble. He's always been considered the troublemaker of the family, I've heard Mom calling him the bad seed. He's the one who plans all of our pranks, our 'schemes' as Mom calls them. We prefer to call them 'plans of entertainment'. 


          Adam, the third one, is eighteen, and a senior is high school. He hasn't decided yet what he wants to do after he graduates. He'll probably join the Army like his brothers. Adam is called the Funny Guy, or, as Mom says, 'That' child (I'm sure its pretty clear by now that I am against every single one of my mothers opinions). Adam has the same brown hair as Alex and Alton (we call it Thomas Brown), that kind of sticks up everywhere in the front. The back is kind of just there. He has the Thomas Blue eyes, and his-like the rest of us-tell you his personality. His eyes kind of sparkle, in a way that makes you think he'll do something funny or stupid at any moment. And usually, he does.


     Amiree, the fourth, is seventeen, and totally the flirt. He has the Thomas Brown hair that falls down his forehead and makes all the girls fall for him, especially with his Thomas Blue eyes peeking out from underneath. They kind of at first make you think he's saying 'Hey baby, you're lookin' sexy', but if you take the time to look at         him-which most people don't-he's really saying 'I'm young and flirty, but I really want one girlfriend to love for years. I'm kind of lonely sometimes, because all girls pretend to like me because they think I'm hot, so all I have to love is my family'. Which is really sad, when you see him that way. But nobody expects that, because of his womanizer looks and that smirky grin that makes a girls knees weak. Another thing about Amiree that only I and the rest of my older brothers know; He's still a virgin. Sure, he's a hot teenage boy with pretty girls at his every turn, but he wants to wait for that special girl, he wants to wait until he's married. All of my big brothers do. So do I. He'll come home after. Date at the movies or something telling us about how the girl tried to make a move on him. Yeah, he dates around, but only because he's looking for that one girl. He says that he doesn't want to sit and wait for the perfect girl to just walk by, he wants to go out and look for her, like a real gentleman would. Pretty deep, coming from the kid who cried watching Rocky |V ("His best friend died! He was his mentor, his friend, and Rocky blames himself for his friends death!"). Aren't I crazy, Journal? Talking about my big brother's love life? If you were able to think, you'd probably be thinking; How does she know so much about her brothers and their personal lives? Well, Journal, I'll tell you; we're best friends. Besides, every boy needs a girl to talk to and confide in. My mom is so far out of the picture that she's on another freakin planet. And I'm on a plane to London right now. Becka? Never in a million years. Ahana? Maybe, but they're bot near as close to her as they are to me. And Ailynn is definitely out, being only ten. Which leaves me. 



 Annabeck, the oldest girl, is sixteen. She's my mother's pride and joy. Becka's super popular, gets good grades without even trying, is on the cheer squad, and her closet is full of pink. It's unbelievably obvious that she's Moms favorite. And why shouldn't she be? She's the oldest girl in a family of seven boys and a disappointment (me). Becka looks just like Mom too. She has brown hair that's shiny and curly and dark enough to look black sometimes. She has the Mom's Blue eyes, different from the Thomas Blue, that have a sort of satisfaction in them. Her skin is perfect, and she's beautifully tanned. Her makeup always looks just right, and her clothes are stylish (and only Becka can get away with looking that slutty all the time).          Ahana, the second oldest girl, was fifteen. She was everyone's favorite, and she was the only sister I really loved. She had blonde hair that was always in a braid down her back. her brown eyes melted your soul. You knew just looking at her that she was kind and put everyone before herself, but she could also do whatever she set her mind to do. Except for one thing that she couldn't do, no matter how hard she tried. Why am I saying 'was', Journal? Because, dear Journal, my sister is dead. Ahana was diagnosed with osteosarcoma when she was nine. I was seven. The cancer took her right arm, and she was cancer-free for a few years. But we all knew what was coming. The thing about osteosarcoma, and I can never say it right, so I will use the words of an author who can. Osteosarcoma will take a limb, and if it likes the taste, comes for the rest of you.  She was suffering for six long months, until finally, three months ago yesterday, her heart stopped beating. Would you like to know the worst part, Journal? She was cheerful. The. Whole. Dang. Time. My sister was dying of cancer, and she was always smiling. And when we all knew that she would be dead any minute, the first thing she said was "I'll miss you all, but hey, look on the bright side! There will be more space in our bedroom!" Because that is the only bright side if your sister dying. And it's never even been a bright side. The night she died, I remember sitting on my bed for hours, while Ailynn was sleeping with Aerynn, and Becka was up watching The Bachelor with Mom, staring at her empty bed. I was waiting for Ahana to come in and sleep there. I thought she wasn't dead. It was just a dream. A week later, was one of the extremely rare occasions where I was actually home alone all day. It occurred to me around noon that day that Ahana would have dance in an hour, and that was when it really hit me. I knew she was dead, but then I realized that she would never have dance class in an hour ever again. She would never again be there to stop fights between me or the boys and Becka. She would never grow old and get married and have kids. It was then I broke down sobbing. I crawled onto Alex's bed, and cried. She was really gone. And there was nothing. I. Could. Do. About. It. And that, dear Journal, is the worst part about your sister dying.           But, back on topic. Austen, the seventh, is fourteen. He's noticed the least of the boys, not being really younger and still younger than the others. But since he's only a year older than me, we connect more than we do with the rest of the boys. Austen has the Thomas Brown hair that kind of is just there. I can't really explain it, but it kind of sticks up everywhere but still kind of lays down. He has Thomas Blue eyes that make you smile. They look fun and happy, and caring. Everything Austen is. Austen loves his family. By family, I mean brothers me and Ahana. He's always been protective of us, and I love him for it.          The twins are ten. Aerynn and Ailynn. Ailynn is ten minutes older, but you would never know that. Aerynn is the leader of the two, loud and obnoxious, while Ailynn is quiet and far less annoying that Aerynn. They both look Cousin Harry. Ailynn's long brown hair travels halfway down her back in curls, and usually Ahana or I will braid it into some fancy hairdo. That's one of my hobbies; doing hair. I love to braid hair, fishtail, half, waterfall, french, etc. Ailynn's green eyes tell you that she's shy and mischievous. Aerynn looks like Harry's twin. He has curly brown hair that falls around his face, and piercing green eyes that say 'I cause trouble wherever I go, I'm gonna accomplish great things, and have all the girls fall for me when I'm older'. The twins are pretty much connected at the hip, never one without the other.          Andy's not least but hopefully the last. He's five, and looks just like a mini Niall Horan. Blonde hair, brown roots, and it stuck up everywhere. The only difference was Andy's brown eyes that looked just like Ahana's. He was only five, and was always attached to me or Austen. He lisped still,  and shared my freckles, but his were lighter, they blended in better. He was always curious, asking me questions. He wanted to be jut like me. Why me, Journal? I'll never know. I guess I pay more attention to him than anyone else.          I guess that's the end of the introductions, Journal. My parents aren't really much to talk about. They probably won't even be in you at all. Mom decided to send all of the kids away to 'cope with the loss of an angel'. The older kids got lucky, sent back to Arkansas, where we're all from. Andy, the twins and I are currently on a plane. We're on our way to London, to live with our cousin Harry and his boyband. Ten guesses who the boyband is, Journal. That's right, Journal. One Direction. And my cousin is Harry Styles. THE Harry Styles. And I have to live with him. I haven't even seen him since I was six. We still email and stuff, but we don't really talk like we used to.  Andy's never even met Harry. Not like the twins actually remember him, either. Which, of course, makes it ten times worse to go live with your superstar cousin that you don't even remember and have never met his best friends-who you'll also be living with.  The plane is landing, Journal. I will have to get back later.       Later          I'm sitting in my new room right now writing this. I hope that I can write this all down before I fall asleep.        I stepped off the plane and the first thing I saw was the sunlight. The twins ran towards the baggage claim, and Andy was attached to my leg. The twins ran around grabbing the suitcases (one for each of us), while I started to figure out where we were supposed to go. We walked out of the gate and I began to look around for cousin Harry. I figured he's probably be surrounded by screaming girls, so I was pretty surprised when a young man walked up to me. "Are you Lytie?" A deep, slow, British voice asks. I hesitantly nod. Andy clutches my arm, and for once the twins stand silent behind me. The young man in front of me was tall, with sunglasses on and a black hood pulled up over his head. The man looks around, then slowly pulls his sunglasses down, just low enough for me to glimpse a familiar set of green eyes. Harry. He grins, and beckons for me to follow him. He leads me to a black Sedan, and tells us to get in.         The ride to Harry's house isn't near as quiet as I though it would be. Aerynn continues to reach across me to poke Andy, while Ailynn slaps Aerynn's arm, mouthing "STOP IT", when finally Harry says; "Are you happy to be here?" We all shrug. The four of us would all much rather be with the other Thomas kids in Arkansas with our relatives, but at the same time, we're glad to be away from our mom. At last, Aerynn speaks up, "Do they play football here?" Harry replies "Of course. I didn't know you kids were into football." "Duh!" Ailynn says "We love football! It's the greatest!" "Cool! Who's your favorite team?"  "Harry," I say "They mean American football. Tackle. With the touchdowns and the shoulder pads and the Superbowl." And I swear, Journal, that Harry Styles' face falls all the way to Tartarus to meet Percy and Annabeth (yes, Journal. I do read those books). "Oh. Well, we play here what you call soccer." He says, suddenly grumpy. I know Andy loves soccer. Ahana used to play it, I played when I was little during the off season, and my brothers and I all know the rules and how to play the game. We're not exactly fans, but we enjoy playing and know how. But I don't tell Harry that.        Harry pulls into a driveway, and I can tell already that for once we'll all have our own rooms. The house isn't huge, but it's bigger than average. We all grab our suitcases and follow Harry into the house.  "We're back!" Harry calls. Pounding comes from every corner of the house. "HARREH!!" Louis Tomlinson shouts, tackling Harry in a hug. Liam Payne follows. Zayn Malik stands there and rolls his eyes at his idiot friends. Niall Horan (my favorite member, yes Journal, I am a huge One Direction fan. Do you see how awkward my life is?) kind of stands off to the side, seemingly shy.  "Geroff!" Harry grunts, pushing Louis and Liam away.         "Lads, this is Lytie. She's..." Harry trails off. "Thirteen." I say "and this is Aerynn and Ailynn, they're ten, and Andy's five" I pull Andy away from me.  "We've heard a lot about you kids. Welcome to London." Liam crouches in front of Andy. "Hi, I'm Liam." He says with a smile. Andy hides behind me, clutching Beevey, his stiffed wombat that he got when he was one (we thought it was a beaver, hence Beevey). Liam frowns a bit and stands back up.  "Do you wanna see your rooms?" Zayn asked. We nodded. He leads us up the stairs to a hallway.        "Your rooms are at the end." He said to the twins. To me he pointed at the door closest to the stairs. Andy's room is right next to mine. I stepped into my room, alone at last, but at the same time a bit freaked. All the same, I beganto take in my surroundings while I unpack.         I put my clothes in the dresser, unload my books on the shelf, and decide to finish later. The room is bigger than one I've ever had, but that could be that I'm used to seeing three other beds in a room. The bed is brown wood with a forest green quilt over it. The dresser, desk, and bookshelves are the same wood as the bed. There are three windows, two facing the front of the house and one facing the side. Three walls are a slightly lighter green than the bedspread, and one wall really catches my attention. It's been painted like the woods. I feel as if I could walk right into the wall and become a part of the trees. Did Harry remember how much I love being in the woods, or is this just a coincidence? I open the closet door. Luckily it's half shelves. I never use the hangers for closets, those are for Becka. Near the  ground on the hanger side, is a large grate, probably big enough to fit me.         "Time for dinner!" Harry called up the stairs. The twins barreled down the stairs, Andy and I following. "Are those rooms all ours?" Aerynn asked Harry. "Of course. Why wouldn't they be?" He replied.  "Wow." He looked at Ailynn. "We've never had a room to ourselves before!" Ailynn said. Louis looked surprised. "Never?" The twins shrugged. I walked up behind them. "We're the youngest of eleven. What makes you think we could ever DREAM of having our own rooms?" Zayn spit his drink on Liam.  "ELEVEN?" He said over Andy and the twins' giggles. I shrugged and nodded. His eyes go wide.  "How many brothers do you have now, four?" Harry asked me.  "Counting them?" I gestured to Aerynn and Andy "Seven." "That's.....three sisters!" Liam said, wiping Zayn's water off his face. "Yeah. It doesn't really seem like that many when you see us all together." "And you're the youngest?" Niall asked.  "Yeah." Andy tugged on my arm. "What'th for dinner?" He asked "Cereal." Zayn answered. Andy shrinks behind me.  "Um.... Why?" Ailynn asked. Louis looks at her from the cabinets. "Why not? What'd you want?" "Do you have Chex Mix?"  "Sure." Louis looked at me, pulling like, twelve boxes of cereal from the cabinet. "Why not? What'd you want?" "Do you have Chex Mix?"  "Sure." Louis looked at me, pulling like, twelve boxes of cereal from the cabinet. "Frosted Flakes. And Andy wants Honey Nut Cheerios." Louis tossed me the boxes and gestured to the stack of bowls on the counter.          That's all today's events, I guess. Besides, Journal, I'm tired. I guess this is the end of my entry.... So..... yeah...... Goodnight, Journal


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