No one could ever guess that Hero Anastos was of Greek origin, after all Greeks usually had brown hair and olive skin. Hero was a pale girl with eyes that looked more Asian than Greek – unless you saw her when she was nine, then she looked full-on Grecian. When next to her family, one would guess she was adopted – sometimes she thinks so, too.
Presently, Hero sat in the crowded car with a brother on each side and two more spread in the back with bickering parents arguing over directions. She had been in the vehicle for ten straight hours and she was pulling her hair out at how crazy they drove her. Nik, her older brother who opted out of college, was laughing obnoxiously at a Disney movie; Nemo, the youngest Anastos at the age of two, was currently throwing things around the car; and Alex was tugging strands of her hair to see how long it would take before she turned around. It didn’t take long; Hero spun around and grasped Alex’s hand in a tight grip, seething.
“You’re the bastard of the family.” She hissed at him, too low to be heard by her parents, and Alex snickered despite himself.
“And you’re the outcast.” Reminded Hercules, the last of her brothers, as he leaned forward and flicked Hero on the forehead.
“Shut up, you’re named after a mistake.”
“What can I say, Herculeses can break through the Trojan Wall.” Hercules shrugged and the false brunette rolled her eyes.
“Um, Les, Hercules wasn’t in the Trojan War.” Six-year old Alex said and Hercules’ eye twitched.
After that, it was a madhouse. Everyone was at each others’ throats. Hercules was arguing with Alex about Hercules part in the Trojan War, the Anastos parents’ argument escalated and the father of the circus family claimed he was going to “turn this car around right now” which irked Hero whom began lecturing her father. Nemo began to cry loudly and Nik was complaining and yelling at everybody for interrupting the ending of Ariel. This continued for a few more miles, with a few swerving and swearing involved, when finally, over all the noise, Papa Anastos announced:
“We are here! We are here! Shut the hell up!” And everyone was silent, even Baby Nemo. In this silence they continued, unpacking everything that belonged to Hero until the car was empty. When finished, her brothers hopped into the car without so much of a goodbye and made taunting faces through the window.
Have fun at college, glyké mou.” Her mother called whilst also loading into the passenger seat with Papa Anastos right behind her, echoing the same sentiment.
“You guys are technically horrible parents.” Hero told them.
“That’s an opinion, not a fact.” Chimed Mama Anastos.
The now college student watched as the car sped away, not even a pang in her heart because she knew she would get sick of them when they visited anyways. Picking up her suitcases – all three of them – and balancing them variously in her hands. She had to drag them to the lobby with continuous thumps against her heel. Beyond annoyed, she wanted this to go by as fast as she could when she arrived to the counter. Immediately when the woman looked up at her, she scowled and said as firmly as she could:
“Hero Anastos.”
The woman arched her brow at the attitude but nevertheless retrieved the information. “Room 203, next time you come down here, maybe you could put on a good attitude.”
“I would, but I don’t listen to people who scored a job as a lobbyist at a college.” Snatching the key from the woman’s hand, she marched to the elevator and arrived to the dorm.
Someone had already moved into the dorm, but Hero gave no thought about it. She dumped her bags at the foot of the bed and collapsed into the empty mattress, prepared to not move for a few minutes or hour.
“Hm, that lobbyist might actually be an office worker…”
