I was hoping that her saying the name would jog my memory somehow, help me realize who I was and figure out what kind of situation I was in, but I had no such luck. Tanner Adams? That name didn't have any more importance to me than "John Smith". At least I did get some specific information about my age and what I was supposed to be doing, though.
"Tanner?" I repeated my name back, making sure I heard it right.
"Yes, Tanner," the voice said, this time a little more gruff. I could tell that whoever was talking was losing their patience. They also seemed to be an adult male. I decided to just play along with the situation for now, figuring things out as I went along.
"Oh, right," I said. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little tired."
"Whatever. Listen, you've got twenty minutes before the bus gets here. Go ahead and get dressed, and I'll have breakfast waiting downstairs." The light switch flipped on suddenly, and I winced and shielded my eyes, which were not yet ready for the sudden change. "And step on it!"
As I finally got my vision back, I saw the figure of a tall man with dark hair walking out the door, letting it come to a moderately-loud slam behind him. I began to look around the room, trying to get a sense of my surroundings. The room was moderately large for only holding one child, and seemed to be decorated fairly sparsely, with only a few posters of on the walls, seemingly of some sort of Japanese anime or video game. A bookshelf to my left held several shelves worth of trophies, all with some sort of sporting equipment miniaturized and cast in gold on top of them. The desk and table surfaces, along with the floor, were all cluttered with papers, boxes, books, magazines, clothes, and various other items. It sure looked like a twelve-year old boy's room, that was for sure, but nothing in it particularly caught my attention or looked familiar in any kind of way.
Shrugging, I threw off the covers I had been lying under and eased out of bed. I looked down, noticing I had been sleeping only in a pair of black boxer-briefs. Looking at my body for the first time that morning, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I seemed to be in good physical shape, with a lean body and the beginning stages of muscles in my chest and stomach. A medium-sized mirror was on the wall near my bed, so I went over to it and examined myself, liking what I saw. My face was still boyish, my skin smooth, but I had a good-sized nose and lips, with ears that didn't stand out too much. My eyes were a bright, almost dazzling blue color, and I flashed a smile, impressed by my pearly whites. Up top, my hair was blonde and somewhat short, but with enough length to work with if I wanted to style it. I didn't know exactly what I should be comparing it too, since I couldn't remember if this was indeed how I was supposed to look, but I liked what I saw, and I wasn't going to complain. My eyes traveled further down my reflection in the mirror, back to my torso. I flexed a little, seeing those aforementioned pecs and abs get a little more pronounced for the short time that I did, and slight bulges forming in my arms.
Satisfied for the time being, I walked over to what appeared to be my closet, opening the door. Inside were two racks: one full of shirts and jackets, and the other full of pants and shorts. I realized that I didn't even know what to dress for: whether it was fall, winter, or spring, and whether or not my school had a dress code. As I looked closer, however, I saw five polo shirts, three dark navy blue and two bright white ones, each of which had a logo of what appeared to be a bird on fire embroidered on them, with the words "Lakewood Middle School" beneath the logo. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was what I should be wearing, so I pulled out a white shirt, and slipped it on over my torso. Looking at the other rack, I didn't see anything that stood out as being part of the uniform, so I just hedged my bets and grabbed a dressy-looking pair of khaki slacks and a black belt.
A few minutes later, I finally was fully dressed (save for shoes, which I didn't find and I assumed were waiting for me downstairs), and I left the room. My bedroom seemed to be at the end of a rather long hall, and I slowly made my way to the other end, where a set of stairs were waiting. As I passed by some of the doors, I looked in to them, seeing (in order): a bathroom (which, judging by the towels, toothbrushes, and brightly-colored decor, was shared by at least three kids), two other bedrooms (one with dark blue wallpaper and one with bright pink wallpaper, but both extremely spic and span), and a nicely-furnished study/library with over half-a-dozen wooden bookshelves and two computer desks across from each other, both with very large-screened iMacs on them. Whatever kind of family I was going to find myself a part of, money didn't seem to be a problem.
As I walked down the stairs, I finally got a clue of what kind of family I was a part of, as a series of family portraits lined the walls. The family portraits started with a picture of a man and woman in their twenties (I guessed they were my parents), with a baby on the woman's lap. Unfortunately, the baby was too young for me to tell whether or not it was me or someone else, or whether or not it was even a boy or a girl (it was dressed in a neutral-colored white outfit, so that didn't help). The next portrait was of the same three people, all older, and the baby had changed into a young blonde-haired boy, probably not even four years old, wearing a shirt and tie. I wagered a guess that the boy was me, and the next portrait confirmed it, when the group of three became a group of five. The older boy in the portrait matched the face I had seen in the mirror earlier, perhaps five or six years younger than I was now, while two younger kids, what looked to be a twin boy and girl each around two years old, stood on a block in the middle of the family. The last portrait had to be recent, as I looked to be around twelve, and the twins were each around eight, both with light-brown hair and green eyes.
The series of portraits had given me more info on my family, sure, but I still didn't feel like I actually knew them. I had no idea of the names of my mom, dad, or siblings, and I had no memory of what they would be like. I took a deep breath, ready to try to further unravel the mysteries, when something strange and completely unexpected happened.
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