Liam Griffin

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That girl from last night. I can't stop replaying her honeyed voice and hot temper. It was like playing with a ball of fire knowing, it can burn you. I came to that park in my neighborhood and never once saw a girl like her there. Or anyone for that matter. Always so quiet and serene by myself that I was jealous to share the silence with her. I felt an odd pull to her. She asked for my name. I never got her own. How stupid can I be?

For all I know, she can be a spy planning to corrupt my brain or something. Sci-fi movies are getting to me nowadays. I've never talked with someone without saying many words like her. I'm not crazy over this girl that I met twenty-four hours ago. I know my way around relationships. But, it was only one girl I have ever dated. She was very self-centered.

I ignored the warning signs because I didn't want to end high school without any experience. Her name was Chelsey. A straight-A student. Her mother is a business attorney. She has a wealthy family. I think that's why my father approved of her. We broke up in the early months of my senior year. She didn't want to be seen with me anymore. Things like that are the reason why I have to keep my head in the game. A good job that makes money comes first.

I'm a hard worker some, would say. I study and never miss a test or class. My father goes to work every morning until late at night. He works with business colleagues to mentor about investments, etc. I get up every school morning like today. My feet felt cold.

I opened the shutters and picked up some of my boxers and hoodies from the ground. I put away my boxers in the laundry basket with my smelly clothes. Monday is a slow day for me. On my way to the bathroom, I stepped on one of the many wet socks I left in the corner. The hot beach babes in those magazines are to die for.

"Shit," I back up and throw it in the laundry basket.

I shower and wear a white uniform tee and my green hoodie with black jeans. I push my feet into my timberlands. My hands ran through the strands of black hair to make it messy. The real reason I dyed it is because I wanted to look different than my father and West. The way they boasted about West to the neighborhood made me look bad. I take my glasses out of the case to put them on. Someday I wish I grew a proper beard that makes the ladies stare.

Today I was going to wear my jacket. It came to mind that I gave it away to the panda girl. My whole closet is mostly hoodies and barely anything presentable. On the way downstairs, I watch my brother's room that is closed. He rarely visits whenever he finds something new to show off. I kick his door. The kick hurt me more than it did the door. I held my foot as I hopped down the stairs. Passed his room is my mother's room. Nobody goes there or opens that door. Everything was gone and moved to her place.

That place I hate for her being there. I grabbed an apple, not wanting to have a conversation with my father. He had a newspaper open and glasses at the bridge of his nose. "Morning, Son. Any word from your work application at that new business I got you into?" He put down the newspaper to look me in the eye.

No matter the days he spends at work, it won't erase the loving look he always gave Mom. He's sitting at the dining table farthest from the kitchen. There's a smell of pure black coffee. My father's golden brown hair is turning to grey strands. I got the job. The bad part is that I don't want to take it. That job isn't something I would enjoy doing.

"I can't talk right now. I'll let you know another time, Dad. I've got an exam today," I lied. I finish eating the apple. My hair tousled. I zipped my coat. I slip my backpack on.

The front door closed behind me. The sun is bright. The weather is freezing still. This weather won't make up its mind. West and my father have a nice ride. I'm stuck with an old bike name petunia. She's been through hail, rain, heat. I let my feet hit the stopper. I get on my bike and push off on the route to school. I wonder if I'll ever see that girl with the braids again.

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