The Dimple Project [Camp NaNoWriMo 2015]

O N E

I wake up to the sound of my wonderful mom humming away in the kitchen and the coffee machine churning the coffee beans away. My stepdad is sneaking down the stairs when I get up to go to the bathroom and I suspect that he is going to give my mom a morning surprise as usual. Hearing her yelp a minute later, he had succeeded.

Since my parents always make me wake up at five in the morning (even though they're not usually there to check up on me anyway), two hours earlier than school, I have enough time for a run and a shower. That's right, a run. My parents are crazy doctors who makes their kid run every morning because it's apparently good for me. That's why you never want doctors for parents. I slip on a pair of comfy leggings and a thin sweater, stretching on my way down the stairs.

My run is short lived since the weather is terribly freezing due to it being the middle of December. Georgia doesn't usually have snow but this year, a miracle--or rather a curse--was cast onto this lonely middle-of-nowhere place. I'm more of a rainy, cool day type of person.

I take a short shower after the run and dry my hair off while brushing my teeth. After getting dressed in a t-shirt and carefully maneuvering the first pants I could reach for so that it wouldn't hurt my leg, I slip out of my room and run down the stairs quickly so they wouldn't find out that my leg was still hurting. I go to the kitchen table where I find my backpack lying on one of the chairs. My mom is in her apron flipping a piece of french toast and my step-dad is reading the newspapers. We say our good mornings and I grab a plate in one hand and by backpack in another, sitting across him.

"Breakfast is served," My mom smiles down at me and places a piece onto my plate she does the same for my step-dad who places his newspaper down. I grab the pitcher of syrup and smother the whole thing in sugary gooey-ness and cut the piece of bread up with my knife, happily eating even if my face doesn't show it. My parents look at me in disgust, making a crude comment about how unhealthy it is and how, when I grow up, I'm going to be getting heart attacks early.

*Bing* I check my phone.

You have a text message. I slide a finger across the screen, the phone coming to life as I look at the message.

I'm here. -Oliver

I put the phone down, walking to the sink while eating the rest of my french toast. "I'm getting a ride from Oliver today, no need to give me a ride to school." I say through the breaks of chewing.

"Is Oliver a girl or a boy?" My step-dad asks, his fork digging into the french toast. Even if he is just my step-dad, he cares for my well-being and relationship a lot. It seems he doesn't pay enough attention because Oliver has been my best friend even before my mother remarried.

"Girl," I reply and throw my plate into the sink. "I'm leaving now."

"Have a wonderful day, honey," My mom shouts before I open the door.

Oliver drives one of those cars you usually see your parents drive. A simple, silver Toyota. She waves and I wave back and open the passenger seat. She was still looking at my house in awe. That's what I love about Oliver. She isn't afraid to show what she's feeling. I, with my dead leg, hop into the car.

"Awesome house. What do your parents do again?" She asks. "And what's with your leg?"

"Doctors. We own a hospital. I fell," I tell her. She nods her head and backs out of my driveway, heading to school. The parking lot is absolutely packed but we manage to find a space towards the middle and head for the doors of jail.

I have my first class with Oliver so we walk there together. Oliver is probably the only friend I have, not including Henry and semi-Jeremy. I don't have the ability to make friends with this face and personality of mine but for some reason, Oliver found it interesting and amusing. Oliver turns her head and looks around her.