A Year Being the Cheerleader

11.

Monday, 3:00am
Dear Olivia,

School is today and I have not slept a bit. I mean, it's senior year and no one has seen me for the entire summer. There's going to be gossip and rumors. No doubt about that. I just hope people don't still come up to me about Kayla's death. In Puerto Rico, there was no such thing named Kayla. We forgot all about her(at least I did), but the mention or even the thought of school triggers her memory. She is two years older than me, but was in senior year because she did a year over. So basically, she was nineteen when she died. It's sad that she wasn't at college or working. Most likely working. She was once a sweet person. Just a regular geek like myself whose main focus was getting good grades and doing well, but she changed by the end of nine grade. She was changing from a way back but nothing drastic. Her grades were dropping from 90s and 100s to late 80s and early 90s along with going out at parties frequently and acting a little more bitchy. Everything was fine until I caught her doing cocaine in the house. From that, everything else just went downhill. Well, that's in the past. It's still dark outside, but I am going to grab my camera and go outside. I will wait until the sun rise and take some pictures. Until then, I will just relax on the backyard patio with a book. So, bye Olivia.

AMBER

In my world, there has always been times when I feel invisible. I have been invisible for so long, I always think I am invisible and it's the first I have realized before I even left over the summer holidays that I am indeed visible. And my nerves are on edge. Immediately as I step in the hallway, everyone's eyes are trained on me. I try to keep focus and ignore those staring at me as I walk down the hall, but it is hard to miss. This moment feels both weird and awkward. The pounding of my heart sounds like the loudest thing in the hallway, second to my breathing. I make my way to the locker trying to avoid making any eye contact. Right at this moment, I am sorry I put my hair into its regular ponytail this morning. It would have been a good cover if my hair was let go. Just as I shut my locker door after taking out my books, I was frightened by seeing someone behind it.

"Shit!" I mutter clutching my chest.

"Good morning to you too," he says with what I presume to be a smile. "I haven't seen you from morning. Were you late?"

"Not really," I shrug feeling the holes in my skin lessen. "Just on time. I got caught up in taking photographs."

He raises an eyebrow at me, before slowly a genuine smile grace his features.

"I thought photography was 'a waste of time'?" He says quoting my exact words at our eighth grade trip.

"It is," I say flatly. "if you don't have time to waste, but I do... or rather did."

"Okay, ma'am," I roll my eyes at him. "After you." He bows me inside the classroom making some kids pass curious glances our way.

"I'm surprised that you aren't killing me about only answering your calls twice during summer-" I pause as we pass Ramona and her minions to our seats. "And only called you twice when I arrived and send you a text when you didn't answer."

"Oh," he begins as our butts finally land in our seats. "Just wanted to give you time to rest, but I will get my time to question you."

He gives me a wolfish grin with a wink, but before I could press on the matter the teacher comes in with a smirk.

"Hello students," he smirks even wider as he stands at his desk. "I am your English teacher, Mr. Longmore."

A/N: Thanks for reading. Mr. Longmore has a significance in the story, so hopefully I won't change my mind about how I want the story to be later on. Anyways, please show your support by voting and tell me what you think about the story.

1999beauty
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