Adopted By Zoella | WATTYS 2017

Chapter 1 | Olivia

I drag my feet along the cobbled pavement outside my school, as the summer sun beats down on us from above. I didn't know Brighton could be so warm. I sigh and listen to Hope rant about her math teacher, Mrs Matthews, because she gave Hope's class homework to do over the summer holidays.

My maths teacher Miss Lockley quit two weeks ago, the reason still unknown.

Oh, I forgot to mention, school has finished for seven weeks. Also, Hope is my best friend. We do everything together, but we couldn't be more different from each other. Hope is eccentric and free willed; literally the opposite of me. I like to read and be alone, but Hope, on the other hand, lit a match in the school basements and set Melissa Irvin's backpack on fire. Of course the fire alarm went of and Hope got into trouble, but she told the school it was an accident and they believed her. Well, at least Melissa wasn't hurt.

"Olivia? Olivia!" Hope shouts.

"Yes?" I reply hazily, I guess I wasn't paying attention.

"I need to go." Hope points to her Mum's car.

"Oh, okay." I reply in a daydream.

Hope skips off to her mothers range rover and I walk alone.

My phone rings and I reach into my blazer pocket. It's my sister Rosalind. I hit answer. She tells me that she will be home late and dinner is in the fridge.

Great, microwaveable macaroni.

Apparently some customer has ended up with green hair. I decide it's for the best if I don't ask what's going on.

By the time I get home the air is starting to cool down. I open the front door to our house and there's only me and an eerie silence. The only thing I can hear is the waves crashing on the rocks. I love living next to the beach.

But home has never been the same since my parents died. They died in 2012 in a tragic train accident, a crash. Since Ro is ten years older than me, it was decided she should take care of me. Ro is 23 and I am 13 but she is one of my best friends.

I take my macaroni out of the freezer and put it in for 7 minutes. How to kill 7 minutes. Hmph. I walk to my bedroom on the second floor. I slow down as I pass my parent's old room. I turn the door handle and walk inside. The room still smells of my mother's old perfume and my father's aftershave. I place my school bag down onto the polished wood floor and walk over to the left-hand side of the bed. I pick up the photo frame that stands on the glass and look at it.

The picture is of my father, my mother, my sister and I. It was taken when we went to Canada in 2010. Wow, 7 years ago already? I clutch the photo frame and sit on the edge of the bed. I love this room. My sister refused to take anything out of it or change anything. I thank her for that.

Just when I am about to get lost in my train of thought, the microwave dings. Wow, I was daydreaming for a long time. I put the frame back on the table and pick up my bag. I exit the room slowly and quietly. I just do it out of respect.  I clamber back downstairs and check my phone. Nothing from Ro. That's strange, the customer must have some wild hair. I text her asking when she'll be back and resume to the kitchen.

I open the microwave and get attacked by an ocean of steam. I waft the air out of my face and pick up the plastic box. I close the microwave and place the macaroni onto the counter. I kick my school bag over to the corner of the room and get a plate out of the cupboard.

I sit at the table and start eating. I check my phone again for any messages. Nothing, and its 18:32. Ro's shift finished at 15:45 but she said she'd be home late. I didn't think it would be this late though.

But I guess work at the salon was always unpredictable.