Hollis
"Hollis!!! Up!"
It was the first day of ninth grade, and I was not in a good mood. I hate waking up early. And having a sister a year younger than you, but is still in the same grade (my parents kept me back as a Kindergarten Redshirt), and combine that with the fact of her her being a major morning person, just... ugh.
"Shut up, Faith," I call back to her.
My name is Hollis (curse those parents of mine). I hate my first name, so I go by my middle name, James. The only people who refuse to call me that are Faith and one of her best friends, Meredith. I never hang out with my sister and her friends (well, what guy wants to hang out with his younger sister and her nerdy friends?). My full name is Hollis James Rivers. I've only got one sibling--Faith--and she's one year younger than me. Actully, a bit more than that. Not only was I held back in Kindergarten, I also have a really early birthday. I was born on September 19, 1998. My sister was born on February 12, 2000. She's the nerdy, geeky one of the two of us. While she prefers to spend time watching Doctor Who or reading, or hanging out with a small group of nerds, I prefer to spend time playing basketball--I'm actually going to be the captain of the JV team at Lakeside High School this year--or hanging out with all of my popular friends.
"HOLLIS! Up, now. We're going to be late! It's already 7:00! We have to leave inless than half an hour! I 'm supposed to meet Meredith and Sarah at Mer's locker by 7:45! Come on!" I heard Faith stalking upstairs. I roll out of bed and get to the door, opening it before she has a chance to barge in.
"OKAY! Okay, I'm up. Happy?"
"Not particularly," she snaps. "You have 20 minutes to get downstairs. We're leaving at 7:30."
I look over at my alarm clock. It's 7:00. Judging by Faith's appearance, she's been up since 6:300 at least. She's already showered and dressed in short jean shorts and a beaded camisole, her makeup perfect.
"Do you really need to dress like that for school?" I ask. Just because she's annoying doesn't mean I'm not a protective older brother
"Yes," She snaps. "Why do you care, anyways?"
"Nevermind." I mutter. I close the door before she has a chance to say anything. I walk over to my closet and pull out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Just because it's the first day of school doesn't mean I have to dress up like Faith.
I step into the bathroom and quickly brush my teeth and put on deodorant, then run a comb through my hair. Girl's have always told me that my hair is hot. It's messy and dark brown, with streaks of golden blond. It sticks out everywhere. The color contrasts pretty well with my pale skin, tanned a light golden over the summer, and dark blue eyes. I realize I've been staring at myself in the mirror for three of four minutes. I quickly go to the bathroom, then go back into the bedroom and pull on a pair of socks and Nike's.
I go downstairs. There's a bowl of cereal and a bottle of milk waiting on the counter. Faith is sitting at the kitchen table reading a book.
"Thanks for the cereal." I say to her.
"If I hadn't, we would be late. You have 8 minutes before we leave. Eat fast."
I see my backpack in a corner, already zipped up. "Thanks for that, too." I tell her as I sit down at the
"No problem. I put a pack of paper, a box of pencils, a folder, and a comp book in it. Need anything else?"
"No, that should be good." I reply.
"MOM!" Faith yells up the stairs, "We gotta go, like, now!"
I glance at the clock. It's 7:25. I hear my mom's shoes clomping down the stairs. Faith points at the to-go mug on the counter.
"Your coffee's in there, there's toast in the oven. I've got the keys. I'm waiting in the car." She walks out the garage door, her purse at her side and her backpack ohanging off of one shoulder. She's hoding her lunchbox in her hand.
"Guess that means I'm in the back." I grumble as I pur the dregs of milk and cereal down the drain.
"You'll get front on the way home, James." Mom pats me on the back and picks up her briefcase and coffee mug, then walks out the door. I swing my backpack over my shoulder and grab my wallet and phone off the counter. I slip a pair of headphones into my pocket as a last-minute thought. I make sure that our cats' and dogs' food and waer bowls are full, then I walk out the door to the car.
Faith is sitting shotgun, with headphones in her ears and her face pointed down at her phone. She's no doubt texting Meredith or something.
"Ready?" I ask her.
"As I'll ever be." She replies.
