Clover

chapter one: australian bimbos

NEVAEH Reyes was never the type to fear silences. In fact, she was rather comforted by them.

While most people her age, and definitely younger, felt the incessant need to fill perfectly comfortable silences with awkward chatter and random commentary, she was much more content basking in the presence of those she decided to spend her time with in the blissful blanket of silence.

When she spoke, it usually mattered. It was often articulated well, deliberated and thought out. She rarely spoke on a whim. Her tone was always calm, her sentences calculated, tried and tested several times in her mind before she decided to share her thoughts with the world.

She preferred it that way, because it meant that everything she said was always delivered the way she wanted it to be. It was never rushed, never really open for too much interpretation. To be frank, she said what she said, and she meant what she meant. She wasn't the type to ramble on, or blurt things out. She was much too big of an overthinker for that.

Always in her head, as Ember Araújo would say. Now, that isn't to say she never listened, or wasn't present. In fact, far from it. It just meant she moved slower, thought quicker. There was often a pause after a question was posed to her, often a short period of time in which she would gather herself, say what she needed to say in not a word extra than she deemed necessary. She didn't have time for flair or implications. She was quite averse to double meanings and subtle hints.

It was precisely the reason why her therapy sessions never worked for her. She much preferred listening. Watching. Observing. It was no wonder then, why her friends and loved ones loved to talk so much. Well, all but her twin, Kavi, who somehow managed to talk less but say more.

Nevaeh, currently riding her motorcycle back to school so she could make it on time for her first day of senior year, smiled as she recalled the last thing her therapist had said to her.

"Nevaeh, we have been in this room for 55 minutes, and you have said all but 20 words. We're doing this for your benefit, not mine."

That very statement was precisely the reason why she had taken her leave 33 minutes earlier than she was supposed to. It was a waste of everyone's time. Rosalie knew that, Nevaeh knew that, Dr Paulson knew that, yet they all continued to kid themselves.

Not anymore though. It was then Nevaeh had decided she wouldn't be going back to therapy. Not for a while at least. It was a waste of her precious time, and she had much better things to do instead of discussing her non-existent problems with someone who was paid to care.

Not anymore, Nevaeh thought.

She pulled her bike up out the backside of the school building due to her fondness of peace and quiet. This way, she didn't have to wade through the sea of prepubescent teens and annoying teachers.

She started every day in the same way, parking her bike outside the back of the old building; a sparse, neglected area of Lakeview High (a stupid name considering the fact that they were nowhere near a lake) that was entirely derelict and rundown. Practically abandoned. The only lessons that happened down there were dismissed for the last time years ago.

The building wasn't entirely closed off, despite the main school moving into the newly renovated ones in front of it, giving Nevaeh the perfect opening to peacefully enter the school without drawing too much attention to herself. She didn't mind talking to the front desk lady, exchanging pleasantries and all, it was the other students she didn't particularly want to engage with.

The brown skinned girl fiddled with her bracelet, quick stepping her way through the run-down corridors. She found herself wondering where Fern, her sister in all aspects other than biology, could possibly have gotten to.