🐺 Invisible 🐺

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"Carla! Let's go! School!" Today is the first day at my new school. My adoptive mother, Melissa, yelled from downstairs. "Scott! You too!" She yelled again, to my adoptive brother, Scott. He is a giant and total nerd. His hair is almost covering his eyes, and let's just say, he isn't the buff jock. Scott, well, he is something. You may think all nerds are smart, but that doesn't apply to him. He's got a 'D' average.

  I grab my stuff and head downstairs. "Thank you." Melissa says to me.

"No problem, Melissa." I say with a forced smile. Why would you force a smile? You might ask, well, school never is particularly fun for me. I mean, I don't have any friends, and I'm the new girl from the beginning of the middle of the year. I'm not pretty, not cool, just some brown haired, hazel eyed, girl who doesn't have any luck.

  My parents died when I was younger. Well, 10. I'm sixteen now. A little older than Scott, but we are in the same grade, surprisingly, would've thought he'd skip a grade or two. Sarcasm intended. My parents, we're great people, my mom used to work in charity, and my dad was in the army, but one night, we went to go out for dinner, and, an animal, or 'mountain lion' the police called it, stepped on the road and jumped on our car. We crashed and, well, the 'mountain lion' bit me. Like a dog would to a human. I haven't been the same since. I've been in and out of homes, or orphanages. Tossed around, for six years. I got used to disappointment and no one caring. Melissa will probably take me back in a week or two. That's what they all do. They drag me in, let me think that, that's the end of the changing homes, and then they ship me right back. The excuses are the hardest. So normally I just stop them before they have to make up a lie. I pretend it doesn't hurt.

  I walk out the door with Scott next to me, and Melissa waving us off. I walked to school, as Scott, took his beat up, piece of junk, dirt bike, which he likes to think it's a motorcycle. As I walk I notice little things, like how the houses in Beacon Hills, the town I arrived in, the houses are normal, like awkwardly normal. The landscaping looks nice, not rich, but nice. Nothing I'm used too. I'm used to New York City, not California, Beacon Hills. It seems like nothing out of the ordinary happens here. That never lasts. I think to myself.

I reach the school, and walk through the front doors. People swarm the halls. A red haired girl next to a..... Lacrosse player? Lacrosse? Who even does that sport anymore? The whole lacrosse team follows them. Except two. Scott, and his friend. Stiles. I think thats, what Scott told me his name was. I look around the halls, a couple people give me quick glares but look away. I'm dressed in a white shirt, leather jacket, and dark jeans. My hair is like I said, brown, and about shoulder length.

  Scott spotted me and grabbed his friends forearm and dragged him over to me

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  Scott spotted me and grabbed his friends forearm and dragged him over to me. He has a buzz cut, and, he wore a lacrosse jacket that looked way to big for him. He's got a goofy kinda look, and a mischievous kind of vibe. I know 'vibe' seriously? Well, yah. He just makes me feel a tingle of mischief. I like the feeling.

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