Shaken

Chapter two.

My brother shook me awake the next morning.

"Vi, you suck, why do you make me do this every damn day," He grumbled as he ripped the covers off my body.

I shivered as my skin was exposed to the morning frost that had crept through my window overnight. 

"We're leaving in 30," he yelled as he sauntered out of my room.

I groaned as I rolled out of my bed onto the gray carpeted floor. The sun was barely visible through the thick morning fog that rested in the sky.

Yawning, I rifled through my closet until I could find a compatible outfit.

I grabbed a white cami and flannel off their hangers and tugged my ripped jeans out of the drawer. I sprawled them across my bed with my white sneakers and ankle socks.

Putting on my top with the red tinted flannel on first and following with my jeans. I glanced at the mirror reluctantly as I pushed my feet through each pant leg.

I stopped my pants at my calves and held one of my thighs in my hands. A familiar feeling sank deep into my stomach. A big insecurity of mine, my legs had always been much bigger than all of my friends, especially those on the tennis team.

I struggled with my confidence often, and people's comments made it impossible to look in the mirror without my eyes drawn down. I was the only girl on the team who wore a size 5 pant, and I could see the athletic director stutter as he had to erase the 00 he had automatically put down as everyone's size for the tennis uniform each year.

I never wore shorts, or skirts, or dresses. Not because I didn't like them, I just couldn't seem to get myself to believe I could ever pull them off. The girl's at practice would often question me about my consistent apparel of loose black yoga pants.

"Aren't you hot, Vi?" Kim had asked me yesterday as the girls around me stretched freely in their tennis skirts. "No, I'm not. It's honestly kinda breezy. " I had replied, as a bead of sweat dripped down my temple. I wiped it away fast and crouched in a runner's stretch.

I pulled my flare jeans up and over my backside, zipped the zipper, and buttoned the button. I sighed as I took one last look at the mirror, how shallow are you?

Suppressing an eye roll, I trotted downstairs to grab some breakfast. A note was left on the marbled table; the scrawl on the post-it looked rushed.

Violet,
Made you and your brother smoothies, in fridge.
Love,
Mom 

I smiled as I crumbled the paper and tossed it into the trash can. As promised, two magenta drinks in clear glasses sat on the top fridge shelf. I picked them both up and set one of them on the counter for my brother.

"Kyle! Smoothie on the counter," I yelled. No response.

The smoothie was thick, and I needed a spoon to eat it. It was more like an açaí bowl than anything else. After finishing it, I dashed upstairs to get ready.

I tried to look decent that day, carefully applying my makeup to cover each blemish and freckle. My brother burst into my room while I was applying a thin amount of eyeliner on my waterline.

"Let's go," He said irritably. I flinched almost smearing black all over my eyelid.

"I'm coming," I said, misting my setting spray around my face. I grabbed my backpack and cellphone off my mantle.

"Shit, I forgot to plug it in last night," I mumbled.

"Sucks to suck," he laughed and walked out of the door frame.