2 YEARS LATER
All I wanted to do was just get back to my room and sleep as my body still needed the rest after the late night of writing the paper for today's presentation in English Lit. Obviously like most students out there, I was a proud procrastinator. If it was a sport, I would be getting prizes and gold medals for it.
But alas, there was no such sport and all it gifted you with was an aching back from sitting endless hours on a chair that was more uncomfortable than most and a cranky attitude.
Note to self: Never procrastinate again.
But then again, who was I kidding? If I had another test or assignment due, I'd probably wait until the night before to start on it.
"Mom," I called out as I drank from my mug of decaf. I'd been waiting for her to get up ever since the clock on the kitchen mantle read 7:00. And then again, waiting for someone was not one of my few strong points.
Silence answered me, echoing in the quaint house we lived in, a sure sign that she was still asleep after probably crying herself dry last night.
Mom had always been an early bird. Always getting up at four to make a well-balanced breakfast for me and leaving it on the table before heading down to the bakery where she worked as the manager. But all that changed when the divorce papers arrived in the mail.
Everything changed when dad all up and left us. Left mom. Left me.
I detested my dad with every fiber of my being.
How could he do that to mom? How could he not want us anymore? Why did she have to change?
But those questions remained unanswered as seven months later, dear old dad had yet to show his fatherly face. Just the necessary calls between him and mom discussing the arrangement as he called it on how often he could see me, besides their meetings with their lawyers to discuss the division of assets.
Luckily, we got the house out of it. This place was full of memories that I wanted to hold onto forever. Memories of the past. But sometimes, it was healthier to let go of the past than to keep it like a pet. Sometimes the past stabs you like a knife in the back. And that was obviously taking its toll on mom.
The one thing I missed more than the happy family picture? I missed my overprotective mom. The mom that asked me about my day at school. The one that hovered and cared about me. Not the person that was a shell of her old self that always nodded her head yes to everything I said.
She was at the point of her life right now, that if I said I was considering to get a sex change operation, she'd just nod her head, her eyes unfocused and staring into space. And by the way, I am not considering to get a sex change operation.
"Mom, I'm going to school now," I called out to the barren house after placing my decaf free mug into the sink. Still no reply from her.
Sighing, I grabbed the memo pad.
Mom, have breakfast.
Had to rush to school because of the presentation.
Love ya, Liz.
Then I rushed around the house, grabbing my handbag packed with all the necessities for a whole day at school and stopped by the mirror hanging in the living room, checking my appearance.
Murky brown eyes stared back at me. My tresses of brown hair that I had inherited from my father was pulled up into a bun. I had contemplated dying it blonde like my mom's or dark as in murky black, any color that didn't remind me of my father. But at the last second, I had always freaked out like a coward. I opted for a knee-length pencil skirt and a blue sleeveless blouse, concluding that it seemed suitable for a presentation.
After staring at myself for the appropriate amount of time as to not appear like a crazed self-obsessed person, I grabbed my keys to the old Cadillac parked in the garage and rushed out of the house.
Classes started at half eight and it was nearly eight already. Shoving the keys into the ignition, I backed the car out of the driveway and started the short drive to school.
* * *
"So, ready for Lit?" Alyson, my long-time best friend asked ten minutes later.
Alyson Reed was your very own stereotypical cheerleader except she had raven black hair cut short and was undeniably the kindest girl on the squad. She also happened to be the head cheerleader. Okay, okay, she was not the stereotyped bitchy blonde head cheerleader that everyone had pictured. She also had an A-average grade and would pick re-reading Kierra Cass' Selection Series to going to a party any day.
In its essence, she had basically the best of both worlds, minus the Miley Steward / Hannah Montana hassle. Everyone knew her personality and accepted her.
"Yeah," I replied as I rummaged through my bag for my notes. "How hard could it be right? Jane Austen is pretty easy." Right. Tell that to your sore back, you avid procrastinator!
"Yeah, if you were from the 19th century," she grunted as she pulled her books from her locker.
"No. You just have to understand the concept." I had only understood it after reading someone's essay on it online. And no, I did not plagiarize. That's bad.
"What concept is that exactly, Lady Charleston?" she asked in an English accent as she arched a brow surprised. She knew how much I hated reading.
"Well, for 'Pride and Prejudice', Elizabeth Bennett refused to let go of her preconceived notions of Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy on the other hand, was too prejudiced against those of the lower status. Undoubtedly both of them had numerous character flaws. Elizabeth was too proud, lacked manners and Darcy was immersed in the division between factions, the rich and the poor. He thought everyone was after his money and couldn't see past that fact."
"Whoa, well done Ms Charleston," Alyson said as she gave a round of exaggerated applause. "When did you become so studied in the art of literature?" She smiled at me as if welcoming me to the flock.
"It's called listening, Ally. You should try it sometime," I replied as I spotted Brianna Samuels, the gossip of the school, heading towards us with a slight bounce in her step.
This was bad. Only two things put a bounce in Brianna's step. Either she had just acquired a new Prada or Gucci bag or she had some juicy gossip that she wanted to tell everyone. Don't get it wrong.
Sometimes stereotypes were spot on correct and sometimes they weren't. This was again, another case in Brianna Samuels. She wasn't one of those bitches that everyone knew about because of stereotypes, that lived for gossip and brought people down just so they felt better about themselves.
Okay, well Brianna did live for gossip, but mostly the harmless type of gossip and she definitely did not live to step on people. The type of gossip she lived for would basically be classified as petty theft in contrast to murder. Basically who dated who and who's hot and whatnot.
"Liz. Alyson," she beamed before she gave us each a bone-crushing hug that would've called for a professional to fix if you weren't already used to it.
We both smiled as we greeted her back. "How are you?" Alyson asked, ever the polite one out of the two of us.
"Great," she said, waving her arms around for emphasis. "Fabulous. Perfect."
Alyson giggled as Brianna went about exaggerating her gestures.
"Anyways, I just saw something that's gonna make Jimmy Choos look like sneakers. Wanna know?"
Both Alyson and I were used to her manner of speaking. Everything in the world from Brianna's point of view was out of a fashion catalog. We just nodded in reply to her question knowing that she would tell us even if we didn't want to.
"There's a new kid in school." She paused as we stared at her, prodding her on with our eyes.
"We get new kids all the time, Bri," I said.
"He's hot," she added.
"Look around you, Bri," I nodded at the students milling around, and to the far right where Tyler and his groups of croonies were talking. "There are a bunch of lookers here. So what if the new kid is okay looking?"
"Not just okay looking, Liz. Adonis reincarnation gorgeous."
I rolled my eyes at her comment.
Alyson must've noticed too that Brianna was about to give me a rundown of new guy's physique and all, so she being my best friend decided to save my ass and interceded on my behalf. "Where did he come from?"
"He moved from... " She looked at the wall as if the answer was written there. "I think it was New York." Brianna paused as she thought about it. "Yeah, definitely New York."
"Why did he move here?"
"I don't know. But I'll know by first period."
"I'm sure you will," I muttered, knowing that if Brianna had something on her mind, she'll get it.
The bell for homeroom rang, indicating that everyone should be heading off to their different rooms or face the consequences of detention. Brianna made no move to leave.
"Does he have a name?" Alyson asked her. Okay, maybe she was also interested in this new kid. And here I thought she was saving me from the torture of proving myself right.
I grabbed my phone, checking to see whether mom had texted me, letting me know if she was alright.
No messages. Maybe I should text her.
"Taylor."
As if a thunderbolt had been thrown directly at me, I froze and my phone slipped through my fingers.
Taylor?
"Shit!" I heard Brianna gasp as the sound of my phone hitting the ground thundered in the hallway.
"Liz, are you okay?" Alyson asked, her brows furrowed together in worry as she picked up my phone. "What's wrong?
Just having a minor, not so minor breakdown and paranoia, that's all. I tried to paste on a smile on my face, hoping they'd let it go.
Get a hold of yourself woman! I mentally slapped myself as the memory of Frank slipped into my mind after months of forgetting him. I should've already forgotten about him, but any mention of something that reminded me of him set me off.
Anyone named Frank or Taylor had me glancing at them twice, hoping it was my best friend. Anyone that wore the same cologne as him made me want to be a weirdo and get closer to them just so I could linger and dwell on the sweet, painful aroma. Anyone that talked about Star Wars had me smiling along.
"It's nothing," I tried to brush it off. "Nerves, I guess. Presentation." I tried to smile as widely as I could so they didn't ask any more questions. I didn't want to come across like those clingy exes that still stalked their boyfriends and were so high-tuned they freaked when someone had the same ringer as their ex.
Luckily for me, they believed me. "Don't freak out Liz. You're a natural on the stage."
I smiled, feeling guilty. "Thanks Ally."
"So, back to the smoking new guy. I just thought I'd let you both know. And don't tell me I didn't warn you. Especially you Liz. You'll be all over that fine specimen when you see him."
I rolled an eye. Sure I will. "You're forgetting I have Nate, Bri."
She shrugged. "Nate's an easy ten, I admit that..."
"But?" I offered. I knew there was a but there.
"Taylor's an easy 12. Now gotta go. See yous later." She winked before waving at us and walking away.
Right, I thought as Alyson and I headed towards English Lit.
•••※※※•••
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