Chapter one-wings
I'm alone in a dimly lit room. The floor is a cool white marble, which reflects the low lighting, perfectly. I walk further into the room, my shoes clicking against the pristine floor, like horse hooves on pavement. I call out, but no one replies. Seeing something on the floor a few feet away, I bend down and examine it. It's a feather. A huge, black feather. I don't know of any birds whose feathers are this big. Then again, I'm not a bird expert.
A flurry of feathers starts to surround me. They tickle my nose, causing me to sneeze. The soft quills brush against my face, it's a hurricane of red, brown, grey, and white. I feel serene in my tempest of feathers.
I hear laughter in the distance. I can't tell who or what is laughing. The voices calm me, they soothe me. They are familiar, and foreign, all at the same time. Like a memory you can't quite place, but you know it resides somewhere in the back of your mind.
The feathers fall towards the ground and begin to reveal giant wings. Wings like a bird surround me, trapping me. I am in an avian prison. I try to reach out to grab a wing and-
The ringing of my alarm wakes me from my deep sleep. My eyes immediately spring open, and I sit upright in my bed. I go to turn it off. Oh, how I wish I could hit snooze. The first day back from winter break is always hard.
I stare at the ceiling of my bedroom. Water stains line the old ceiling, and there are a few small cracks in there, as well. Sitting up, I glance around. My room looks the same as it did when I fell asleep last night. The cream-colored walls are still there, still covered with posters. I subconsciously make a mental note that there isn't a single feather lying about.
I crawl out of my cozy bed, and head to the bathroom. I lazily go through my morning routine and get dressed. I grab my warm winter coat, and head down the stairs. The winters in New York can be brutal, and this year is no exception. Part of me was hoping we'd get a snow day.
I head down the stairs to of my old creaking house. Everything is wooden, and rustic. A lot of it is falling apart,but I love it anyways. I head into our quaint little kitchen. The white, chipped cupboards give off a warm, well-loved vibe. The wood countertops shine against the fluorescent lights which illuminate the kitchen. The tile floor is white, with little flowers detailing it.
I love everything about it.
"Good morning, sleepy head," my Aunt Lily says, smiling from behind a mug of coffee. "How did you sleep?"
"Fine," I yawn. "I had this really weird dream."
"What was it about?" she asks, inquisitively.
"Something about..." I trail off, straining to put it into words. "Something about like wings."
She gives me a puzzled look, and hands me a cup of coffee. "Like bird wings?"
I shake my head, recalling the picture of multi-colored feathers. "Not exactly."
"Well, anyways," she diverts. "You better get going, the roads are bad this morning."
"Aren't they always," I comment, and roll my eyes. "I'll see you after school."
I grab my bag and coffee, then I head out the door. It takes me a minute to get my car started, a 2006 Saturn I bought myself off Craigslist. It sputters and refuses to accept that we must go back to school at first. Eventually, it begins to run. I back out of the driveway and start my commute to school. High school, the bane of every angsty teenage girl's existence. Maybe I would like school if I didn't go to my school.
I quickly turn on my speakers, and music flows through my car. When you must drive at the pace of a snail, it helps to have something to listen to. It distracts you from the fact you have to go to school. Slowly I make my way to my high school as the sun begins to make an appearance. The pale blue of the morning sky is filled with clouds, which reflect the faded yellow sun.. I pull into my school's student parking lot, I glare at the building in front of me, wondering if I should even go in.
Aunt Lily would murder me if I skipped. I sigh, and open my car door. Swinging my purple bag over my shoulder, I walk towards the entrance, careful to not slip on any ice. I walk under the big, brick 'Jefferson High School' sign which makes me want to vomit immediately.
Jefferson High School has a total population of two-hundred and thirty-four students. Everyone knows everyone, unfortunately. I can count on my fingers how many people here I like. Despite being a small school, it manages to fulfill every high school stereotype there is: cliques, sports, parties, etc. It mirrors any school you'd see in a TV show, just a lot smaller. There's still your usual teenagers, here.
I, for one, am not popular. In this small town of Kingsly, you have to be rich if you want people to like you. It's shallow, and absurd. It holds true, however. I am not popular at all. Most people don't even know I exist, and some who do make it clear that they don't want to know.
"Kaiya!"
I turn my head, and see my best friend running towards me, her sneakers slapping against the cheap tile flooring. A big smile forms on her lips, and she falls into a walk next to me. "Morning!"
"Only you can be this cheerful this early." I remark, smiling.
"You got to make the best of it," she shrugs, curly brown hair spilling over her shoulders. "Are you ready for the history test on Wednesday?"
I wearily nod my head. "Eh, I sort of am."
"We should study together after school today," she said firmly. "If I say I'll study when I get home, I'll end up turning on Netflix and not doing shit."
"Meet me in the library, then." I tell her, laughing.
We make our way to our history classroom. Lana is truly my savior in this place. She's one of the kindest people I ever met. We turn into the door as the first bell rings, and we take our seats in the back of the room. The history class' walls are filled with posters and maps. The lights shine far too brightly for my comfort.
"So," she turns to me, a mischievous grin playing at her lips. "Guess what I heard!"
"What?" I ask, turning to face her.
"I hear," she tells me. "that we're getting a new student."
"Really?" I ask.
She nods, her honey brown eyes wide with excitement. "My mom told me last night, I guess one of her clients heard about it from a guidance counselor here."
"The last time we got some fresh meat was what, two years ago?" I remark.
"Yeah," she replies, rolling her eyes. "Who in their right mind would move here?"
I nod in agreement. Our little town of Kingsly sits in the north part of New York, no more than an hour from the Canadian border. It's cold, gross, and small. The roads are trash in the winter, and it snows about sixty percent of the year. And when it is sunny out, it's humid as balls. Not the most ideal place to live.
The class begins to file in. Lana turns to me and whispers, "The wicked bitch has arrived."
I glance up. In through the doorway Lacey Miller waltzes in. She's wearing a cropped sweater; a total oxymoron, if you ask me. But hey, I'm no fashion expert. She's laughing with some of her friends, and they sit off to the left of Lana and I. Lacey is one of those girls who gets off on making others feel like shit about themselves. It's one of those scenarios where the school never does anything about it, because Mommy and Daddy's money goes a long way. Refer to when I said being wealthy makes lives easier around here.
Just as I think this, she shoots me a look, and then whispers something to the girls around her. She turns to look at me with a satisfied grin while the other girls erupt in a fit of giggles. My stomach sinks into the furthest part of my abdomen and fills with a pool of embarrassment.
"What do you think she said?" I ask Lana.
"Something stupid, I'm sure." She says with venom in her words.
Lacey turns around and says to me, "Hey Kaiya, are you ever going to get your hair redone, or can you not afford it?"
A pick of a strand of dyed pink hair. I had gotten my dark hair lightened to a blonde, then dyed pink as a seventeenth birthday present from my Aunt Lily. I know it had taken a lot money to get it done, and my Aunt had worked hard to get the money for it.
"Around the same time your tests come back from planned parenthood," Lana snaps. "You still got that nasty smell coming out your vagina?"
I choke back a laugh. I truly love her.
Lacey rolls her eyes. "Good one."
"Fucking hate that bitch," Lana says to me. "she's literal trash."
"You're telling me." I agree.
Just then, my history teacher, Mr. Bult, walks in. "Good morning, class!"
A few "Good mornings." Echo back. He sets his briefcase down on his desk and looks around the room.
"Now as you guys remember," he begins to drone on. "Before we left for break, we began covering the Civil War..."
"I can't wait to be free," Lana whispers to me. "We gotta get out of this nothing town, together."
"Where do you suggest we go?" I whisper back.
"Florida," she replies, a wicked smile playing at her lips. "You and me, beautifully tanned and living our best lives."
"No," I tsk. "Florida is full of wackos."
"You're right," she agrees, and sighs. "Dreaded 'Florida Man' will probably kill us and eat our liver."
"I hope you two are talking about how exciting the causes of the Civil War were," Mr. Bult called us out. "Lana, Kaiya, pay attention."
Lacey gave us a look, and smirked.
I could so move away from that.
↭ ✥ 🜺 ⎶
Lana and I meet up for lunch. We pick a quiet corner of the cafeteria to eat our lunches in peace.
"We got a half of a year left, Kai."
"I know," I say, wistfully. "We've almost made it."
"I was serious about us moving away together you know," she tells me, and examines the burrito she's about to bite. "We could do it."
"What about college?" I ask.
"We'll go to college down south," She says, taking a bite. "We'll get a year of residency, then we'll only have to pay in state tuition."
"You gave this thought." I acknowledged, looking at her.
She nods, and swallows. "It's good to plan; it gives you something to look forward to."
"We can both look forward to getting out of here."
"Yeah," she sighs, a bit wistful. "I feel bad for the poor soul who decided to move to this town."
"So," I begin, taking a bite of baby carrot. "When is this new kid supposed to turn up?"
"Hmm," she mumbles, quizzically. "I assume soon, probably next week."
I glance at the clock, putting that in my mental calendar. "Ugh, we have to go to gym."
"Let's go." says Lana.
I sling my back over my shoulder, and we head to the locker room. I always like to arrive a little early so I can change by myself. Lana, thankfully, doesn't mind. And no, I don't hate my body. I mean, yes there's things I'd like to change, but doesn't everybody have something? No, my reason is the multiple occasions of leaked locker room photos being posted on the internet. So much for ladies sticking together.
I wander into the gymnasium, tugging at the hem of my shorts nervously. I don't enjoy gym class all that much, and that shouldn't be a surprise. I'm not completely out of shape, but I definitely have junk in the trunk. That has made me the butt (haha, get it?) of many jokes.
Our classmates trickle in, and our Coach tells us we are playing basketball today. Oh, joy. I barely reach five feet in height. Obviously, basketball is not my strong suit. Lacey is tall and athletic; however, she looks good playing.
We're divided into teams. I find myself on defense chasing after Lacey like a lunatic. She's much faster than me and dodges my every attempt to steal the ball.
"Are you going to have a heart attack, Kai?" Lacey mocks.
I stop to catch my breath, and then tell her. "If I wasn't so out of breath, I might actually laugh at that."
"You should throw the ball at her head." Lana says, her voice breathy.
Laughing breathily, the game starts up again and I'm focused on the basketball. The boy I'm defending dribbles quickly. My vision seems to focus all of a sudden, like theres nothing but me and the person in front of me and I go for the ball. Surprisingly, I manage to steal it. I dribble all the way to the other end of the court, and shoot. It actually goes in.
"Wow," Lana gasps, catching up to me. "I did not know you had skill."
"Neither did I," I reply. "I usually suck at this."
"You were so fast, dude!"
"Was I?"
After gym I take a cleansing wipe and wipe my gross face off. My idea of fun exercising would be yoga, or hiking. We don't do a yoga unit, and there's not any trails around school. I'm stuck running around chasing balls for the rest of my high school career. At least I did have that awesome burst of athleticism right at the end of class.
After our last class, Lana and I head to the library to get work done. We choose a small corner of the library to sit on the floor, then we pull out our homework and get to work.
I've always loved libraries. It always amazes me how many stories can fit into one space. So many adventures, endless worlds, and infinite knowledge. I've never traveled much away from home, so growing up, books were all I had to escape from my mundane world.
I twirl a strand of pink hair in my hand, and then I ask Lana. "Does the hair really look that bad?"
"Grown out roots are totally in, sis," she tells me, picking up a piece of her own curly hair. "Even if it's five inches of root."
"Hmmm." I murmur.
"I like the pink," She explains. "It's youthful, and youth is something that is taken away far too soon in this world. Keep the pink, while you can."
↭ ✥ 🜺 ⎶
"Hey," I call out, opening my front door. "I'm home."
"Hey, sweetie," Aunt Lily calls back from the kitchen. "How was school?"
"Good," I walk into the kitchen. "What are you making?"
"Pancakes," she says with a smile, crows feet appearing around bright green eyes. "Breakfast for dinner is always a treat."
"It sure is."
"Did you have work today?" She inquires, keeping her eyes on the griddle.
"Not today."
"Be sure not to overdo it, Kai," she warns me. "I know you're saving for college- and I'm proud of you for that- but make sure you have time to be a kid."
"Don't worry about me, Aunt Lily," I tell her. "You're in your scrubs."
"Yeah," she replies. "I work an overnight tonight."
"I don't know how you do it."
"Most nights," she comments, seemingly disconnected. "Neither do I."
She sets a plate of pancakes in front of me. I take a bite of the delicious, golden circles of goodness. Aunt Lily tells me to have a good night and that she'll see me in the morning.
I head up to my room and open my laptop, turning on Netflix and taking out my history notes. My mind wanders off subject, and I start to think about all of the strange dreams I've been having as of late. I've had a few similar dreams about feathers and wings. Maybe my subconscious has been trying to tell me something. I could probably go to a psychic if I was bothered to find out more.
As I think about my dreams, I pass out into one.
This dream starts different than the ones before. I'm not surrounded by cool marble anymore. I'm now on the edge of a steep rocky cliff. A storm rages behind me with lightning striking , and thunder rattling to the ground.
I step ever so close to the edge. There's a blackness.. I can't see the bottom, but have enough common sense to know nothing good is down there. I turn to step back from the edge, when a lightning bolt strikes down a foot in front of me. I jump back, flying right off the edge. Screaming as I fall into the abyss, I close my eyes before I reach the bottom.
↭ ✥ 🜺 ⎶
Monday morning Lana and I are sitting in our usual spots in the back of History.
"So," she begins, taking a sip of iced coffee. "I think the new kid is starting today."
"Hmm," I mumble, remembering their existence. "Poor them."
"I guess real estate is cheaper around this area," Lana goes on. "My mom says that's the only reason people keep moving here. They'll work in neighboring towns and cities."
"Well," I say. "I guess I'd do the same."
"I don't understand why people don't just move south," She points out. "You can get beautiful houses for nothing down there, and it's warm."
What I'd give to escape the cold.
"How is everyone doing this fine morning?" Mr. Bult marches in, as cheerful as can be.
A few mumbles echo a response.
"Now class," he starts. "We're supposed to get a new student in today, but I don't see him-"
Just then a boy walks into the classroom. If you could call him that. He looks older, dark stubble shadows his face. He's tall by the looks of it, but then again, compared to me, everyone looks tall. Even Lana, who's only five-six.
"Jax?" Mr. Bult asks him.
He nods, silent, staring blankly in front of him.
"I was starting to wonder if you got lost," Mr. Bult jokes, but Jax does not return the smile. "Pick any seat you want."
I see out of the corner of my eye Lacey smile at him and push her chocolate colored hair behind her ears. Jax seems to either not notice or ignore her. I smirk to myself. His eyes land on me, and for a moment I think his expression changes. If it had, it went back to blank too quick for me to register. He makes his way to a desk and sinks in it.
"Holy hell," Lana whispers to me. "What a snack."
I shoot her an amused look. "He looks pissed."
"The angry ones are always hot," she winks at me, a ringlet of hair falling into her eyes. "I wonder why he moved here."
"You should ask him." I suggest.
"Lacey probably will." She snorts quietly.
Probably.
As History ends, Lana and I part ways to head to our next classes. I have English Composition next. I quickly navigate my way to my classroom, avoiding eye contact in the hallways. I'm the first to arrive, so naturally I pick a seat in the back corner of the room. To pass the time, I pull out my well-loved copy of Edgar Allan Poe's complete collection. I have an affinity for poetry, and Poe's always moves me. I can read Annabel Lee a million times and I'll always love it.
I drown out the sound of the other students filing in, and lose myself in a kingdom by the sea. I hear my teacher, Mrs. Wilton, begin speaking. I stash my book back into my bag, and I look up. The new boy- Jax, was it?- walks in. Mrs. Wilton gives him a quick briefing on the class, and tells him to pick an open seat. I glanced nervously at the one next to me, and pray he doesn't sit next to me. My antisocial ass does not like people near me.
Aaaaaaaaand he picks the seat next to me. Lovely.
It's not that I hate people, so to say, it's that I never really connect well with others. Lana is my only close friend in this town, and I'm so grateful for her. I've always tried to be friendly to everyone I meet, but it doesn't seem to work that way. I've always assumed I'm just too awkward to make good impressions.
"Kaiya," Mrs. Wilton's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Are you with us?"
"Um, yeah, sorry," I stammer, and I hear Lacey snicker. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"I asked if you could kindly fill Jax in on our current assignment," she says with a smile. "Please?"
I nod. Kill me. "Of course."
I glance at Jax, who isn't looking at me. He seems tense, and intimidating. "So, we're currently working on short stories," I begin.
He doesn't respond. His face is hidden by a flop of dark, curly hair. I can see why Lana would say he 'looks like a snack'. He's pretty cute... I mean if that's your type.
"We're supposed to write one," I go on. "It can be about anything you want, just has to be at least two thousand words."
Again, no response.
I quickly roll my eyes. He's probably a stuck up dickwad who feels he can treat people like garbage because he's hot. It sums up a good eighty percent of the guys here. I glance at him, and to my surprise he's glaring at me. What the hell did I do?
My blood boils under my skin. I should fire a dirty look right back at him. Right when I'm about to, I lose my nerve. Again, he's quite intimidating. I just sneakily pull out my book again and lose myself in words until I hear the bell ring, signifying the end of the period. I quickly gather my things and bolt out of the door. I don't even get ten sentences in and he's already giving me dirty looks and what not. If that isn't a summary of my life.
At the end of the day Lana and I meet in the library for that study session. She picks a quiet table, and I begin to tell her about the strange encounter with Jax.
"So, he was just staring at you?" She asks me, exasperated.
I nod. "He looked at me like I kicked a kid, or something."
"I should fight him," she declares, munching on a French fry. "Punch him right in the throat."
"Then you'd get suspended," I laugh. "And how would I ever survive a week without you?"
She smiles, then her expressions turns into a serious one. "You need to learn to stand up for yourself. I might not always be around to tell people off for you."
"I know," I agree "Something just stops me every single time. I'll think of some sort of a comeback or jab, but I can never bring myself to say it."
"You're a nice girl," she tells me. "Unfortunately, nice girls get eaten alive."
Becoming uneasy with the conversation, I switch subjects back to Jax. "Does something seem off about him, though?"
"What do you mean?" she asks, quizzically.
"I don't know how to put it," I say, tapping my pen against my chin. "something seems weird."
"It could be all the asshole-ness radiating off him." She suggests.
I smile. "Could be."
"Come on," she tells me, opening a notebook. "We got studying to do."
After about forty-five minutes of us reviewing the civil war, we part ways. I have to go to work, but I don't mind, I love my job. I work at a pet store in town, and every day people come in with their dogs to shop, so I get to pet them. It's a really nice job. I make the fifteen-minute drive to Healthy Pet Center, and head in, tying an apron around my waist.
I walk into the store. We sell pet food, pet beds, small animal crates- and said small animals to go with-, and other general animal supplies. I clock in and head over to my manager. She tells me that there's dog food needing to be stocked, so I start working.
I struggle to lift the large bags of dog food. One of my coworkers sees that I'm struggling, and offers to switch positions with me. Gratefully, I take his offer, and head over to the counter to check customers out.
"What's this little guy's name?" I ask an older, blonde lady with a border collie puppy.
"His name is Sam." She tells me.
Sam pulls at his leash to come say hi.
"Wow," the lady says. "He really likes you. He's been shy with everyone else he meets."
"Awwww," I coo. "You're a good boy."
I don't mean to brag, but I tend to have that effect with animals. If we get a particularly angry hamster, I'm always the one who deals with them. Animals like me. It's the biggest compliment, to be honest. I've always been a firm believer that animals have that sixth sense about people. They can tell when someone is good. Or bad. Always trust your animals.
I ring out pet food purchases, cat lasers, dog chews, and many other pet related items. As I'm standing there, I begin to feel an ache in my lower back, the kind you get from standing in one spot for too long. I'm glad to go home once my shift is over and it's time for me to go home.
"How was school and work?" Aunt Lily asks me as I walk into the kitchen.
"Oh, you know," I shrug, kicking off my shoes, then placing my bag on a chair "The usual."
"Want some pasta?" she asks me, handing me a bowl of spaghetti.
"Yes, please," I say, and slide into a chair at the wooden kitchen table. "How was work?"
"Oh, you know," she repeats, with a smirk. "The usual."
My Aunt is a nurse at the hospital in the neighboring city. She works weird hours, so sometimes she's home at night, and sometimes she's not. Tonight, she is home, though. And she's even cooked dinner. My very own Wonder Woman.
I begin to talk between bites of pasta. "So, we got another new kid at school today."
"Really," she says, a look of surprise dawning over her face. "Did you talk to him?"
I nod my head, and start to tell her the story of the strange encounter with Jax. She tells me, "Boys can be hormonal jerks."
"You're telling me," I agree, absentmindedly twirling spaghetti with my fork. "Do I come off as annoying, or something?"
"Oh, no honey," She tells me, taking my hand. "You're the sweetest, most pleasant teenage girl to be around."
I crack a smile, even though she probably biased towards me since she is my Aunt. "Thanks, Aunt Lily."
She returns my smile, taking a bite of meatball.
"I have to go to bed," I tell her, glancing at the clock. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Night, Kai." She waves me off.
I make my way up the creaking wooden stairs, and I turn into my bedroom. I strip my day clothes off, and pull my long hair into a ponytail. I crawl in my bed, and I am lulled into sleep.
That night I dream about wings.
White and gray feather dance in front of me. Feathered wings spanning wider than any bird's swirl around me. I begin to see wings of red, brown, and even black. It's like being an in avian light show. I begin to spin around, desperate for a way to escape. I feel constricted, cramped.
"Let me out!" I growl, trying to push through the crowd of whatever these creatures were.
They let out smooth laughter. I feel strangely sick, yet calm at the same time. I know what I had to do. I try to escape my winged prison, pushing through appendages, and whatever they attach to. I feel like I'm drowning, and I desperately need to claw my way to the surface. I push and ram my way out of the crowd.
"Don't go..." they whisper to me. "It's not too late."
"What are you?" I ask them, unable to make anything out but wings.
"Try again." They whisper.
"Where am I?" I ask.
"Don't you remember?" they hiss.
I look around. The black nothing that once surrounded me, has now turned into white stone. Like something out of a scene in ancient Greece. The marble floor is smooth, and shining just like before (?). I spin around in awe. The pillars reach towards the clouds, with no sign of it ending. The sun is nowhere to be found, yet it is as clear and bright as any sunny day.
I turn back to crowd. They disappeared, gone into oblivion. Tracing back to where they were, I bend towards the ground and pick up a grey and white feather. It's unusually long for any bird, almost the length of my entire arm.
"Hello?" I call out. No response comes to me. I look all around the floor. The only evidence of my dance with the avian beings is the trail of huge feathers all over the monochromatic flooring. I hear faint whispers off to my sides, but when I spin around no one is there. I call out, again, "Where did you go?"
"You'll find out soon enough, Kaiya." I hear the whisper inside my head. I slap my hands over my ears.
All of a sudden, my back felt heavy.
I gasp awake. I feel sweat drip down my forehead, and back. I look at the clock: five thirty. It's an hour earlier than I usually wake up, but I probably need a shower before school today. Who knew nightmares could be so gross?
I head towards the bathroom and turn on the shower. I begin to think; was the nightmare really a nightmare? At first, I remember feeling panicked, scared. Then, I wanted to join them. I shake my head. It was only a dream after all. The subconscious mind is a weird place, and I am probably reading way too much into this.
But then again, why the strange bird dreams? It's not like I've been thinking about birds recently. Unless, by me evaluating and now thinking about birds, it triggers my subconscious to dream about them, leading to a vicious never-ending cycle of weird feathered dreams.
Okay, now I am definitely thinking too much into it.
I turn off the shower and then begin to comb through my wet hair. I stare my reflection in the mirror. Lacey was right about my roots. The dark, almost black-auburn hair contrasts the light pink the rest of my hair was. Honestly, I don't care though. My appearance was never something I obsessed over. I don't think I'm pretty, but I don't think I'm ugly, either. I'm just... average, I guess. My eyes are a pale blue, almost gray. My skin isn't bad, but I do have dark circles under my eyes, and patchiness. I'm way too short, clocking in at a whopping five feet, almost to the dot. I'm not skinny, by any means. My thighs have some faded stretch marks, along with more prominent ones. My stomach isn't completely flat, and my arms have a little chub to them, so to say. I'm just me, I suppose. Average is the perfect word to describe me.
Which is fine. Average is better than nothing, I suppose.
I throw on a pair of jeans, and a black sweater. I head downstairs to the kitchen, and turn on the coffee pot. The machine churns to life, making some questionable noises in the process. The machine begins to brew my delicious bean-water.
"You're up early," Aunt Lily yawns. "Couldn't sleep?"
I shrug. "I just woke up early, so I figured I might as well stay up."
"Do you work tonight?" she asks me.
"Not tonight," I shake my head. "Why?"
"I'm just making sure you're giving yourself time to relax," she says, her face contorts with worry. "You need to be a kid still, too."
"College is expensive," I remind her, as I do often. "So is car insurance, gas, and basically every other thing one needs in order to live."
She frowns. "I just wish I could do better."
The way she says this breaks my heart. "You've done the best, Aunt Lily. You've given me everything."
"Oh, Kai," she says, pulling me into a tight hug. "Your father would be so proud of you."
My chest constricts at the mention of my father. I can only manage a nod. My aunt almost never mentions my father, her brother. All I know is my parents died when I was still an infant. Aunt Lily took me in and raised me, no questions asked. I am forever grateful to her. She's given me the best life she could.
"You should head out," she says, releasing me from our embrace. "I'll see you after school."
"See you." I say. I sling my bag over my shoulder and head out the door. I start my car, and I pull out of the driveway.
Immediately, Panic! At the Disco comes on through my speakers. I smile at my emo self. I make the twenty-minute drive to the high school. I'm the first one, so I pick the best parking spot. I saunter towards the doors to the brick building. I mosey my way towards history and find the door unlocked. I take my usual corner seat, and I pull out my phone. I mindlessly check emails, Instagram, and such. I text Lana that I'm already in the classroom. Within a few short minutes she excitedly sits next to me.
"I got news." She says, smugly, clasping her hands together.
"Oh?" I question.
"So," she gushes, drawing out the word. "I was right."
"About?" I press, wishing she'd spit it out.
"Jax," she rolls her eyes. "And Lacey."
A knot forms in my stomach. Weird. "Okay, so what happened?"
"In bio," she begins. "She sits next to him, right? Well, anyways, she's totally flirting with him, and he flirts back."
"Maybe, he was just being nice?" I say, irritation lacing my voice.
Lana doesn't seem to notice. "No, I am totally an expert on flirting-it's me, I mean- and he was totally giving it right back."
I don't say anything. For some reason, this bothers me.
"I love being right," she says, smug again. "I got the bitches in this school pegged."
"You do," I agree. "but, I gotta say, most girls in this school are predictable."
She nods in agreement. "True, still I get my entertainment from our little in-person reality T.V show we call 'high school '."
"So," I start. "Wouldn't that just be reality in general?"
"Anyways," she continues. "I know I shouldn't care all that much about the high school gossip and drama, but there is always something scandalous when it comes to Lacey. She's like a shark"
Speaking of the devil, Lacey walks in through the door. She gives me and Lana distasteful looks and begins to gossip to her friends. Within a few minutes, Jax ambles in. Lacey waves him over, and flashes her pretty smile. He smirks, and heads over. Not before giving me a dark look though.
"Jesus Christ," Lana breathes, irritated. "He doesn't like you."
"I don't know why," I tell her, confused. "I didn't do anything."
"Maybe he doesn't like midgets?" she jokes.
"Ha-ha," I reply. "Not all of us can be on the brink of tall."
"I must've taken those extra inches from you." She says, and winks at me.
I keep thinking about the dark look all class. By the time English comp rolls around, I'm just glad for the change in scenery. I pull out my book, and flip through until I find Masque of the Red Death. I immerse myself, until Mrs. Wilton starts calling my name, again.
"Yeah?" I ask, closing my book.
She gives me an annoyed look, the lines around her mouth become more prominent. "I said you should be Jax's revision partner, since both of you don't have anyone..."
I want to snap at her, tell her I don't like anyone so why the hell would I talk to anyone?
Woah, that's new. I'm usually not an angry, or reactive person. Must be a bad day for me, I suppose. I nod, agreeing to her wishes. Jax, annoyed, moves into the seat next to me. I refuse to let his angst rub off on me.
"Okay," I say to him, as the rest of the class begins to work. "Um, how do you want to do this?"
He turns to face me. "I don't care."
Great. I sigh, "Well, neither do I."
"Look," he snaps, venom in his deep voice. "I don't really give a shit about any of this, so just don't bother talking alright?"
I feel something inside me stir. I don't reply.
↭ ✥ 🜺 ⎶
"Maybe he's bipolar?" Lana suggests at lunch.
"I don't care," I say, annoyed. "I'm telling Mrs. Wilton tomorrow that I refuse to work with him."
"Good," she agrees. "Fuck that."
I hear over exaggerated giggling from the table four down. Lacey is laughing and smiling at Jax. He returns her smile. So maybe he just hates me for whatever reason. No big deal, I don't care. But, if that was true, why did I feel a pit in my stomach?
"Hello," Lana waves a hand in front of my face. "Earth to Kai."
"Yeah," I say, snapping back to reality. "What is it?"
"I asked if you wanted to do something Friday after school?"
"Oh," I say, and I nod. "Of course, want to come to my house?"
"Sure," she smiles, her white teeth beaming against her dark skin. "We should binge watch some show on Netflix, and stuff our faces."
"Sounds like a plan."
"She really is putting in that work," Lana comments, nodding her head towards lacey. "Girl must need some lay, badly."
I look over and see Lacey hardcore flirting. It was almost cringe-worthy. "She probably exhausted the rest of her resources."
Lana laughs. "You pegged her right."
"Why do you think she's such a bitch to me?" I ponder.
"Because she can," Lana explains. "Haven't you read Lord of the Flies?"
"Yes."
"The natural order of the world is chaos," she states. "And bitchiness. When you can be mean, you will be. That's why Lacey does what she does."