𝑊𝑎𝑟 𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 (𝐵𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝐼)

i. Fɪʀsᴛ Dᴀʏs

I wake up extra early today. I have to get ready, make breakfast, get George ready and make sure he eats, then finally, leave for school. All while being quiet. I can't afford waking my monstrous father, too afraid of the outcome.

Throwing on an oversized blue, white, and tan long sleeve over my white bra and ripped mom jeans, I pull my golden chains on. One has an 'H' charm, for Hunter. The other is a golden rectangle thing. And the last one is just a golden chain. My brown hair is flowing down my back like chocolate waves. I got my brown hair from my mother, people say I look a lot like her. I miss that woman like hell.

She died when I was thirteen, George almost six, of breast cancer, leaving me here to deal with my father. Rechal Singh was the best person I ever knew. She still is. Life would be so easy if she were here right now.

"Hurry, George. We have to go, it's almost 7:29." I rush my little brother. He inherited our father's slightly golden locks, the morning light coming in from the kitchen window, making the blond strings glow like fire.

"Okay, okay. I'm almost done." George gulps down the remaining bit of milk left in his glass and stands quickly from his chair at the table.

I grab his bag and mine, and we thankfully make it out of the house without my father waking up.

George babbles on about some random shit while I feel a knot form in my stomach. It's the first day back, I'm going to be seeing everyone again. The people I grew up with. The kids I have shared the past eleven years of my life with... Kids who barely look at me when they see me in the halls, in our classrooms, at our lockers, during gym, lunch, breaks between classes. What am I going to do? I think to myself as I begin to panic. My breath quickens and my heart is pounding kit of my chest.

They hate me. Like my dad does. What if they hurt me like he does too?

"Hunter!" George yells, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. "What?"

"Are you okay?" he asks looking a little shook. Can't 'bout imagine how I look.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm alright. Don't worry." I comfort him.

We walk the rest of the way in silence, but I don't miss the worried glances from George. When the two of us reach the bus stop, as usual, no one is around. I check my phone to see what time it is, 7:15, the bus should be here in about eight minutes. My brown headed little brother fidgets nervously.

"What's wrong?" I ask him gently.

"Nothing, I'm just a little nervous, I guess. New school year. New kids. You know?" He explains quietly.

Just as George finishes that sentence, the sound of and engine catches my attention. Only I don't see any type of vehicle in range. Then about ten miles down the road, a black Mercedes zooms by -an iridescent motorcycle trailing behind it- I barely get a glimpse of the driver before they're gone, but what I do see makes me gasp. A blonde boy sits in the front seat, his black eyes staring deeply. My stomach does a flip. I can't see the driver, but I do see the boy behind him and the boy in the middle. One with blonde hair, who was smiling brightly. The other, a mixed boy with curls, grinning slightly. The person on the motorbike was wearing a helmet the black plastic obscuring their features.

"Who were they?" George whispers in astonishment as he watches them disappear. His big brown eyes grew even wider his mouth agape.

"I don't know, George." chuckling at his antics.

The yellow bus pulls up, suddenly, and I jump at the sound of the big bus's breaks screeching. The glass doors slide open and my brother and I hesitantly to step on, but we do. Unfortunately. We walk to the back where there were three empty seats, George takes the one right against the wall and I sit next to him. Once we're settled, the driver puts the bus in gear and steps on the gas, leaving our bus stop behind. Taking a deep breath I look down in my lap, trying to calm my nerves. My brain working so fast I can barely keep up, thinking of a million different situations and scenarios as to why the kids there will pick and hurt me, when I feel a warm tiny hand take mine in theirs. I look over and I find my little brother starring t his own lap, knee bouncing up and down. I smile and use my other hand to run my hand through his hair lovingly.