He looks out beyond the edge and I can't seem to pull my eyes away from him. He smiles and speaks, but I can't hear anything he says. Even so, the buzzing seems to grow quieter and quieter till it's just silence all around myself and him. I watch hi...
"I'm coming!" I call back. I tug on my golden necklace, and I look in the mirror before I leave. Hazel eyes stare back at me intently, reading my own face like a map written in a different tongue. The afro textured coils in my hair have grown out so much.
"Xylia!" Momma calls again. I grab my backpack and run down the stairs into the main room. When I reach the door, mum stops me.
"Ly it's going to storm out, let me take you to school." She says turning towards me. She looks tired, she looks a little older. She didn't always, I think. Some would say I look exactly like her when she was younger, but she looked more mature than I do, she has darker skin than I do. Still, my skin is noticeably dark.
"I'm not walking today; Maddison is taking me see she's just outside." I tell her opening the front door. Maddison honks twice, giving me my que.
"Good morning Mrs Reeves." She calls with a wave.
"Bye momma." I say jogging out and hopping into Maddison's 1960 ford thunderbird.
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She pulls out the driveway and continues down the street. The clouds dance, waving around their new sheets of dark grey around as they twirl. The heater causes a slight fog on the windows.
I turn and look at Maddison. At least she still looks the same. She has a round heart like facial structure, but her face is very defined. Her skin is fair, and her hair is a dark blonde, so her eyes seem to gleam light green colour. The bangs are new, I don't remember her getting them. She wears a short red dress with mid length sleeves and white tube socks. I decided to go with a short jean skirt and green sweater for our first day of junior year. I can't say I'm excited. I woke up this morning unsure of where I was, or when I went to bed.
"Are you ok, Ly?" She asks fixing her bangs. I realize that we are at school already.
"Yeah, I'm good." I smile. We exit the car making our way to the giant glass doors of the school.
"I wish summer was longer, I don't think I can handle another year of Mrs....." She starts to complain, but she stops at the sound of a loud engine from behind us. We turn around and watch a black 1969 Chevrolet Camaro pull into the school parking lot.
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