Prologue: Rebecca

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"Everett, come on! We're gonna be late for our first day!" I shout at my older brother who has a tendency of waking up ten minutes before we have to leave. He finally comes lumbering down the stairs, dressed in his usual black v-neck and black jeans. I glance down at my pleated floral skirt and blue button up, then back at Everett. Great. Even with a morning breath and bedhead he manages to look better than I do.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, God Rebecca, just let me grab some coffee and we will be out the door," he says as he laces up his converse.

"It's already made: No cream and one sugar, just the way you like it, now go brush your teeth and then we have to go! Just meet me in the car," I say as I head out the door and down the stairs of our third story apartment. I rush to the car, get into the passenger seat, and wait. And wait. And wait. After what seems like hours but is really about two minutes, I get out my phone and call him. When he picks up, all I get is "I'm almost there, this impatience is no way to treat your legal guardian." Then he hangs up... I use this opportunity to take out my planner and go over my list one last time. Notebooks and folders-check, writing utensils- check, purse-check, water bottle-check, song journal-check... by the time I finish, Everett is finally sliding into the driver's seat. "Finally," I mutter under my breath," You know just because mom and dad are in--"

"Stop," he interrupts holding up a hand and sighing as if trying to hold back tears, "we are not having this conversation today." He buckles his seatbelt and we start driving to Eleanor Roosevelt High School in New York, New York. He's been closed off like this since the incident. One minute he makes a joke about being in charge of me and the next his wall is built back up. I guess I should we grateful that he can joke with me. He can't with anyone else. Moving to a new city won't change him, and sadly, it won't change me either.

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