Forever Yours

chapter one

"Ugh, where are they?" I'm frantic as I'm looking around my messy room for my favorite pair of jeans. "They just disappeared!" I'm talking to myself.

I spend another ten minutes looking for them, when I finally find them shoved under the bed, underneath a pile of books.

"How'd you get here?" I question as if they can talk to me. But now I remember, I must have kicked them away when I was looking for my top. And somehow books got on top of them?

Who knows how that happened. I bring them in for a hug, I couldn't go a day without these. Let alone this day, the first day of junior year.

It's not going to be that bad Willow, inner me states.

But of course it's bad because I hate going to school where I have to see all those stupid faces. Whispering stupid lies and insults my way. Maybe this year they'll forget.

That's what I've thought the past two years, but have they forgotten? No. Have I forgotten? NO, never. But, hey, people change... right?

I look around my dark room, light barely seeping through my ebony, black out curtains. The purple, floral wallpaper I've had since I was a little girl is now littered with rock band posters. Blink 182, Sum 41, and Green Day are all staring back at me.

I get my taste in music from my dad. My love of rock reflects off me in the clothing I wear. I pull on my black, high-waisted, ripped jeans and shimmy them up my legs. I struggle to button my pants, my curves suck. I can barely fit in most of my pants these days. I need to go shopping. I throw on my favorite Ramones t-shirt and head for my connecting bathroom.

I look in the mirror and see my short, black, curly hair is a mess. I always have the worst bed head. I take a brush and try to get the knots out, then put my hair in my signature low, bun. Pulling a few strands of hair out, completing the messy look. I complete my grunge look with some makeup, then head downstairs.

"Hey dad," I say as I walk into the kitchen.

"Hello honey!" My dad sounds cheerful today. He takes a drink of his black coffee. I don't know how he does it, I always have to have creamer in mine.

"You sound happy today, what's that all about? Got a new date set up?"

"What? Your old man can't just be having a good day?" he chuckles. "And no, not yet. I'm working on my next book, and I think it's going fantastically well." My father, Eric Moreau, at age forty-one, is a very successful Paleontologist. He's written two books and is a proud owner of a Nobel Prize for the discovery of a new species of dinosaur. He's also a man who's been on about seventy dates. His time on the computer consists of either writing or on his dating website looking for a lucky new lady. Ever since my mom passed away two years ago, he's been looking for someone to fill the void. Yes, it bothers me that he hardly had time to grieve before going on a date, but I guess everyone grieves differently. So, for that reason only, I never say anything about it.

"That's great to hear dad!" I finally answer. "Well, I better get going to school now." I was going to make coffee here, but I don't feel like waiting around for almost an hour before school starts. Oooo, let's get a Dutch Bros. Good thinking inner me. Oh, why thank you.

"But it's only 7:15," Dad points out.

"I don't want to be late!" I honestly don't care if I'm late or not. I just can't bear to hear another thing about dinosaurs, and I know he's dying to tell me about what he's writing. While dinosaurs are cool and all, I've heard all the details about them for sixteen years now and I just can't handle it anymore. Tyrannosaurus Rex's are carnivores, whereas Ankylosaurs are herbivores, but don't forget that Stegosaurus' are omnivores. And Velociraptors are Dad's favorite. That's about all the information about dinosaurs I've retained, except the fact that they lived sixty-five million years ago. "You wouldn't want me to be late now, would you dad?" He just peers up at me through his reading glasses and shakes his head. "Okay, bye! Love you," I say as I'm putting on my black, beat-up combat boots and toss my bright yellow backpack-the same one I've had since freshman year-over my shoulder. Despite all the black I tend to wear, yellow is my favorite color because it reminds me of my mother. She was a ray of sunshine.