Who does that creep think he is? Sherlock Holmes? Does he think he can constantly watch people without suffering the consequences? Well, if he thinks he can mess with me, he's got another thing coming.
Does he think I'm going to trip over myself to try and chase him? He's not even that good looking. Like, seriously, get over yourself. You're not that great.
Maybe he's just turning into another of those guys constantly trying to get to me. Well, if he wants to try to play, I'm going to make it the hardest game he's ever played, for him and all the boys. Whoever stays in there until the end will have my shocked respect. Not that there'll be anyone still chasing me after this game.
I jog home in the pouring rain, my long hair soaked and heavy. My eyesight is limited to only a few inches in front of me, but I know my way by heart. I take a sharp left and pound up the stairs just as a roar of thunder sounds.
My mom's humming in the kitchen while she mixes up a vinaigrette. Her shoulder length blond hair is tied in a silver ribbon and her face is spotted with freckles. Her dirty t-shirt and jeans make her even more beautiful, which is why my dad married her. Well, that and the fact that she's wise and intelligent.
Without turning around, she calls, "Hi, flower. How was your day?"
"Pretty much the same as always," I answer.
"What's new?"
"New kid."
"Anyone I know?"
"Jacob Noland." She freezes in place, whisk half submerged in the dressing.
"Are you...sure?" Why does she sound...worried?
"I'm very sure," I say.
She mutters something, but all I can make out is "-no good for any of us." Before I can ask what she's going on about, she forces a smile and says, "That's wonderful, flower."
I know that's the end of the matter.
As I climb the steps, an idea comes to mind. Their first challenge in this sneaky little game of ours.
"Hey, mom?"
"Yeah?"
"Your hair salon? Can you walk in without an appointment?"
"Yes, but what's this about?"
"Nothing really," I reply, "but I'd like to get my hair cut."
~••~
"You're all done."
The woman smiles and claps her hands. I examine myself in the mirror, not quite used to the lightness yet.
After a few moments, I say to her, "It's perfect." They want to play? Let's play.
YOU ARE READING
This Is Where We Start
Romance"A girl and a boy. That's how it usually starts out, right? This seems to be another of those stories, so that's where we'll start." Lily Edwards is a normal girl, in a quiet town, in a small school. With her mother a librarian and her father a poli...
