The day started like any other. I woke up, brushed my teeth, showered, and got dressed. Before heading downstairs I gave myself a once over. I had on regular jeans, my worn converse, and my favorite graphic tee. I loved this shirt, I've had it since forever. It was purple and had the fun dip logo on it and had one of the crazy faces on it with its tongue out and some of the candy on it.
I also took into account my hair. It was a lost cause in my eyes. It's just a plain brown that fell a little passed my shoulders. Sometimes it was wavy sometimes it was straight or this wonderful mixture of mess. The one that graced me today would be, of course, the mess. My face had one too many freckles for my liking. My eyes were a very dark brown, often mistaken as black. I think I'm one of those people who always looked tired but, really isn't.
I let out a sigh. Same ol' same ol' I thought as I made my way down to eat my regular bowl of Cocoa pebbles.
Finally I was ready for the long depressing ride to school.
" Come on Marisol, you're going to be late." My mother called. When I knew she meant " Hurry up, or you're going to make ME late." Don't get me wrong, I love my mother but, her priorities don't fall to far from herself.
"See you later, Sweetie. Remember that your father is picking you up today." She said as we pulled up in front of my school. Oh, great. I hated when she referred to Randall as my father, he was the farthest thing from it.
"Lucky." My little brother, Sam, said under his breath. He was 5 years younger than me. He was blonde with light brown almost hazel eyes and stood just passed my shoulders. He hated when Randall payed any attention to anyone other than him, what little attention that was. After all that is his father.
"Okay." I said shutting the door and turned to my school. Or as I liked to call it, the containment center for delinquents.
God, I wish it would rain. Not that it would change anything but, at least I could race raindrops on the classroom windows. Plus I love rain.
"So, you decided to show up to class today I see, Miss Ray." Said my English teacher, Miss Lebrum, breaking my train of thought. I usually skipped first period because honestly it was a waste of time. All we do is write about useless topics, read about old/dead people or, listen to Miss Lebrum lecture us about how the school's performance scores are going downhill. The later happened more often than not.
The only reason my mother doesn't know about my skipping class is because, she's so uninvolved that the school doesn't even have a number to reach her at. They have her cell number but, she ignores the calls. It also doesn't hurt that my grades in this class were just as good and sometimes better than the actual dedicated students.
"Yes, today seems like a great day to waste time in your lovely class." I said passing her on my way to my seat in the back corner next to the window.
This was my first mistake of the day. Coming to this class
After an hour of lecturing we were released to second and then third period. After math, my third class, I went to lunch.
Lunch seemed the same as usual. I went through the to receive the slop that passed as cafeteria food. It's like, what? Do they just chop up last week's 'chicken', slap it on a bun with some lettuce and call it a sandwich?
Out of all the schools I've been to, this one's is the worst.
We moved quite a bit for Mother's job. I've gotten used to it. Sam had our family's notable social trait. So he did just fine, I knew leaving his friends still hurt though. I knew that kind of loss.I had made a personal pact not to let any new people get close enough to be a real friend in attempt to spare myself the hurt when I eventually left. This resulted in having no one to talk to.
I text Mother to see if she could bring me money, or actual food. Her office wasn't too far from my school. "Busy." Was all I got, as usual. I had only been here a month so I really didn't have any people I could even sit with. So I walked outside and sat in the grass. I shoved my headphones in and watched the different groups interact with each other. I watched the Barbies do each other's make up and gossip. I watched the jocks throw food and make unintelligent jokes. This school didn't have any outcasts really. I at least mingled with them.
I laid back in the grass and looked up at the sky. Just as I found a bunny riding a unicycle in the clouds, a tall dark figure came up and stood over me. "Dude!" I yelled as jumped into a sitting position pulling out my headphones.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." He said sounding sincerely apologetic as his cheek began to redden. I sat a bit dazed then he spoke again. " I just came out here cause I couldn't find a seat inside..." he trailed off as I looked inside. Observing beyond the Barbies, Jocks, and other groups noticing the few empty tables. "It's okay, I don't like it in there either." I finally said.
I patted the ground next to me. "I don't bite, I promise. You just kinda startled me." I said. That being an understatement. I nearly pissed myself. I tried to sound calm, cool, and collected. He awkwardly sat down. After a bit of silence he said "My name is... Mark." As if he wasn't sure his name was Mark.
"Mine is Marisol. " I said wondering if I should've given him some kind of nickname. I mean after all we were acquaintances. That's almost a step towards friendship though, right? I wasn't exactly well versed in that department.
"That's a nice name, may I call you Mare?" He asked as if he read my mind. That was a bit forward considering we had just met. Weren't given nicknames usually developed through an experience with the people over time being regular friends? The only person who gave me little nicknames was Sam. They never stuck anyway. It's not like it would matter. Eventually I would move.. so what could it hurt? I chewed my bottom lip and answered "Sure.... do you have a nickname?" "No, I really don't need one. Mark is pretty short already. " he said with a hint of laughter. So we were going with names given out of convenience. I could roll with that. "Well that's unfortunate Mark is just so... plain." I said trying to keep up the light mood.
I noticed his smile reached his piercing blue eyes. I could feel myself relax a little but, I could sense he was still a bit tense as he ran his hand through his chocolate brown curls. "Yes, my parents like plain." He said through a nervous laugh.
More time passed and we continued talking and laughing. "So is Fun Dip you're favorite candy?" He asked once, noticing my worn shirt. I actually blushed at this but, laughed trying to hide my discomfort. "Actually, no. Skittles would be my favorite." I said. He nodded his head in approval. "I've always preferred the fruity candies over chocolate ones." He replied. I laughed. I really didn't mind that. I liked all candies.
Eventually the bell rang and I felt disappointed that lunch was so short. Mark stood up and reached his hand out to me. I nervously took it and jumped at the sensation that ran through my body. I couldn't quite describe it. It was a sense of familiarity mixed with something else I still can't put my finger on. I steadied myself. "Well, see you later Mark." I said with blandness in his name pulling my hand from his. "I hope so." He said with that sincerity in his voice again. I stood there again. Until finally I broke the eye contact to turn, heading towards my fifth period science class. I fought the urge to look over my shoulder believing that is was too cliché for my liking.. yet I swore I could still feel those eyes on me.
The rest of the day went by as expected. Sadly with no guests appearances by Mark. I wasn't love struck. Don't get me wrong, his eyes were killer and he was cute but, honestly he was the only one I could talk to here.. I was really comfortable with him.
Finally the last bell rang and it was quittin' time. I should've been more relieved but, the fact that Randall was picking us up downed my mood. Oh, great... more fun. I thought as I made my way to the front of the school to find Randall's "truck". I was shocked he had the decency to show up on time.
Randall's truck was by far the ugliest thing I have ever seen on wheels. It was tool box red chipping painted with so many dents and scrapes that you could hardly believe it was ever a good running vehicle.
As I made my way over her rolled the window down "Hurry up! We gotta go get Sam." He yelled in his incredibly thick hick accent. I resented everything about him. "You see me coming, don't you?" I retorted. "Don't get an attitude with me young lady. " "You are NOT my father." I snapped at him. I did everything I could to get at him. Not because I could get away with it but, because he deserves it. Unfortunately he didn't care about me enough to care.
Perhaps I should explain my hatred for this man.
When I was around the age of five, Mother met her second husband, Randall. At first he was okay. Then his true self came to the surface. He started drinking around us. When he was drunk he became very violent. He started hitting Mother. While she was pregnant with same he would, so much to the point she nearly lost him. He verbally reprimanded me and his attempts to physically do so in my mother's presence she would take it for me. She couldn't help what she couldn't see. I always appreciated that and promised I would pay her back, one day.
When Sam was born Randall stuck around for a while. He stayed gone until he ended up with nowhere to go. Once, when Sam was four, he came around Christmas time and of course Sam was thrilled. It never mattered to Sam if Randall smelled of alcohol. Then on Christmas eve he said he was going to the store. Mother wouldn't let Sam go with him. So he stood at the door, crying, waiting for him to come back.
Five years later he knocked, needing somewhere to crash. Mother made him leave but, he never strays to far. Mother feels guilty that Sam has to live fatherless. So every once in a while she let's him come around.
"Just get in." He replied. I reluctantly did so.
For sure my second mistake of this day.
His truck stunk of beer and various liquors. It made me sick to my stomach. I scooted into his three seater truck, moving the trash coating the floorboard with my foot. "When is Mother coming home. " I asked as I settled in the window seat finally accepting the smell. "She's working late." Is all he could say. "What happened to Carrie?" I asked. She was usually the one who watched us if Mother worked late. "She couldn't make it. I'll be watchin' y'all." He said with a matter-of-fact tone to his voice. "Let's just go." I said terminating the conversation.
A few moments later we pulled up in front of Sam's school. I saw Sam's face light up as we came into sight. "I thought mom was picking me up?" He said as I got out to let him have the middle seat. "She had to work late." I said before Randall had the chance to speak. "Oh.." he replied a bit disappointed. He hated when she had to work late. I knew it was because he missed her being around. Another thing I was a custom to. "Don't worry Bud, I'll be watchin' y'all. " Randall said. The thought of him being our caretaker made me gag. "Wow, okay!" Sam said.
I don't mind him being happy, I just hate when his happiness is depleted. He takes it so hard. He's always been so sensitive.
"I'm sure I could take care of us if you don't want to." I said trying get him to lay off the whole "Daddy act". Wanting to spare Sam the heartbreak. "Nah, what kinda father would I be if I let that happen?" He said proudly. "The kind you are." I said under my breath. I couldn't believe he had the audacity to say that. I put my headphones in. I looked at him as he raised his hand, thinking he had heard me then I turned away. Then that's when I saw it. Just a glimpse of headlights coming towards the side of the truck.
My side.
I looked at Sam. I pulled him close hoping my body would protect him. I tugged at his shirt and whispered
"I lov-"
And then it all went black.
