Notice

Chapter 1

                I hug the white hard cover book against my chest as I step out the front door of where I work. I hear the screams of the kids I work with, yelling my name goodbye.

"Elina!" I turn around in one swift movement, my backpack swinging around, and landing on my back with a hard thump. Maybe I should get rid of some of the old books that are still in there.

Nah. I like the heaviness of my books.

"What's up Liam ?" I ask the youngest of the three as he runs towards me. It's a beautiful day outside, for a winter afternoon and he's wearing a pair of cargo pants and a red t-shirt. His blonde hair bounces as he jumps off the step of his porch.

He reaches me and hugs my legs. His hands reach up to around my waist, but his face stays hopelessly smushed against my left thigh. I laugh a little under my breath and hug him back, letting my book slide under my armpit.

"Bye Liam. I'll see you tomorrow!" Then he smiles and jogs back into the house. He slams the door behind him and I can hear his mother yell at him about not slamming doors.  I smile to myself, as I turn around again and start walking up the hill towards my shortcut to get home.

I turn right, into a passageway between houses. I work in the suburbs for rich families who need babysitters to watch after their kids after school, because they don't get home until 7 at night. This passageway, is different from all of the others, for multiple reasons. The first being that it's a few flights of steep stairs. I can thank those steps for my increased stamina and muscle thighs.  I hug the book tighter against my chest, as I take the first step on the multiple steps to come.

I finish the first flight and before I can start on the second I hear the voices that I look forward to hearing every day.

They are the second reason why I love this passageway.

There's four voices, and I can easily match them up to their respective person. The first one is unmistakable. It's a deep and raspy voice. It creates a laugh that rumbles the earth beneath my feet, and every time I hear it, it makes me smile.  That one belongs to the short but muscular red haired boy that is constantly beating up his friends, every time I walk by.

The second one is higher pitched than the first one, but not by much. This one has a slight British accent added to it,  as if it's holder was from Britain.

Except that I wouldn't know.

It belongs to the tall, skinny, long jawed and blonde haired boy who is a wiz at soccer.

The third one, as much as I hate to say it, is the funniest one. It's owner hasn't quite reached the kingdom of being a man and so sometimes when he yells, it comes out either as a deep roar or a high pitched squeak. That one belongs to the tall, black haired boy who always winks at me.

The last and final voice is my favourite. It's low, but high. It's soft, but raspy. This voice creates the most wonderful laugh, and it's partnering lips create the most amazing smile.

These voices, aren't just voices. In fact they're people, teenage boys to be exact.

Teenagers who actually notice me.

I reach the top of the stairs and I pause before walking across the parking lot of the elementary school. I stare at the four boys, who have pulled two red metal soccer nets on either side of the basketball court in the play ground where the students here, spend their recess.

I tug at my lip with my teeth, as I watch them pass a black hockey puck back and forth, desperately trying to score on each other.  I take a step forward and start across the parking lot.