Bittersweet (Book #1 Evening Wings Trilogy)

Chapter 2

2

It was early.

I pulled on a pink T-shirt with an illustration of a hawk over my shorts, and stared at myself in the mirror.

I was tall.

Amazon tall.

I wasn’t like Heidi, all looks, slenderness and legs.

 I was… well, weirdly shaped with a long frame that was neither arms nor legs and freakish hair that had its own mind. I wasn’t exactly satisfied with my features, but then again, tell me what teen wasn’t? I grinned at my golden brown visage in the mirror and quickly forfeited the venture for I looked like an idiot.

Maybe I was a little eccentric, definitely artistic… blissfully shy…

I bundled my textbooks into my satchel and slung it over my shoulder.

I’d traded in my flip-flops for a vintage pair of battered yellow Chucks and I skipped down the stairs, unusually happy today, for what reason, I didn’t know.

My mother, with her long dark hair in a sloppy pinned up ponytail, sat on the sofa with a bowl of yogurt and trail mix in her pajamas.

“Tell me you’re not dropping me to school like that.” I asked.

She laughed and chucked me the keys to the Rust Bucket. “You’re on your own, kid.”

 “Seriously?” I clarified. She nodded.

I grinned at the car keys, splayed in my hands and pocketed them.

“Thanks,” I grinned stupidly, and then I walked to the front door, swinging the keys around my index finger.

Brucie tried to pursue me, but I pushed her inside and promptly shut the door behind me. For a dog, she was quite a nuisance. I traipsed down the driveway to the SUV, parked candidly in its corroded, boat sized glory as sparrows hopped across the bonnet.

I threw open the door and chucked the bag shotgun, then hopped into the driver’s seat, started the engine and carefully backed out of the long drive that lead to our house. Then I began my journey to school.

I wondered if Heidi would bombard me with her friends today. It would suck if she did, and I really didn’t want a recurrence of what happened yesterday.

I wondered why Heidi was so against the Sinclairs. From what she had told me, they never really talked to anyone, so why should she be angry about a mere mishap, which was completely my fault? Maybe Heidi was jealous. If she was, then that seemed to explain it.

The school parking lot was thriving with activity when I pulled in. Just like yesterday, students were sitting on the bonnets of their parents cars, lounging under the shade of sprawling gum trees and hanging out near the school’s entrance. The cheerleaders and the jocks were in the same place they had been in yesterday.

I got out of the Rust Bucket and stared up at the sky, still bright azure with cotton wool clouds. The sun was once again, blinding and hot, but not scorching, because I was standing in the shade.

“Hey!” a memorable, vivacious voice infiltrated my quiet thoughts.

Heidi really needed to stop doing that—popping up out of nowhere with a startling “Hey!” was downright frightening, not to mention a little stalker-ish.

“Hi, Heidi,” I said as I pushed my hands into my pockets.

Without invitation, she climbed onto the bonnet of the Rust Bucket and sat down, and then patted the spot beside her, offering me a place. I shrugged and climbed up beside her, and we stared at the students that filled the lot.