Perfectly Imperfect 1

4- Facebook-less?

KAYLA:

I swung the door shut behind me, piano music welcoming me home. Absentmindedly, I rubbed my hand across my forehead.

"Elle-elephant, you're back!" 

He doesn't know how much it hurts, I thought, looking at my elder brother.

"Yeah, how was school, Elle-bear?"

I sighed. Two pairs of eyes immediately looked at me with concern. Sean came over and pulled me into a tight hug.

"Don't worry, the first day of school is always the worst, kiddo," he said sadly, rubbing my back.

"I'm fine, it's nothing. How come the both of you aren't in University?"

Two wicked grins flashed back.

"Aww, come on Elle-bear, don't give us a hard time!"

"Yeah, we're grown-ups now, we can take care of ourselves!"

"Pssh, grown ups my foot! You guys are only 19!" I muttered back, pretending to be upset with them. Of course, both of them knew as well as I did that I could never stay mad at them for more than 10 seconds; they were a pair of jokers, the two of them, and always knew how to make me laugh.

Despite all the teasings, they loved me and I adored them back.

But perhaps I should tell you a thing or two about my family before I continue. I, Elle Kayla Thomas, am 17, and am the third out of four children. My twin brothers, Sean and Ivan are 19, and are currently enrolled in the University of Warwick, which, coincidentally, was only a 10 minutes drive away from our new home. Brilliant footballers and straight-A students, they had both earned a full scholarship from the University, which meant that they could always get away with asking for more money from my parents.

After all, they confided in me, they had just saved our parents nearly £30,000, so why not spend it on them, no?

My youngest sister, Emma, is only 8, but she already had a diploma in music. 

Mr and Mrs Thomas are professionals in their respective fields; Father's a partner in a law firm, Mother's an Accountant.

Like I said, my entire family's an overachiever. Everyone but me, at least.

After dodging sympathetic glances from my brothers and successfully avoiding my sister, who wanted to give me a blow-by-blow account on what happened during her first day of school, I threw myself on my bed, thinking about my day. Or rather, how I was supposed to survive high school for the next two years. Almost immediately, though, I thought about Cal.

What a funny guy, I thought to myself. Despite the negative stereotypes popular kids usually have, he did look honest in wanting to get to know me earlier. And he did help me with my books although he could have easily walked away. 

And there was also something in the way his honey-coloured eyes flickered when he asked me whether I was okay. I may have issues with my confidence and all, but I do believe I can spot a decent guy when I see one.

But, what would a guy as... perfect as he want to do with a girl like me?

A new kid, no less.

I walked over to the mirror, stepping over bags I still hadn't unpacked. A pale girl with long brown locks stared back at me, her green eyes still slightly puffed. Exhaling a sigh, I ran my fingers through my hair, twisting it. 

Why did I have to look so... boring?

All my other siblings were incredibly good looking, with model features and blond hair from my mother's side of the family; while I, the middle child, just had to inherit the tresses of brown from my father. The only thing my siblings and I shared were our eyes. Emerald green. Yet somehow, their eyes sparkled beautifully, whilst mine remained... dull.

I flopped on my bed again. Middle child syndrome, I decided sadly.

---

That night, I logged into my Facebook account. My old friends had left me comments on my wall, wishing me well. Dutifully, I replied to their comments, pretending that everything was fine. 

After replying to a grand total of five comments, I stared at the screen idly, having nothing better to do.

Suddenly, though, I had an unexplainable urge to check on someone. Trouble was, I didn't know his full name.

Undeterred, I typed and pressed the enter button.

I mean, Cal's an unusual name, isn't it? How many Cal's could they be in the world?

Three names came up.

Cal Lim (Calvin Lim).

Nope.

Cal Evertson.

An old man. Possibly a pedophile, I thought to myself wryly.

CAL- Organization

I frowned. 

Surely it isn't possible that a school jock doesn't have a Facebook account, is it?

I mean, what could he possibly have to hide from the world?