August 2015
Senior year was a year in high school that most kids either looked forward to and extremely dreaded. Excitement was only there for the reason that it was the last year of four years of hell, and the resentment because it was yet another entire year that a teenager had to go through for the sake of getting a sheet of paper and a handshake that may or may not get you into the college of your choice- if you even want to go to college.
I, on the other hand, just plain dreaded going back. I had not been to school nor even left my property since the end of Sophomore year. Homeschooled my junior year for-as stated to the town officials, police, and school board- "personal reasons", my admittedly extravagant house was my safe haven. My state had given me a year's time, and that time was up.
"I got this," I muttered, running a shaking hand threw my wavy hair one last time as I put a snapback over it, hoping to make any part of myself unrecognizable. "It's just one more year."
"Artemis!" My mother's shrill voice came from downstairs. I glanced to the door, then the clock, realizing it was almost time for the school bus to stop for my house. Yes, I had my license, even my own car, but apparently my mother had the crazy thought that getting back on the school bus so I could reconnect with all my old friends was the best way to start the year. Though on that I disagreed, I wasn't about to take my gold and black mustang into a parking lot full of rundown and barely running 1997 Fords.
"Coming!" I said as loud as I could without yelling. I grimaced into the mirror one last time before adjusting my hoodie, grabbing my bag, and heading off.
I loudly closed the door behind me to make it known I had left, taking a deep breath and standing by the door as I waited- five minutes later finally watching the bus drive by.
Fuck that noise.
I shouldered my bag and began quickly making my way to Jacob -my cousin's- house with my headphones in, listening to my all but deafening music to try and drown out my thoughts on the oncoming day.
Humming along, I reached one hand into my bag on my back to pull my phone out, feeling the buzz.
Jake.
"I'm coming, I'm coming." I muttered as I pooled for it. "Hold your da-Hey!"
I jerked back, tumbling to the ground in a scramble, popping my head against the concrete of the road.
"Shit," I heard from behind me as I opened my eyes and tried to make the world stop moving. "Are you okay?"
"Do I look okay to you?" I snapped.
"Don't answer that." I went to stand then fell back to the ground.
"Here, give me your arm." The guy said, his tone slightly exhasperated. I lifted my arm and felt a firm hand take a hold of it and felt another arm wrap around my waist and help me stand. I fell slightly into his body and took a deep breath in from pain.
"You reek of death." I mumbled without thinking. The boy stared at me for a second in shock, before muttering something to himself and saying, "You're welcome."
"Thanks...I guess." I said warily. I had my eyes closed again, trying to focus my balance, but I opened my eyes and took a strong intake of my breath.
"I don't know you." I said immediately. He raised an eyebrow.
"No, you don't. Is that a problem?" He asked, his voice uncertain and full of confusion.
"Well, no...it's just odd. Town's small and all." I explained, slowly prodding the spot on my head that had slammed against the concrete and wincing.
