Married to Mr. Mysterious

Chapter 2- Who is Ray Tanner?

"Bye Liv!"

"See ya Liv"

"Text me Livi!"

"Talk to ya later Livs"

"Wanna hang later Liv?"

"Skype me Liv"

"Did you grab you graduation sheet Oliva?"

"Wish there was next year to see you again!"

"Any plans for the summer Livi?"

"Livi! Wait up! I wrote my number down so we can text!"

"Livi Baby! Why won't you go out with me?"

This is it, I think to myself. The last day of Senior year. I get an over abundance of Goodbyes from all around me. Some from friends, from nerds, jocks, and even people I had never seem before. I send good byes and even some replies to my 'followers' as most call them. I hop in my car and exit the lot for what I hope will be the last time.

A kaleidoscope of past memory's make their way to my mind, flashing before my eyes. Disappearing quickly making way for more to take their places. I see mini me making my way up the stairs to my first day of school, when i was in middle school and I accidentally slammed multiple locks of hair in my locker when Chance Adams walked by me, my first time going to a high school party, when I fell asleep while watching a group of kinder gardeners and they had drawn on my face, when i was dared to go in te boys bathroom and saw the principal doing his 'business', when Karen Stilks accidentally stepped on my show string and I ended up tackling my science teacher, and many other memory's.

A tear makes its way down my cheek, this moment is when I realize how much I am going to miss school. I am taken from my thoughts as I pull up to the oh so familiar pale yellow house with the red roof and shutters.

I walk up the rocky pathway and open the summer screen door. I set my gladiator sandals in their place on the shoe rack handing on the closet door. I also hang up my cropped white leather jacket on a random hanger, and close the door.

Once in the kitchen, I go to a cupboard and grab my old colored on orange cup. Then I fill it with one of my favorite homemade drinks, cherry liminade. I add a few pinches of sugar to the mixture, because my father always makes it to his liking,which is to sour for me.

I make my way up the memory filled creaky stairs. I walk down the picture plastered hallway and open up the third door on the right, my room. I lay on my bed and look at my yearbook. I hadn't had the chance to take a look at it because I had been bombarded with people asking for signatures and/or asking to sign my yearbook.

The first page is home to a list of each of every student in their senior years' full name. There is a photo of all of our shoes lined up to spell out 2013. There is also a picture of each of our signed handprints. As soon as you enter the high school hallways, you will see hand prints with their owners signature and the year they had graduated. It has become a tradition since '84 to have your hand printed on the wall when you graduate.

Next there is a few pages dedicated to yet again seniors. They have a recent picture and baby picture along with options such as 'favorite quote', 'favorite memory of school' and more. I recognize everyone but one person. There isn't a picture of him but it says his name is Ray Tanner. After looking through those there are pictures of the Juniors, sophomores, and freshmen. There are sports, electives, and random picture pages. My favorite is where we all vote for Best and Worst along with Most likely.

I was voted many times for this category. I was voted for best personality, most likely to become rich, best dresses, school spirit, most likely to be president, and a few more category's. It takes me forty-five minuets to complete the yearbook from cover to cover. I then look in the index for the mystery kid. There are three pages listed. The first is the blank one. The next shows him riding out of the parking lot on a motorcycle. The last shoes him leaning against a wall with a hoodie on but it is too dark to see his face. I become curious as to who Ray Tanner is but I ignore it. Once finished I go to my closet and I find a change of clothes. I dress in a pair of yoga shorts and a matching sports bra, the usual outfit I wear on my runs.

I walk out the door after grabbing my iPod, headphones, and water bottle. And I slip on my Nike running shoes on the old creaky porch swing. I set my goal as 3 miles and I set up the route. I run all the way to Fruity My Loopy Ice Cream & More!. Don't ask me what Ms. Condenteine was thinking when she had named the place. When I asked her she said she hadn't a clue either.

I get my usual Birthday Cake ice cream in a sugar come topped with a cherry. Most of the time...all of the time, she doesn't charge me. I always protest but then give in. I had worked for Ms. Condenteine from 8th grade to the start of Senior year. I had to quit so I could get more work on my studies and so I could have more time applying to college. She had easily understood, which i had been very grateful about her doing so.

Her and I seemed to easily connect and even though she is in her mid 70's. She has been trying to set me up with her grandson for the past few years. I haven't met him yet but I decline her offer every time. I don't believe I need to be in any serious relationship for a while.

I finish my ice cream and ended the conversation with Ms. Condenteine because it was getting dark and I had a mile and a half to go home. She and i said our goodbyes and hugged before i went out the door and sprinted to my house.

When I got home I saw father sitting in the old creaking porch swing, waiting for my arrival, as he normally does.

"Hey, Sweetheart. How was your last day of school?" He asked as I say next to him.

"It was fine. I am really going to miss that place. I have a lot of memory's in the building. Or because of it."

Father nods his head in an understanding fashion.

"I picked up your graduation papers today on my way home. I figured you would forget. And what do ya know! You forgot them" he says with a chuckle.

I thank him and we make our way inside. I put a tee shirt I had in the closet on and I set my shoes on the floor mat. We walk our way to the dining room table. That has become chipped and stained from years of ware.

I take my seat across from my father as he hands me a stack of papers to sign.

"I read through them all before to make sure they were correctly done. I also added some extras for you to sign. They are clarifying that you get my belongings if anything were to happen to me." He says. Then he shows me where and how to sign, whether I should initial, print, or put my signature on the line.

"Ok" I say and then I thank him. We then eat and go to our rooms to sleep.