Looking Up

Chapter 1

The day could be described as something from a happy romance novel. The sun beats down on the back of my neck as I pick at small pieces of lively grass.

I uncross my legs from their crossed position and kick them out in front of me. I tilt my head back, and allow the heat radiating from the sun to be all there is in this world.

I hear the small creaking sound that could only mean somebody was opening the broken door to my old, red house.

My brother, Asher, stands in the doorway, heaving a sigh of relief. His big, callused hands trace patterns on the rectangular shaped, smooth glass in the door.

"It's really hot out here, Aimee," he says, taking a step forward.

I shrug and push myself to my feet with a groan. I look at my small, pale hands to see that they are covered in a light coat of dirt.

"I like the warmth." I say, shaking my head and forcing a smile.

Asher takes quick footsteps through the long grass to get to me. When he stops, he is so close that I can feel his hot breath tickling at my cheek.

I take a step back out of instinct, like if I don't he will see through all the stone walls I built from anybody knowing what I'm really feeling. Plus, I don't like the feeling of my sixteen year old brother towering over me like he is so much better.

"Are you excited for school next week?" he asks, taking a step back out of respect.

I shrug and look away. I have not been at all excited for eighth grade. It's not on my list of top ten things to do for fun, to be made fun of by some people who think they are so cool.

"Keegan is looking for you," he says, completely ignoring my response.

That's why Asher and I have never been that close. He is the tall, broad jock in his school, and I am the small quiet girl who is way too skinny for her age. I try to hide under baggy clothes, and my long caramel colored hair, but it never works. It makes me a target.

"What does he need?" I ask, harsher than I meant to.

I feel a small cloud of guilt in the back of my mind, but I push it away when I think of all the times when I came home from school, with my face burning from tears, trying to hold myself together.

"He's like your only friend," he reminds me, throwing an arm across my small, hunched shoulders.

I push his arm off of me and back up until I reach the big, worn down rock that brings me a large amount of comfort and relief. It feels like I can finally breathe normally when I'm near it.

I allow my hand to graze the rough surface as I wait for my anger to leave me. It only keeps surging through me with more power with each second I keep it bottled up.

"You know that's not true!" I yell, feeling my face heat up. "I have Bridgett and I have Danny." I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth.

Asher just stares at me wide eyed for a moment, before laughing.

"I'm not trying to be mean little sis, but Danny moved away during the summer," he spits out the words coldly.

I look down at my soft, green flip flops. Even though the color that made me fall in love with them at the beginning of May has faded, it's still all I've

worn all summer.

"I'm sorry I yelled like that," I say through labored breaths.

I narrow my eyes and continue to breathe heavy, painful breathes in a hard attempt to not cry. I haven't cried in front of anybody since the beginning of seventh grade, but that was only just a few tears. I either end up crying at the rock I sit on now, or in my empty room.

"It's ok," he says calmly. "I still love you."

I laugh as a way to clear the tension that is heavy in the air, although I feel the hurt stacking up like a dozen books on my heart.

"Now," I say softly. "Why did Keegan need to see me?"

I start walking a little closer to Asher, so he doesn't think I hate him. I could never hate somebody, not even the people who bully me. I mostly hate myself for their bullying. I mean it is my fault that people feel that way about me.

He shrugs then says, "Something about you teaching him how to add."

I put a hand on my slightly moist forehead and sigh. "I thought they learned that in preschool," I say under my breath.

He laughs quietly as a small gust of wind blows a green leaf onto my leg. "Maybe it's some five year old stage," he suggests with a goofy grin on his thin lips.

I chuckle under my breath, and take a moment to enjoy the quiet of the trees blowing around me, and the green leaf on my thin leg.