Everything Ripples

03

Chapter 03
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{music for the chapter:// Arrows by Roscoe James Irwin}
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Glaring at both my parents, I reluctantly chuck my bag into the back of the car, smirking when it hits the sides. My father gasps quietly, and I can see the look of horror on his face. This car is his baby, and he hates when we use it, but my mother's car is broken. My mother places a hand on his shoulder before strolling over and gently putting her bag next to mine.

"You could treat him with a little more respect, Sydney. He's your father," my mother states, brushing away a lock of hair from my face. I close my eyes, wishing I had different parents.

"Why should I, when he treats me like dirt?" I reply coldly, pushing past her and hopping into the backseat. I hear her sigh and walk over to the passenger side. Plugging in my earphones, I block out their voices as my father gets in and starts the engine, cruising his way out of our driveway and away from our house.

Music flows through me, and I'm in a state of peace and tranquility. Trees blur past as I stare out the window, humming along to the song playing. Beside me, my beloved camera sits, waiting to be used. I don't go anywhere without it. When I was ten, my father forgot my birthday, so to make up for it, he bought me this huge DSLR camera. And I treasure it dearly, even if it is the only thing I like from him.

"Sydney, can you take those wretched things out of your ears? Your mother is trying to talk to you," my father yells angrily, and I remove my earphones with a growl. Turning to face me, my mother places a weak smile on her lips and sighs.

"I just wanted to know what you were planning to do about next year?"

I look at her, confused.

"Next year? What's happening now next year?"

"The move?"

"Yes I know that. Why will that affect my life?"

My mother sighs again and mumbles something to my father, who grunts in response.

"I'm just talking about your friends, and your education. I was wondering if you had taken a look at the schools in the area," she says warily, as if she's hiding something.

"Well, I don't exactly agree with the whole move, so I've decided to not do anything," I retort.

My mother falters, and mumbles something before slumping back into her seat, clearly exhausted for the conversation. I hold an angry look on my face, but plug my earphones in and close my eyes.

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The engine cuts, and I jolt awake.

"Gas," my father says curtly. I scowl and ease myself out of the car, stretching my legs. Being cooped up in the back of an old sports car isn't the most comfortable, especially for more than half an hour. Yawning, I spot my mother in the store, and I head over.

A wave of air hits me as I walk through the doors. I don't blame them for cranking the air conditioning; it's way too hot outside. I think I can feel the sweat trickling down my face. I scan the various items on the shelves, all of then tacky and overpriced.

"Sydney, come here. We can find you some sunglasses," my mother calls from across the store. People glance in my direction, and I lower my head, not liking the attention. As I walk swiftly to my mother, I look up and catch the eye of a guy by the magazines, staring at me with an aloof expression. When he notices I'm staring right at him, he grins, his mouth all lopsided. I avert my eyes, my cheeks heating up.

"Sydney!" my mother hisses, and I snap my head around to face her. Slumping my shoulders, I shuffle over to where she stands by the glasses.

"Ah, these would look nice on you," she exclaims, and places the most hideous sunglasses I have ever seen on my face. Yellow and brown spots cover the frame, over a red base. The glasses were in a 60's kind of style, with the edges curved upwards. I attempt to smile, but what comes out is me just baring my teeth. I'm about to take them off and put the back, but seeing the excited look in her face made me stop.

"They're great," I say quietly, and she beams.

"Wonderful! Buy them," my mother smiles, and hands me $20.

Turning on my heel, I carry the awful glasses to the counter, waiting behind some woman and her kid.  The cashier is an older woman, with red lipstick smeared around her mouth and her grey hair in a tight bun. I fiddle with my hair, twirling it around my finger as I wait for my turn.

Suddenly, I feel someone standing exceptionally close to me. I can feel their arm brushing mine and their hot breath on my neck. Turning, I see the guy who was staring at me before. My eyes widen, and I shuffle away from him. He grins, the corner of his eyes crinkling, and moves closer.

"Do I know you?" I ask hesitantly, edging away.

"No," he replies, giving me a smirk and brushing his arm on my shoulder. "But I'd like you to,"

"Excuse me?"

He lets out a low chuckle. "My name's Hunter."

I blink at him and am about to reply, when the cashier coughs and my attention is averted. I smile apologetically and walk up, leaving Hunter standing, waiting for my answer.

"$2.50," the woman says, and I hand over the money.

"Thanks," I reply when she gives my glasses and my money back, and head for the door. I can see my mother outside, a hand shading her eyes. An arm blocks my path, and I look up to see Hunter, his bright blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You never told me your name," he smirks. I duck under his arm and open the door. Turning back, I see him staring at me with a forlorn look on his face.

"Sydney," I reply. "My name's Sydney."