Like Snow

~Chapter One~

~Chapter One~



I wandered aimlessly through the house, seeking any form of distraction to avoid the inevitable. School. Making my way towards the kitchen, I heard Dad on the phone. I peered around the corner and saw him with one hand gripping the edge of the counter and the other tightly wrapped around the phone. Who was he talking to that made him so tense? My eyes squinted as a futile attempt to overhear his conversation. He ended the call with a gruff "goodbye". The clock on the wall made my eyes widen and stopped me from confronting him about the phone call; instead, I went to my bedroom.



My house was a sizable and overly exposed two-story building. Each of the four bedrooms, plus the living room, had at least one entire wall that was made of glass. Dad had hired an architect to design this house to his precise specifications due to the fact that he had always been one for natural lighting. Liking my privacy, I made sure to put of curtains in my room considering two out of the four walls were windows. Though my room was spacious, I only had my bed, a small couch, and a coffee table occupying it. What could I say? I lived for simplicity.



Hurriedly, I grabbed my school uniform from my closet and then into my adjoined bathroom. After my shower, I used my index finger to draw my name in the condensation before wiping it away, leaving only my reflection. My toffee brown hair stuck to my back and my collarbones were flushed from the high water temperature. I slipped on my black and navy plaid skirt, along with my light blue collared shirt and grey sweater. Lastly, I pulled on a pair of wool socks and laced up my short black boots.



This time, when I entered the kitchen, Dad wasn't on the phone, nor was he alone. Keaton, my younger brother by a year, was sitting on a stool while eating a bowl of cereal. He looked up briefly at me and mouthed the word "loser" before redirecting his attention to his breakfast. Despite being younger than me, he was two inches taller than my 5'7. We looked relatively alike with brown hair and green eyes, though his nose and cheeks were dusted with light freckles while mine were not.



"School starts in twenty minutes. If the two of you are late again, I won't be calling the office to excuse it," Dad warned.



Keaton and I groaned simultaneously in response. "You know," Keaton said to Dad, "if you'd get Emerson and I a car, we would'n't be late."



Though Dad owned the local hospital and we were well off, he refused to get us a car, claiming that we'd become spoiled. That being so, we are forced to endure the fifteen-minute walk to Riverdell High.



Dad's brow raised at my brother's suggestion. "Is that so?"



"Yup. So, what do you say?"



"I think... you're funny," Dad responded, chuckling.



After Keaton washed his dishes, I grabbed my navy blue peacoat and backpack and we headed out. As we reached the school grounds, Keaton ruffled my hair and, with a quick "later", he headed off to meet with his friends. I, on the other hand, went straight to Microbiology.



My hobby was observing. I knew practically everything about everyone, despite the fact that I hadn't interacted with any of them. I recognized the girl in front of me to be Kayla Schmidt and to her left was her boyfriend of eight months Parker Roth, neither of them seeming to be able to keep their public displays of affection to a minimum. To my right was Isabella Wright, student body president. Though she desperately tried to spread Grizzly Pride, nobody bothered to listen. And behind me was Seth Riley. He was on the basketball team and, according to most girls, quite the panty-dropper with his pretty boy looks. When I first came to Riverdell a few months ago, he would occasionally try to strike up a conversation or ask to borrow a pencil when I knew he had one in his backpack. But once I was given the nickname Snow Queen, he stopped trying. I don't know if he was the one who came up with it because I would ignore his advances or if it was someone else who thought they knew me, but I didn't care.



After the daily bulletin was announced, Mr. Wallace passed around a stack of paper, instructing us to take one and pass it around. "I'm assigning a new project that will be done in pairs. You and your partner will be given an unknown bacteria and it will be both of your jobs to discover its species by performing various tests. On the sheet of paper that I have just handed out, it has all of the requirements you must have for your lab practical write-up that will be due in two weeks. After I read off the pairs, I want one of you to come up and retrieve your petri dish and and other necessary items."



I stopped listening after that and decided to concentrate on what was going on outside. The abrupt icy rain clattered on the windows like a ceaseless chorus line of rhythm-impaired tap dancers. I mentally kicked myself for not having foreseen the weather. If I had, I would have brought an umbrella. The weather in Riverdell was nothing if not unpredictable. It was sunny just a few minutes ago. Granted, there were clusters of cumulous clouds here and there but that was expected here.



"What's so interesting? You've been staring out that window almost all period."



I inclined my head to see the infamous Weston Verbeck leaning against the wall beside my desk. He was the captain of the lacrosse team and, despite him being a senior like myself, was the best friend of my brother. West had short chestnut brown hair that was gelled to stick up in the front, a strong, chiseled jaw, and dark blue eyes. One side of his mouth turned up into a half-smile that could only be classified as mischievous. If I could get past his arrogant attitude, which I am unable to, I'd think he was charming. Other girls at school don't have my problem; they find his self-importance to be sexy. 



"What do you want?" I snapped.



He clucked his tongue at me disapprovingly. "Well," he said, "that wasn't very nice."



"Why are you bothering me?" I asked.



"Don't flatter youself, Snow Queen. If my grade wasn't on the line, I wouldn't even be over here talking to you."



I cocked my head to the side. "What do you mean?"



"You're my partner for this lame ass project."



I rolled my lip into my mouth. "Oh," I said lamely.



"Yeah, oh," he smirked, obviously finding satisfaction in my discomfort.



I rolled my eyes at his insolent behavior. How my brother is able to put up with him, I will never know. West was the perfect example of what Dad didn't want Keaton and I to turn out like. He was the epitome of a spoiled rich brat. 



As the bell rang, I placed my hands on the desktop and pushed myself up. "I'll go get the things for our project," I announced.



Just as I started to walk away, he caught my arm. "Wait," he said, digging around in his pockets. "Here."



I looked down at what he was holding out to me. It looked like a small piece of notebook paper. I hesitantly took it and as I read what was on it, it dawned on me. He was giving me his phone number. Did he always carry around his number with him? He would do something like that.He probably kept copies of his number with him in case he saw a hot girl. I looked at him quizically and this time it was he who rolled his eyes.



"Text me after school so that I'll have your number. For educational purpose, of course," he said with a wink.



And before I could reply, he had spun on his heels and disappeared into the sea of people.

~*~*~*~

When school ended, Keaton and I began our walk home… in the pouring rain. This is yet another reason why we should get a car. Anyways, a few minutes later, a truck pulled up beside us. When we looked up, none other than Weston Verbeck himself was poking his head through the window. Water began invading his truck and spraying his face but he didn’t seem to mind much. I could only imagine what Keaton and I must’ve looked like, our clothes drenched and our hair plastered to the sides of our faces.

“Get in,” he ordered.

I opened my mouth to protest when Keaton elbowed me in the side, giving me a stern look. Defeated, I walked around to the other side of the truck and slide in, Keaton following in pursuit. Great. Now I was sandwiched in between my annoying younger brother and his even more annoying best friend.

Thankfully, West turned on the heater which dissolved the Goosebumps that covered my legs almost instantly. He and Keaton began talking about their next lacrosse game against the high school in the next town over. At some point in their conversation, Keaton mentioned something about kicking their asses, making West laugh. It was one of those genuine, full-hearted laughs, not his usual condescending chuckles.

I watched him closely, indifferent to the fact that he probably thought I was checking him out. I guess, in a way, I was though. West was striking to say in the least, though I’d never admit it. Let’s just say that he wasn’t known for his modesty. A little while later, we had pulled up in front of our house.

“Thanks for the lift dude,” Keaton said, slapping his shoulder before getting out.

“Don’t you have something you want to say to me?” West asked after a moment of awkward silence. 

He stared at me expectantly, obviously pining for me to express my gratitude, but I just licked the water from my lips and turned away, following my brother into the house.