The Days Of Kelsea's

(10) Kelsea - Wednesday 15th August, 12.17 p.m., Living Room

(10) Kelsea - Wednesday 15th August, Midnight., Living Room

Well. Today was interesting.

‘Interesting’ is a word someone uses when they don’t want to be mean when someone asks them about a new shirt. A word used when you’re looking for words to describe an event that happened – when something is neither good or bad – just different. So. Today was interesting.

As usual, I was the first one up at home. I decided I’d go out for a jog after I stuck my head out the window and found that it was warm. A nice warm morning breeze with the sun high in the sky, which only had a few wispy clouds streaked across it. I pulled on my shorts, a tank top and Converse. Tied up my hair.

As I passed Lucy’s room on the way down I remember stopping and then silently going to her door. It never occurred to me how much my sister looks like me. yet everything about her seems so much more beautiful than I am.

Because of who she is.

Innocent, small, young. Yet so brave. She’s seen things that kids even my age wouldn’t have even experienced in their worst nightmares. Lucy’s the careful sister of a careless, selfish girl. Who can’t even see when her family need her. Lucy was sick last night. I heard her throwing up in the bath room next door.

No one came to see if she was alright. Mother and daughter alike – both lying in bed, not caring, because we were both waiting for the other one to get up first.

How pathetic are we?

I left the house without any breakfast. I’m never hungry in the mornings – even though Gram insists that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I jogged down the usual way, and wouldn’t you know? Kale Atticus was there. This is starting to become a regular occurrence – whenever I walk past, he’s always there. What time does this guy get up every morning?

He was sprawled across the bonnet of his truck with its faded paintwork and dusty surfaces. He had his earphones to his iPod on, eyes closed. The wheat-coloured hair was careless and as touchable as ever.

I was surprised when I was the first to puncture the sleepy morning air, seen as he obviously was half-asleep, and I said, “Early bird, are we?”

He just stayed there, silently. I glanced at his feet, tapping softly against the car metal in time to the world of music pulsing through his ears.

I surprised myself again, by sliding up onto the car beside him. Only then did he sense me. I remember laughing as practically wrenched the earphones off of his head, and they fell to the pavement with a clatter. Then the sea green eyes were open again. (Well, they’re more blue than green, but they’re just, green, you know? Okay, hard to explain, but . . . I’ll just call them green for now.)

“Hey,” he exclaimed, slightly breathlessly.

I don’t know what was wrong with me this morning – must have been something in the air. Because I smiled. Broadly. “What are you doing out here so early?” It had to be at least seven o’clock.

I could see he was comforted by my presence, and for some reason it made me happy. Maybe he wasn’t such a jerk after all. Gosh, am I THAT desperate? Because I feel so unwanted to everyone? (Well, except Kale Atticus, I now know. Maybe we could be good friends.)

I remember watching him bend down over the side of the truck to get his head phones and iPod, and his shirt lifted, flashing Calvin Klein printed on the waistband of his boxers, and tanned, smooth-looking skin. God, remind me again why I remember this stuff?) The conversation went by in w whirl after that. It was something like this.

“I’m always out early,” he replied, his eyes never leaving mind. “It’s nice to just sit here, and you know . . . Watch things happen.”

He looked like he might have wanted to say more, but was refraining himself. Instead, he asked me why I was out earlier than usual.

“Have you been keeping tabs on when I normally come out?” I exclaimed. Pretending to be horrified.

He laughed, the lines near his eyes creasing, his white teeth gleaming. It was the whole lion effect again, only today he looked like a cute lion cub. That laugh made me smile. It took me a while to realise that I hadn’t been this relaxed in ages.

“I can’t help but notice,” he told me charmingly. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

For once, I was enjoying myself. So we talked. I told him I was going on a jog and he asked why. I didn’t lie, but I didn’t go into too much detail.

“Oh, I just wanted to get out of the house. It’s not sunny like this every morning.” I was pretty sure my voice sounded so cringe-worthing-ly bright, but I had to keep the mood light.

What was going on? Even know, even all day, I haven’t been able to understand. I mean, we were both talking to each other normally all of a sudden! Without me being sarcastic or swearing or irritable and without him being (too) flirty, or trying to annoy me. And I was enjoying myself! And allowing myself to appreciate his handsomeness without scolding myself. May I repeat – what was going on?!

“How’s your sister?” he went on. “Christiana said she hadn’t seen her in a while.”

I didn't know what the hell he was talking about at first. But thenI remembered- of course. Lucy used to play out on the road with Christianna - his sister - and some other kid who I think was called Jake. That was up until about April, so . . . four months ago? She told me that they started going off and leaving her, sometimes making fun of what she said. I think Christianna is about fourteen and so is the other guy.

I remember Lucy complaining. But being the selfish sister I am, I didn't take much notice of it. Today was the first time I realised that Lucy's on the verge of breaking - silently - and there's nothing I'm doing to help.

Suddenly I was irritated with Kale Atticus. His sister is a downright little monstrosity, I bet. No - I know. No betting. I have to trust my sister's words, even though the monstrosity description were my words - not Lucy's (she just said Christiana was mean).

The next words I said were, "Lucy's fine. She's stopped playing out though." I'm sure my voice was ice cold. I didn't care though. In fact, I was glad!

Then I told him I'd see him later, and the sad little lion face came over him again like before as I slid off the car. But I didn't care - right?

No. I didn't. I DON'T.

I jogged and walked around town for the next to hours. I was starting to feel the guilt settling in. Piling on top of more guilt about Lucy. I sat on the swings at the park and watched all these other families having fun. I know that'll never be us.

My family's broken. And so is everyone in it.

Kelsea x