My Boys

Chapter 1

Brookely. My new, and old school. I was here at the beginning of school, but moved before I really got used to it there, barely spending a few days there. Long story short, now I'm back and nervous as hell. As far as new environments go, I've never been good with making myself known, I'm more of the suffer in silence type- and I hate it.

At my primary school, I used to be the most popular person in my year, but now, now nobody even knows my name.

I planned to change that.
Or, rather, I wished I could.

It had now been a few months since I'd moved to Brookely from my old school, and I was already having doubts. I feared that no matter where I went, I'd never really fit in, ever the misfit, the outcast.

I never really understood why I couldn't just be sociable, all I knew was that I couldn't anymore and it never used to be that way.

That's why I left Preston- my old girls school of 2 years. I thought that maybe a change would help me make friends, but soon realised that it was likely not the school, but me.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't bullied or anything. In fact, if anything it would be the other way around. I wasn't unnecessarily malicious towards people or anything, but I just wouldn't take other people's shit. It's a defence mechanism, if you will.

I wasn't ugly, either. I had an averagely built 5'6" frame with tanned skin from my Japanese half of the family, along with brown eyes and brown hair, lightened with blond balayage. I was regularly complimented for my looks and told to be a model.

I was not a stranger to male attention, too, within weeks of my joining I had 3 boys confess their undying love to me! Okay, not really but they told me they were interested. Why, though, I will never quite understand . Not to mention those who did not need words to tell you they liked you, you can just tell, see it in the way they look and act around you. Let's just say I often was the subject to boys stares.

I loose my train of thought as I walk into the classroom.

Art class. You'd think it'd be easy, but not with our teacher, especially with the pointless tasks she set us. They were completely irrelevant and a waste of time when what the class really needed was a proper lesson on their artistic skill.

When I walked into the class at the beginning of the lesson, I almost had an anxiety attack. I walked to my seat and sat down, next to none other than the infamous Alec Sterling. He didn't sit there! Neither did his other friend, sitting across from him on the table.

Ugh, boys.

But not my ones.

Alec was one fine being. His perfectly kept hair and neat trendy clothes made him the object of many girls eyes- including myself.

I contemplated moving to an absent students seat across the class room, but quickly decided against it.

I was not planning on making an enemy of my art teacher by going against her seating plan, even if he was. Lucky for me, the teacher announced that we'd be getting a new seating plan in that lesson, immediately calming my nerves.

As my eyes lifted up to the clock I realised there were only a few minutes left before lesson ended.

Soon after, the bell rang, jolting energy into the class, sending them shooting out of their seats and rushing towards the door.

I sighed, knowing that another day had gone where I was no more successful with my sociability. Oh well.

That evening as I make my way home, my head is filled with thoughts of Alec, school and my family. I've never understood how they could ever even try to accept me, even though I know they don't.

Since I'm a foster child, I have to spend my evenings at home with almost complete strangers. Of course we make small talk, but Linda and David have never really been parents to me.

I guess I should be appreciative of what I've got, but I still can't help but be envious of those with a family they they're really close to- that really care.

"Cali!" Linda calls, "dinner is ready."

"Coming" I reply, taking off my headphones and making my way to the kitchen.

As I enter my senses are overwhelmed by the sweet smell of a home-cooked meal.

I take a seat next to Linda as David is often home late due to his busy job.

"How was school, honey?" She asks sweetly, although I can tell she has no real interest in the matter.

"Fine." I reply generically.

We make small talk about school, her job and just our day in general, until I finish my meal.

"Thank you, Linda. The food was lovely." I say, for both politeness and honesty.

"Of course. Remember you are welcome to call me mom, right? Whenever you feel ready."

I merely smile and nod, for I know that it's unlikely. I love Linda, and she loves me, but we'll never be like a real mother and daughter. When I was taken in by her and David, we seemed like two pieces of a puzzle just waiting to be put together. When their daughter died and my parents passed too, everything seemed to fall into place. Until we spent more time together and realised- we were both waiting for each other to be someone we were not.

We were looking for someone to replace our lost loved ones, and that could never be done.

Walking over to my wardrobe I get my clothes and shower before brushing my teeth and snuggling into bed. I spend some time reading and going on my phone, listening to music before drifting off to sleep. I'm my dreams I think of puppies, holidays and Hunter.

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Vote and comment if you enjoyed! Any advice/ constructive criticism would be appreciated as this is my first book!
Xxxxx