hireath // o.s.

chapter one

     My eyes squinted as the sun beat down on me, the uncomfortable heat making glistening sweat roll down my neck. I stood outside the school, looking at the building that, tomorrow, would be part of my life again. For nearly three months, I had dismissed all that stress that high school caused, and now, it's all back. I took a deep breath, inhaling nicotine from my cigarette. Tomorrow's worries.

     I turned away from the building, walking in the opposite direction. I'm sure there are tons of people excited to be back. For me, every day is just another day. I talk to the same five people. I walk around town, looking for somewhere to sleep. I eat what I can with the money I can find. Nothing ever changes. Not in Boring, Oregon. We truly are boring. 

     Everyone I knew had open doors. Their families were fine with me crashing on the couch for a week or two. Never too long to raise suspicion about why I'm not home. It's only a matter of time before someone figures it out. 

     I walked by the house my parents lived in and stared. They were in the kitchen. They both looked at me. I looked away. There was no going home for me. Darren and Rachel are fine without me. They want me home, but I can't go back.

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     I looked down at my schedule, then up at the busy hallway. I then crumbled it and shoved it into the pocket of my sweater, walking forward. My boots stomped noisily on the floor, but it blended with the hustle and bustle of everyone. Over-prepared freshman and loud seniors, neither of which I belonged to. Right now, I wanted to find Marquis. 

     Marquis was my friend - one of my only friends, in this school. Although his name meant nobleman, he was far from. Marquis was a wannabe Oliver Schermerhorn. He was mostly like this because he knew how much I loved Oliver. I had always had a crush on the tall, trench coat wearing actor. Marquis had always had a crush on me. It just worked that way.

     I found Marquis. He was up against a locker, twirling the hair of some girl named Traci. I rolled my eyes, grabbing his collar and dragging him away. He glared at me, falling back against a set of lockers as I let him go.

     "The hell's your problem?" He muttered, smacking his gum around in his mouth.

     "Have you seen Oliver?" I asked, ignoring his question.

     "When the hell are you gonna get over that guy? He's with Emaline, it isn't worth it. He's an ass-hat anyway." He scoffed, folding his arms. I rolled my eyes.

     "Just tell me where he is," I demanded, slamming my palm against the locker.

     "Aiight. Probably the auditorium." He shrugged. I gave him a fake smile and stomped off, trying to find the tall senior. This was my last year in this hell hole, and I was determined to make it a good one. That means greeting the infamous Oliver on the first day.

     "Christine! The belle herself hath approached me, her undeniable beauty stripping me of my oxygen! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Oliver asked, dramatically circling me. I always wondered how he could make these things up on the spot.

     "Chill, Romeo. Your girlfriend is giving me the death stare. I wanna join drama. I need something on my college resume which might amount to things." I told him, making fierce eye contact.

     "Is what you say true, or are you a wolf in sheep's clothing, Christine? A glorious day, this is! Such beauty, such talent has sprouted in our garden of a theatre! Well, on this merry occasion, I announce that you shall be the Yelena to my Astrov!" Oliver grabs my hand delicately, spinning me.