Untypical

Part I

I'm not the normal teenage girl. In fact, the only thing that's normal about me is I have periods. I do have things normal teenage girls have. I have friends. Beth, Vy, and Sarah. I have a house. I have a dad. I have a phone. But for the most part, I'm not normal. I don't have a mom, she died when I was five. I don't have braces like my three best friends. I could go on and on about this but I don't have enough time.
On this particular day, I'm extra weird. My friends and I were on our way to the movies. The three of us were in the backseat, me in the middle. My friends were all on their phones so I kept wallowing on them and making weird faces. Eventually Beth looked up at me. "Why are you so weird?" She asked, laughing. There was a long, awkward silence before we all just burst into a fit of laughter.
      I liked hanging out with my friends but I never fit in with them when they were on their phones. They don't talk because they're too busy doing something. "Why are you being antisocial?" I whine. "Hold on. We're doing something." I make a frowning face and stare out the window. If Vy were here she would talk to me. After all, Beth and Sarah are the 'hold on I'm doing something' couple. Vy is the friendly one that just wants to hang out with friends- and by hang out with friends she means actually talking and chilling.
      "Why do you guys call me weird? You're weird because with you, hanging out with friends means you're on your phone. That's not my definition, even if I had a phone. That's being antisocial." I make a pouty face. "It's not weird. It's perfectly normal. All the other groups do it." She smirks, her teeth covered in metal. "Yah, so? Vy doesn't do it." I look out the window, my arms still crossed on my chest. "Vy is...," Beth hesitates, trying to find the right word, "special". "What's that supposed to mean?" I snicker. "That she's different. That's all."
      I remain silent. There's nothing, absolutely nothing to say to that. What's worse, the fact that we're all best friends and shouldn't talk to each other about other people in our group. I'm sure they do the same to me when I'm not there to defend myself, but I need to stand up for Vy. If no one wants to stand up for me, they don't have too. But just know that I will stand up for my best friends. "Guys, I feel like we shouldn't be talking about Vy behind her back. That's wrong; we're best friends." That was Sarah. And even though I didn't respond, I agreed with her, one hundred percent.

                                            2
     When we get home I flop on my bed. I pull out my phone and text Beth. "Are we still friends?" And then do the same with Sarah. I text Vy, "hey, how was the party? I stood up for you tonight but I didn't do a very good job. I'm sorry." She was at her cousin's graduation party, that's why she wasn't with us at the movies. I get a text from Beth right when I'm texting Sarah. I finish asking Sarah the same thing I asked Beth and then I open my message from Beth. "I don't know." I didn't bother to respond because what are you going to say to that.
I get a text from Vy. "What happened?" Of course. I should've prepared for her asking that question. What am I going to say, her best friends were talking about her behind her back? I decide to respond with, "just a little incident in the car. That's it." That wasn't the full truth but it wasn't a lie either. Sarah shoots me a text, "we need to go our separate ways. I need a group that doesn't talk about me. I hate to be the one that breaks the news but Beth didn't want to. Good luck." My heart drops as I text Vy, "I guess we're by ourselves now," and prepared to respond back to her asking, 'why, what's going on'.
I create a group chat with Beth, Sarah, and Vy. "It was nice knowing you guys. I'll miss you. Good luck and I hope you enjoy you're new group." Beth said, "bye guys," Sarah said, "I'll miss you so much but I know it's the right thing to do," and Vy said, "I'll always love you guys. Bye and good luck." And then we all deleted each other's numbers and, that was it, our group was gone.
All the memories- four years worth- flooded my brain. The time at the zoo when Beth shot Fanta out of her nose. The time when Sarah fell out of the golf cart. The time Vy played a prank and told us all she was moving. All the pictures and selfies we took. I'll miss those days. I know I'll still have Vy but I'll never have the four of us. No more 'Power of the Cube'. It was a stupid name but we kept because it was original. True, cubes have six sides, but we made that up in, like, third grade. And, most of all, no more three best friends. Now, it's Vy and I versus the world. And if you can't tell, that's not a fair match. But, somehow, with preparation and planning, we can at least put up a good fight. And that, in the long run, is all that matters.

3
    I text my now only one best friend. "So, I guess it's just me and you?" I text her, as a question because she might not want to be friends with me. "Yeah, I guess it is." I get back. Good. That means I'm not by myself. Maybe the other girls will come around and we can all get back together as Beth, Sarah, Vy, and Kat. The 'Power of the Cube'.
    No one at school really paid much attention to any of us and we were all okay with that because we had each other. Now we're all going into eighth grade, the hardest grade of middle school where things get worse than they already were. Which is bad if you were us. And, with Beth and Sarah possibly joining the popular kids and Vy and I being by ourselves, I'm not sure we're going to be able to make it through.
     Vy and I were always close but two versus one hundred something didn't add up. It was hard enough for the four of us to make it, now there were two? How is that going to work? Because of luck, and unfortunately we are not the luckiest people. But if luck happens to be on our side, maybe, just maybe, we can succeed and make it through.

                                          4
   We start school in three weeks. The 'Power of the Cube' have three weeks to get back together. I thought originally it was the argument that caused this on the first place, but last night, when I was trying to fall asleep, I was thinking. And I realized, what if it's the argument and he unpopularity combined? Beth and Sarah every once in a while would complain why no one liked them. So what if it's the argument with the pressure to be popular like everyone else? Wouldn't that make more sense?
    We've gotten into arguments like that before but we always just blew it off and never came back to it. If I can even call it an argument. In fourth grade we didn't care if we were popular or not. But once we got into middle school, tension started rising. We were all still friends, yes, but not like we used to be. We would get into little disputes more often though we would always make up. And now, it's like the slightest thing is hard to let go of. Maybe it's because we're getting older and becoming teenagers. They say teenage years are the hardest. So far, they are. Right now I can handle it, but if it gets worse, I'm scared I won't be able to. And with only two people to help me through, Vy and my dad, I'm nervous that things might get a lot worse. And with six more years to go, that's a very, very good possibility.

                                        5
I see a police car pull in the driveway and instantly my heart starts beating ninety miles an hour. I didn't bother to shout to my dad because he was out running errands. I open the door. "Can I help you?" "Uh, yes," he says, "I have news." I start instantly jumping to conclusions because why would a police just randomly show up at your door. "Your dad," he hesitates for a moment, "got in a car wreck and is in critical condition." I thought my heart was going to stop in my chest. "What?" "Yah. Get your shoes on. I'll take you to see him."
I run to my room and slide my white converse on, not even bothering to put socks on. I do grab a dirty pair out of my floor to put on in the car and run back over to the door. I open the door and run to the police car, slamming it behind me.