I'll Always See You

Chapter 2 - Senior Year Means...

I  Dark hair a little on the long and shaggy side starkly opposed my wild, wild curls; falling over his forehead and bringing out the slight bit of color brushed high across his cheekbones in an otherwise pale face. His blue eyes a shade darker than ice and a shade lighter than cornflower sparkled with amusement. [eyes] They could spark with temper, laughter, or switch between the two with a startling intensity. 

"Dear diary," I said out loud as I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. "Today is day one of my senior year. I still don't actually use a diary because I still suck at using one. I still talk to myself apparently, I still don't want to get out of bed, and I still hate high school."

At least I'm pretty sure I still hate high school. No, never mind, I haven't even set foot in mine yet this fall and I already still hate it. I begrudgingly sat up, counted that pathetic sit-up as my workout quota for the day fulfilled, and threw my legs over the edge of the bed. I sat there for another second, now staring at the floor, before willing myself to my feet.

Today was indeed day one of my senior year. I'd basically floated through freshman, sophomore, and junior years. No, wait, floated implies it was effortless and easy. Okay, so I bitterly trudged through my first three years, keeping my head down and taking it day by day. The one bright spot has always been Matt. Matt's amazing. He's my twin brother, twelve minutes older than me or something, and he thinks he gets to be in charge of most things due to it. In reality, he's been my saving grace since middle school. I'd have either been eaten alive by the popular squad or probably been seriously tempted to kill someone by now out of sheer annoyance if not for him.

I reached over and scooped the clean clothes that I'd laid out the night before off my desk. A quick check of the clock on my phone told me that I would have to hurry to get ready. A quick shower later, I dried off and put on my most basic first-day-of-school outfit. I slipped into blue jeans and a band tee, pulled a light jacket on and forced a hairbrush through my wet curls. I have the kind of curls that if I don't brush out all the way or use gel to tame when I wear it down, I'd undoubtedly end up having a really bad white-girl-afro situation going on.

I went around my room and was gathering things up, shoving them into my beaten up backpack. I yanked the zipper up on my backpack after three tries, took one last glance around my room to make sure I had everything, and then walked out and swung the door shut behind me. I took the stairs down to the kitchen, spotting my dad as I rounded the corner. He reached out and gave me a preoccupied side-hug while balancing a cup of coffee with the other hand.

"Where's Matt?" I asked my dad.

He blinked at me a couple of times before taking a sip of coffee and shrugging a shoulder towards the steps. "Probably still up there."

"He doesn't even barely need to brush his hair. I don't understand what could possibly take him this long every single morning. We're going to be late for the first day again." At my complaints, my dad just chuckled and aimlessly wandered out of the kitchen, probably to get ready for work.

I turned my back and opened the fridge, reaching in to pull a container of juice out. I turned around again and set my backpack on the counter, trying to shove the square juice bottle into one of the side pockets. I could hear Matt coming long before I could see him. I turned around to watch my brother miscalculate and almost tumble down the remainder of the steps with his usual long-legged grace. Matt squared himself up and threw his bag over his shoulder, half-running over to the counter and reaching over barstools to grab a banana.

Tall and muscular, burnished red-brown hair reminiscent of Mom's strawberry blonde locks just barely touched his forehead, usually cut close but grown out a little longer over the summer. Blue eyes turned onto me with a flicker of amusement. I had always thought that whenever he tried to look nonchalant those eyes gave him away every time. All that was missing from athletic Matt that morning was the stereotypical football tucked under his arm, painting the picture of a blossoming young star ready to hit the field with his fellow jocks. In all reality though, he was one of the school's best quarterbacks since my dad (according to him, anyway) had played.

Matt tossed an apple at me, interrupting my thoughts. I scrambled to catch it, almost pulling my backpack onto the floor. He laughed. "Ready to go?"

I hiked my bag up and nodded. "Yup, ready."

We headed to the door and I threw a hollered goodbye over my shoulder to Dad somewhere in the house. Matt slid into the driver's seat and tossed his backpack into my lap. As we pulled away from the curb, I silently stared out the window and watched the neighborhood roll past.

Senior year. Senior year means almost done with school. No more school means escape. Escape means getting away from a choking town and a dead-end place. Wherever I go, Matt'll have to come with me. We decided in the fifth grade that's how it going to work and you better believe I plan on holding him to that. My dad would have to come along too of course, maybe a few years after. I half-listened to my brother rattling off something about football as we wove through the mellow suburban streets until we reached the main road. With a dull interest I glanced up at the rearview mirror to see if there were any cars behind us as Matt checked for oncoming traffic.

My little family was the best, and probably the only good thing, about my life here. Friends were few and far between and I had no boyfriend to speak of, and I wasn't so sure I believed that even that could turn things around for me. If you can't be happy in a place by yourself, is another person going to do the trick for you? I don't know. Maybe I'll find out one day. I blinked a few times and tried to pay attention to the trees as they passed through the window. I shook off my thoughts and reservations about the year and listened to Matt. It only took a few minutes for him to have me laughing. Rare happiness that only existed with him washed over me in a wave and I smiled through the tears of laughter forming in my eyes. We pulled into the school parking lot, found a spot and got out. Matt gallantly held out his arm for me and I linked mine through it with a grin, shoving against him and making us laugh again. I already knew which classes he was taking, and knowing I'd see him later at lunch; so walking into the hallway full of students, I said goodbye and forced myself to turn away, starting senior year.

 My eyes connected with stormy ones as they looked up to check the mirror and I paused for a second. He seemed surprised to have met my eyes and looked back to the road, turning the car.