Wish You Weren't Here

The Boy of My Nightmares

The Boy of My Nightmares

I stare into my own dark, green-grey eyes in my mirror, trying to decide what to wear. The first day of school is important, especially for senior year. I hold up one of my favorite tops, then throw it back down. Too cliche. I press a spunky dress up against my body, then toss it into the unwanted pile. Too wild. I am not wild. I'm ordinary and normal. I wouldn't say good girl, but I'd definitely say average teen. I go to parties, sneak out of the house, rebel against my parents for stupid reasons - just like any other 18-year-old girl starting her senior year of high-school.

Finally, I admit to myself that my best friend, Kris, is much more experienced than me when it comes to fashion and overall girly-ness, and pick up my phone to call her. She answers almost immediately.

"Hey, girl! What's up?" She asks.

Before I could even open my mouth, she interrupts, "Wait! Let me guess - need help for Monday?"

"How'd you know?" I ask her.

"I know you better than anyone in this world ever has, does, or will, Spring. Plus, judging from what you've been wearing lately, I was expecting you to call sometime or another."

"Okay," I say as I collapse on my bed, my dark hair streaming out around my head, "first of all, my name isn't Spring, Kris-Ass. Second, hey!"

"Just stating facts," she says defensively, as if that justifies her words. "Anyway, I need an outfit, too. Wanna just go shopping?"

I make a doubtful face at my wall.

"Don't look at me like that!" She accuses. "Shopping is fun!"

I groan dramatically. "Fine. But you're coming over after to finish my Grey's Anatomy marathon on Netflix."

"I'm sorry, where's the downside in this? I'll pick you up in ten." She hangs up, and I twist my hair into a loose side braid. As she promised, the doorbell rings ten minutes later. I pull on my Vans and grab my purse. Before leaving, I give my eyelashes a quick swipe of mascara and reapply my lipstick.

"I got it!" I call to my mom as I push in front of her and open the door, revealing Kris. "Bye, Mom!"

"Bye, Mrs. Sterling!" Kris says.

"Summer!"

"Yeah, Mom?"

She looks at me expectantly. "Curfew?"

I sigh. "12."

She nods with a small smile. "Have fun." She closes the door.

"So," Kris says as we get into her red Hyundai Elantra, "should we start at J. Crew or Forever 21?"

"I don't care. But I actually need two outfits." She starts the car and looks at me questioningly. "I want to impress my newbie. The lunch is tomorrow." I'm on the welcome committee at our school. Every year, we get paired with a new student, meet him/her for lunch the day of orientation, go with him/her to orientation, give him/her a tour of Westview, then be his/her guide and friend for the rest of school.

"Ah, right."

We jam out to the radio, then pull into the mall. We walk in, and begin looking around. Kris makes a noise of excitment, then drags me across the first floor. "Victoria's Secret is having sale!" She struts in, and I tell her I'll wait in the enterence. I test a new scent that's on display, then a few others. I'm examining the bottle of Midnight Passion body spray when something catches my eye. Well, someone.

No, I think. Not him. It can't be him.

It's not. Just a random Hollister model. I knock the paranoia out of my head, telling myself that he was long gone, and probably in jail by now or something.