End of the Rainbow

The End of School

{A/N (Authors Note): Hey guys, Thanks for taking a chance on my story! I'm not the best writer, but I hope you can find some enjoyment in this. You're probably gonna find many grammatical and spelling errors but eh- It's fine.
Y/N means your name
H/C means hair color
E/C means eye color
S/C means skin color
Since this is a story, I can't get all the details about you, specifically, correct. Please forgive me if I make any rude assumptions, haha!

This is somewhat based off of my own experiences- Maybe it'll be relatable? I dunno. Enjoy!

(BTW; You've gotta wait for the gay shit, cause this is just the beginning of the story) }

'He's good for me.' I try to convince myself. 'He is!' 'If you tell yourself a lie enough, will you start to believe it?' says the other have of my brain, the more logical one.
I tighten my left hand around the strap that holds up my backpack. I let the other one hang over my bag in a subtle attempt to look cool. I repeat those four words over and over in my head again. My friends implore that this is the best thing that's ever happened to me.
"Ugh!" My best friend, Sara would groan. "You don't understand how lucky you are! Lucas, He likes you!"
She'd grab me by the shoulders and shake me, like that would nail the point into my brain.
"Too bad I don't like him," Was my response for months. He just wasn't my type. I didn't like boys.. Who were as cocky as him.
"Not your type?" Sara would as rhetorically. "Honestly, Y/N. It doesn't seem like you have a type." I did have a type, but I just couldn't see what the other girls saw in Luke.
His brown hair was curly and cut so that it was merely a puff on the top of his head. A few strands always hung lower than the rest and I couldn't help but wonder if it was intentional. His blue eyes were pale, dull. The freckles that frolicked along his cheekbones and perfectly pointed nose didn't hide the ghost that hid behind those orbs. I wondered what he was hiding, but at the same time I didn't care.
Today he was waiting at my locker. Two girls I had never seen in my life stared up at him with such admiration it was sickening. A blonde girl with her hair up in a bun nodded after every word he spoke, a brown haired girl seemed too distracted by his face to listen.
"Hey, babe." His scratchy voice choked out. I scrunched my nose at the pet name. He had never asked me out, never even told me he liked me. What gave him the right to call me babe?
"Hi." I brush past the two girls, and to them it's a signal that their fun is up. The girls giggle flatly and the blonde one wiggles her fingers for an awkward attempt at a wave. He nods nonchalantly, oh-so-cool.
"So, I was thinking about the dance tonight," His voice trails off in my mind. I'm turning the dial on my locker while he blabbers on... and on about some dance, and how we just have to get matching outfits. 23-9-3 My locker opens with ease.
I think about dancing for a split second. My hands on his shoulders, his on my waist. I nearly vomit inside of my locker.
"I'll be at your front door at five. You'll be waiting," He raises his hand to make some kind of motion that didn't even make sense in this context.
Okay, That was it. "What are you talking about?" He stops whatever he was saying mid-sentence and lowers his finger. His mouth is open slightly; I can see the gears turning in this peanut brain. He's about to speak when I take off my backpack and continue.
"You never even asked me to the dance! and you're making plans, the day its happening." I don't feel the need to make eye contact with him as I pull a few stray papers out of my backpack and throw them aimlessly into my locker. I felt almost detached from the situation. Or more like detached from him. I was fuming at his arrogance at the same time.
"Obviously you'd want to go with me, who wouldn't? Anyway, Afterwords you can come back to my place," He changes the topic back to the dance as if it was as was as easy as flipping a light switch. "I was thinking-"
"A hard task to achieve for you, I can tell." He still leans against the vacant locker next to mine, but out of the corner of my eye I see his posture stiffen.
"Don't assume things, Lucas. I'm not going to the dance with you, I'm not going with anyone." I pull a few folders out of my locker, not really checking which ones they were. I wanted to have "the last laugh", I guess you could say. I grip the metal clasp and swing the dull red locker close it with a THUD. Lucas doesn't react- much. His jaw clenches and his nostrils flare with anger. He almost looks like a statue, so perfectly still. His eyes follow my every movement without really watching.
I marched- there isn't really a better word for the stomp-run I did- past Lucas without a second thought. 'God, boys suck.' I thought. As I made my way across the school to Spanish (room 2087A) I wondered if I had overreacted. 'No,' I decided.
Though I was known to over react, I hadn't here. 'He never once officially asked me to be his girlfriend, and anyway, I would've said no! For him to assume such things.. UGH.'
Before I knew it I was at the door of my Spanish classroom, the digital clock told me there was a minute left to spare. Most of the class was already seated, or at least what was left of it. Most kids skipped on the last day of school, what did we really learn, anyway?
"Y/N! Y/N!" Zeke runs over to me and pushes his hands on my desk. "What did you do?" He suddenly asks.
"Good morning to you, too." I remark sarcastically.
Zeke's small wire frame glasses were pushed up to the top of the bridge of his stubby nose. His ginger hair rain widely past his ears and down to his shoulders. He was the embodiment of the nerd stereotype.
"No time for jokes." 'Actually, we have four minutes until Mr. Shramka arrives.' I remember. He was always 'fashionably' late. "Haven't you heard? The entire school knows about your break up with Lucas!"
I try not to scrunch my nose, either at the mention of Lucas or the overwhelming scent of Axe Body Spray, I wasn't sure.
"Okay?" My eyes narrow and my eyebrows furrow. I press my lips into a thin, annoyed smile. I hope Zeke gets the hint to drop the topic, but he's clueless.
"Why on god's green planet would you break up with him? You could've been on the top of the food chain, and been with a super hot dude?"
I scoff at his expressions. I've always guessed Zeke was from a very, very white household by the way he speaks. He might be cringe worthy, but he was still a good friend.
"We were never dating." I begin. "He never asked me out, not even over text! I told him off for assuming I would go to the dance with him, that was it. We are the same as we've always been." I quickly realized I was ranting and got quiet.
"Girl, I get it." I wonder if he really does, or if he was just done listening to me. Either way, I was over the entire situation.
Mr. Shramka walked in mere moments later and began class with an "¡Hola!" As he always did. Spanish went by in a blur, as did the rest of my classes. Nothing of substance was absorbed or spoken for the rest of the school day.
   My eyes dart through the parking lot for any sign of the yellow, rusting vehicle I always rode home in. I would rather walk, If I'm honest. The bus was always filled to the brim with left over garbage and the stench of B.O.
I hardly notice a few ugly glances from other students as I climb onto the school bus. I give a quick nod to the school bus driver and he does the same to me, without any emotion displayed on his wise face.
Before my butt even touches the rough surface of the school bus seats, I hear Sara shouting. "Y/NNN!" She roars. She throws herself onto the seat next to me, her backpack shaking against the sudden movement.
"Why would you break up with Lukas? Don't you
know how hard I worked to get him to ask you to the dance? It was going to be perfect, a masterpiece from Sara the matchmaker! The hottest boy in school with the hottest girl in school. How could you ruin this for us?" There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in her voice, even though virtually everything she said was wrong.
He had never asked me to the dance. He told me we were going to the dance. No way I was the hottest girl in the school, no way he was the hottest dude in the school. But, what really set me off was the "us" in her final statement.
I look at Sara dead in the eyes for a moment. Her golden brown eyes glimmered with genuine annoyance, which made this all the more hilarious. As the bus lurched forward I lurched with it, but in laughter.
I started cackling like a hyena, and snorting as to not suffocate. I wish I could say it felt good to giggle like that, but this was more of a "you're insane" laugh than a "that's funny" laugh. When I took my final snort I looked out the window and saw the familiar green-rimmed gas station I had learned to love. Apparently I had been laughing almost the entire way home.
"Yeah, okay." Sara had crossed her arms over her (no offense) nearly flat chest, also unintentionally tucking one of her sky blue locks underneath her left arm.
"This could seriously effect my reputation!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air. "I was planning on making a business out of the whole match making thing." She mumbled, only half joking. I managed a chuckle at her sorry attempt of a joke as the driver began to shout, we had arrived at my abode.
I stood up slowly, making sure I had all of my belongings. I checked my seat for any tiny missing pieces of my life, to no avail.
"I guess I'll see ya in a week or two." I sighed. School was almost a safe haven from the absolute boredom I called my life. Without it, what was there to do?
   Sara, without warning hopped up onto her feet. She threw her arms around my neck and pulled me close to her. My arms stayed at my sides for a split second.
   Quickly I realized that I was being embraced, and it was quite awkward just standing there, so I returned it.
Her body was warm, I wondered if it was from the heat of the sun or her just being a warm person. It was comforting, I almost wished it didn't have to end.
"Thanks for making this school year the best." She sniffled. Was she about to cry? Suddenly I felt remorse, like I should apologize for something but I didn't know what. "Awh," Oops. I didn't mean to say that out loud. "I promise I'll see you soon, alright?"
"Hurry it up back there!" The grumpy wrinkled man yelled from the front of the bus. He had completely ruined the moment and probably didn't care. Still, I understood him, I'd hate that job too.
I gave Sara a toothy smile which she returned. Her smile seemed to lighten up the dim bus. I quickly turned by back and moved down the isle quickly, still being careful not to bump anyone's heads. I felt a few pairs of eyes follow me. Either from wasting time, or from the events of earlier today. I didn't believe everyone knew about Luke. Could they?
With a hop and about three steps I was standing in my driveway. No cars, yet. Thank god. My little brother, Ethan, had a track meet after school, he was in ninth grade; and he was the favorite child I could tell. I didn't get the point of running. Where was there to go? Our family had fast metabolism anyway, so there's no need to lose weight.
I've always known my parents wanted a little boy, for him to be a star athlete. Because girls can't be athletic, right? I wanted to prove them wrong, but still I had no interest in doing so.
I heard the hunk of metal with wheels behind me drive off with a huff of the engine. I took a deep breath of the fresh pine smelling air walked up to my door step. I sling my backpack off of my shoulder and held it by the handle, reaching into the water-bottle-holder for my lanyard with the key on it.
A quiet *jingle jangle* lets me know I've got the right item. I hold the lanyard by the back of the key, letting the ribbon part dangle in the slight breeze. I turn my hand and the door opens a crack.
I know better than to push too hard on the door. There were probably a pile of Ethan's shoes stacked up behind the door. The little twat had more shoes than I did, and wasn't I supposed to be the girl?
This time though, the door opened easily. 'Ah, Dad must've made Ethan do his one chore per-month.' Really, for a 15 year old they liked to baby him.
Anyway, I kicked off my chunky Fila shoes; not bothering to untie them. They landed somewhere by the door, eh, I'd fix em later. The little house was always oddly dim, even after I turned on the lights. I had given the idea of buying some brighter light bulbs to my father, but no. Of course not, Ethan wasn't the one who came up with the idea,
I walk past the shiny new kitchen my mother had remodeled last summer. She had promised it would take only a month but certain things are still unfinished, like a cabinet to keep the plates. Mhmm, we keep the plates in my room now.
My parents room was the second biggest in the house. The curtains were red which made the room have a maroon hue. The bed sheets were probably from 16 years ago, when I was born. They had a few holes and things. My family really hated to buy material objects (unless they were for Ethan).
The elderly floor board growled at the weight of my body; which alerted Mop that an intruder was near. Throughout the entire house a high pitched "YIP, YIP, YIP," echoed.
I crouched down to the metal cage my little pupper was bounding around in. Mop was a shitzu mix, he was a tiny black and white three year old dog. My Mom and Dad had enough to deal with without Mop, but they thought he'd help my anxiety. And he did.
He ceased his yipping when he saw his favorite person in the entire world, and began crying to be let free from his tiny prison. I smiled as I unhooked the latch, careful not to knock it off its fragile hinges again. Mop bolted through the open door, and I followed him at top speed, the last thing I needed today was to wipe up dog pee.
I opened the back door and left him to go do his thing. Mop was a smart dog, he'd be fine as long as no large birds nearby were hungry.
I wandered around the house without purpose, dragging my hands along random counter tops, until I felt something odd. I lifted my hand up and looked at the piece of paper I had uncovered (though it wasn't really hidden).
Y/N,
Please get your suitcase and have enough clothes for a few months. We will be home soon.

I recognized the messy scrawl right away as my fathers. But why would he ask me to pack? For what? My mind went to the worst possible scenarios. Were my parents getting divorced? Was my father taking custody of me, and my mother of my brother? Or was is merely a family vacation? But, we hadn't gone on one of those in... Well,ever.
As a wave of possibilities flooded my mind while I let Mop back inside. He ran straight into my room, where he knew I would always be. I followed him without telling my legs to move.
I knew my parents would tell me the news when they got home, so I had no reason to be worried. I decided I'd freak out later. I tugged my ugly neon green suitcase from underneath my bed, back into the open world. Mop jumped at it as if it were a new chew toy, which sent dust flying everywhere.
The next hour was spent by throwing shirts and shorts into my bag. I packed every pair of underwear, every bra , and pad I had. I also decided to pack my makeup bag;which only consisted of mascara, blush and foundation. Nothing was in any order but it didn't bother me. I didn't know where we were going, but after all, it was summer, so this should be appropriate attire.  (If we were going to Alaska though, I was screwed.)
I was finished, finally. I looked at the pile of clothing I considered "done" as I heard the front door screeched open. "Honey?" My mothers high pitched squeak rang out. I furrowed my freshly plucked eyebrows for no one to see. There was a tinge of fear in her voice, though she hid it well.
"Y/N?" Now it was my fathers turn to call. He could've been a narrator, his voice was so deep.
I slid down the hallway on my blue-socked-heals to the kitchen. Mop trailed behind me, his tail wagging happily. "Hey, Mom, Dad," I ignored my brother who had found himself on the yellowing sofa in the living room.
My moms hair was up in a bun. She hadn't gotten in dyed in a couple months and they grey of her roots was showing. Her face still looked young besides the worry lines of her forehead, but I guess that's what being a mom does to you. My dad, on the other hand, looked five years older than he really was. Wrinkles formed at every crease of his face, and his smile lines were only deepening as time wore on. He was beginning to bald which I liked to pick on him for (though he didn't find it amusing.)
"Do you have everything packed?" My dad wasn't much for small talk. He got straight to the point.
"Mhmm. But what for?"
"Er... Well," My mother spoke up. I thought maybe they had rehearsed this scene. "Your brother" —She motioned her hand towards my brothers thin frame.— "Is practicing running over the summer. He's trying to be a professional, you know?" She paused.
"Well, we want you todo something productive. There's this really nice summer camp about three hours away. 'S called 'Upham Woods' or something. I've heard a lot of kids from your school are going there and we think it'll be a great thing for you to get out of the house."
This didn't come as a shock. It was most likely my fathers idea. He wanted to spend all the time focusing on Ethan's sporting, hardly any on me. It was fine though, I could just cancel. "Oh, I'd rather not,"
My mom opened her mouth to speak, but my fathers voice came out.
"It's not up for discussion. There's a bus coming to pick you up tomorrow, 5PM sharp."
I looked from each of my parents' faces to my brother. He had a smirk stretched across his bony face.
"Have fun!" He chimed, followed by a snicker.
I stuck my tongue out at him like a six year old.
"Be nice to your brother."
My mother and fathers voices were polar opposite but yet I couldn't tell who had spoken. I didn't look at either of them, and I silently promised myself I wouldn't until summer was over. I was pissed, understandably. 'What if I had made my own plans?' I thought to myself. 'What about Sara? I had promised her...' I made a quiet *hmph* sound as I plopped down onto my bed.
I didn't come out of my room for the rest of the night, and I munched on an old Poptart for dinner. It was probably about 5pm when I laid my head onto my pillow. 'A pillow I wont see again for three months.'
I allowed my lids to close eventually and watched as the world went dark. I felt my body begin to shut down, tried and thoughtful. I fell into an unrestful sleep before you could even say the word "summer".

{A/N: Okay! Well, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. Again, I am aware that there are many grammatical and spelling errors. I'm writing this completely by myself and have no one to proof read.
I hope this wasn't too long! There wasn't really much substance here... Hopefully there will be more interesting things soon.
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Words; 3,456 }