Finding Your Person

Chapter 1

"Magnolia Adaline Schmidt, get down here!  You are going to be late for school!" my mom called from downstairs, as I stumbled around trying to put an outfit together.
"I know, I'll be down in a second!" I shouted back, knowing I was nowhere near ready, standing in my bra and underwear. Sitting in the utter chaos of my room, I couldn't believe I let it get this messy. I always felt like I had my life together when my room was clean; clearly this was an exact presentation of how my mental state is in complete shambles currently. I promised myself that tomorrow morning I would clean my room. Of course I've been making this promise to myself for a little over a month now, but I digress.
I continued to sort through my clothes, trying to piece together something that would look right with this pink, long-sleeve blouse. It was pretty, but plain, in all honesty. It had a v-neck that didn't go too low, and long sleeves that about halfway down my arms started to flare out. It was a very loose-fitting shirt that hung lower in the back, just covering my butt.
After hopelessly scuffling through every item of clothing in my room, it seemed bottoms just weren't in my future. I decided throwing on a dress would be less painful. When in doubt, I always threw on a dress or romper, rather than trying to piece together something that involved more than one article of clothing. Some call it lazy, I like to think of it as being efficient and innovative.
I quickly grabbed my long, yellow, wrap maxi dress. The sleeves were short and fluttery. The dress had an adjustable tie on the outside that could give anyone the illusion of an hourglass figure. I threw on a pair of brown sandals that had a single wide ankle strap. I looked in the mirror one last time, shrugged my shoulders and then made my way to my bedroom door.
After almost tripping on half of my closet that had been scattered around my room, I was able to get out of there without spraining either of my ankles, luckily. Good thing, too, because I had a pretty important soccer game today, and I couldn't afford to be hurt.
Walking into the kitchen, I heard some sort of chatter. It turned out to be my older brother, Brady, who was talking with our dad about some type of sporting event.  My family had such an intense love for soccer, and Brady and my dad were also insane fans when it came to football.
"Good morning, sweetheart," my dad said, giving me a soft smile.
I returned the warm greeting. "Morning, Dad."
Brady looked at me with a smirk. "Well if it isn't Miss Sleeping Beauty. Aren't we running just a tad bit late today?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, well I have a pretty big test today, and I was up late last night studying."
"Poor you, having to study for a test. I can't imagine any other student having to study for a test and play a sport. It's as if you're a student and also an athlete. They should make a name up for you, like student athlete. A little elementary, but I think it'll catch on," Brady said with a smug look.
I glared at him looking at my nonexistent watch. "That much sarcasm and it's not even 8:00 yet? I think this could be a new record. Maybe you should start writing some of these lines down and selling them."
Brady's eyebrow rose as he smirked. "You think that highly of my humor?"
"No, it's tragic really, but I'm sure some comedian can use your dreadful jokes as a set-up, to which they can then punchline the crap out of it. Or they can even turn your ghastly jokes into a game where they take the worst jokes known to mankind and transform them into somewhat tolerable ones, that might even end up getting a few laughs. The judges can score the jokes from Brady to 10, Brady obviously being the lowest score. They can call it something like 'There's Only Up From Here.' The name might be a little too long, but I think it'll catch on," I said, feeling pretty satisfied that I could even get that many words out of my mouth this early.
"Don't take your negative attitude and spew it all over my humor. It's not my fault I rarely had to study," he said, chuckling.
"Yes, my apologies, it's not like we can all get along with just our looks and athletic abilities to get us through school." A devilish grin started to appear on my face.
Brady's eyebrow rose. "Yeah, must be a shame having to walk around looking like that. Don't blame yourself. I doubt Mom and Dad meant to give you all the bad genes, but please tell me, how does it feel to be the less attractive, least intelligent, and all around unsatisfactory offspring of Mom and Dad's?" My dad smacked Brady in the back of his head as he got up from the kitchen table, on the way over to the coffee pot. I know Brady really didn't mean anything that he had said, and neither did I. It was just our demented way of showing that we loved each other, I think.
"Are you really grading me like a standardized test right now? Well, for your information, I wouldn't know what looking like unsatisfactory felt like.  Have you tried asking yourself that question or have you walked by a mirror recently?"
He started to laugh sarcastically. "Oh, good one. I guess I also got the witty gene."
I raised my eyebrow challenging him, "The only wit you have is the dimwitted kind."
He shook his head then started to laugh, picking up his fork he began to eat again.
It's not even like I could have argued against the whole gene thing and say we looked alike, because we really didn't. If it wasn't for our dark blue eyes that were pretty much identical and our voices that had been indistinguishable up until Brady had hit puberty, you really wouldn't think we were related.
I had straight, long blonde hair. I was also on the paler side with some freckles right under my dark blue, almost-grey eyes. My smile wasn't as nice as Brady's. There was this one tooth that, even after braces, always bothered me. My voice had always been a little deep. I was a standard 5'5" and was built thicker. I wasn't obese, by any means, I didn't have the option to be. I was constantly playing sports and having to stay in shape for the ongoing seasons of soccer I had played all of my life. I just wasn't built like any supermodel or hollywood actress. In fact, a lot of my body weight had been muscle from playing sports all my life, but there was no six-pack here, believe me. Unless the six-pack was hiding under a layer of fat. Even though Brady joked about looks, that's all it was, it was just a joke. Brady hated the way I spoke about myself. I wasn't always negative, but I did need to work on my self-esteem.
Brady, on the other hand, had all the self-esteem in the world, and if he ever did have difficulty, it never showed. He could, honestly, probably qualify for some type of modeling or acting career. He had dark brown hair, cut short on the sides and a little left a bit longer on the top, just enough so you could see that if he grew it out it wouldn't be perfectly straight. He had a nice looking smile that I truly envied. He was six foot three and being the All-American he was, he was pretty built. And not like my kind of built with some muscle and some fat. He was all muscle. He also was lucky in terms of his complexion. It's not like he was super tan or anything, but at least he was a shade darker than translucent. Okay, okay; I'm not that white.
I'm not going to say I'm ugly, because I'm not at all. I just truly didn't get the looks in the family, in my opinion. Not saying I think my older brother is attractive because gross, but I was constantly reminded just how "hot" he apparently was, thanks to all of my friends.
Brady really did have a lot going for him. It wasn't even like he was a dumb jock that had the looks but no brain, he actually did really well in school. I always joked that the reason teachers would give him good grades was because he was one of the school's star athletes, but that wasn't the case. He had always done really well in school, and some subjects really did come naturally to him. I know he also worked really hard to maintain such high grades in all of his classes.
My favorite thing about my older brother was how humble and modest he was, even though he didn't act like it when he joked around with me. He excelled in everything he did but never would brag or even bring it up to anyone. I don't think anyone that had been in his grade in high school knew that he was top ten in their class, until they announced the top ten students during an assembly.
He was funny and well-liked by everyone, the type of person that everyone wanted to know. He had the best friends group, and to be honest, I was always pretty envious of how close he and his friends were. Although he put up a front to a lot of people that he was a typical boy who didn't care about anything, he was a really kind, genuine person. No matter what was going on in his life, he had always looked out for me. Like I said before, my brother and I had been closer than most.
"Mas, can you get me a glass of water?" Brady called over to me from where he had been sitting at the dining room table, awakening me from my thoughts. Mas was my nickname that Brady had given to me practicality at birth. Besides him, there were only a select few close people that had called me that; everyone else had called me Mae. M.A.S. are my initials standing for Magnolia Adeline Schmidt, and he pronounced Mas like 'race' with a 'm'. He started calling me that because our mom loved labeling things, and all of my toys when we were little use to have my initials on them. When Brady was learning how to read, he started calling me Mas and no one corrected him, so eventually it stuck. My mom had thought it was endearing, because he would always find my toys labeled 'MAS' and give them to me. The name never bothered me.  If anything, it made me feel somewhat safe and relaxed. Probably because everyone who was really close and cared for me usually called me that.
I started to pour his glass of water when it dawned on me that I had no idea why Brady was even home. I made my way over to him, watching him shovel scrambled eggs down his throat. He hadn't been home since he had left for his sophomore year of college sometime during the summer. He had to leave for school earlier than most college students because of football's preseason. I don't know why I had only realized just now that I hadn't seen my older brother in over three months, especially because I missed him so much.
Like I said before, we had a relationship closer than most brothers and sisters. Since we were little, my mom always forced him to invite me to hangout with him and his friends, and I guess at one point it just became a habit for him to invite me places.
I sat the glass of water right next to him and then threw my arms around him. "What's that for?" he said, reaching for the glass of water.
"Just cause I'm only now realizing I haven't seen you in so long," I said with a genuine smile starting to appear on my face.
"Well, thanks, but I'm trying to eat, so leave," he said jokingly.
"I was trying to be nice, but I guess that's over. Why are you home again? Shouldn't you be at college 'studying' or trying to trick some desperate girl into sleeping with you?"
"Excuse me? I raised a better son than that," my mom called out as she made an entrance into the kitchen.
"Thanks, Mommy," Brady spoke softly, acting all innocent with a big cheesy smile.
"It was more for me than for you. I'd like to think I raised a better, more intelligent, and kind child than that. Which reminds me, we are all going to church on Sunday," she remarked. Sunday was my favorite day. We would start the morning off with going to church as a family, then out to breakfast after. Once we got home, Brady, Aiden, and I would go outside and throw a football around, usually with some of Brady's friends that had slept over the night before. My mom would be inside cooking dinner and my dad would be watching whatever sporting event was on. I missed having Brady home on Sundays, but once football season was over, I knew he would start coming home more. Brady played football at North Carolina State University, which was almost a two hour drive to where we lived in Wilmington.
"One good kid out of three isn't bad, Mom. At least you got it right with me," my little brother Aiden spoke up, finally making an appearance.
"Yes, you're right, Aiden. Third time's the charm."
"Oh please, we know Mas's the favorite," Brady spat out.
"Maybe Dad's, but she sure isn't mine," my mom teased, rebutting Brady's comment.
"Thanks, Mom, I can really feel the love radiating in this room," I said as seriously as I could while trying to hold back a smile, but it didn't work when I heard my dad start to chuckle in the other room.
"Oh stop, you know I'm only joking, Mas," my mom exclaimed with a friendly smile.
"Mom, I would have considered it a joke if I hadn't known that Aiden was your favorite," I said, pointing a finger to my little brother.
"Come on now, you know I love you all equally," my mom assured us.
"Yeah, yeah. All parents say that, but, Mom, you can be honest with them. It's time you stop denying it. I am your favorite," Aiden declared jumping up sitting on the countertop. We all immediately started to laugh. My little brother was just one of those people that could light up a room with just his presence alone. He could put a smile on anyone's face. He had crazily curly, light brown hair with just a hint of freckles on the top of his cheeks. Although he looked nothing like Brady or me, he had those same dark blue, almost-grey eyes. And his voice sounded like mine. It was clear that he didn't hit puberty yet, but once he did I knew his voice would sound like Brady's. He had a couple years to go though; he was only in sixth grade. So for now, he was still my little, annoying, cute dork of a brother.
"Alright, you, get your butt off my countertop and go put on some shoes. I need to get you to school, and I can not be late for work again today," my mom commanded, walking out of the room to follow Aiden.
"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Now we know where Mas gets her punctuality from," Brady shouted to my mom who had just walked out of the room.
"Again, why are you home?" I groaned.
"If you must know, I'm actually only here to watch my little sis kick butt at her semi-final playoff game."
"You really came home for me?" I asked him, a genuine smile was starting to appear on my face.
"No, actually for the homecoming game tonight," he responded quickly.
"Wow, to think you actually cared about me," I scowled.
He laughed, "Relax, I would have come to your game regardless. I know how important this game is for you."
I sighed heavily. "Well thanks, at least someone will be there to support me." I began turning my back to start to walk away.
Brady looked up at me from his food, catching the tension in my voice. Raising his eyebrow, "Our whole family will be there, what are you talking about?"
"Garrett won't," I specified.
Garrett was my boyfriend. My first boyfriend, and hopefully my only one. I know that's such a hopeless-romantic thing to say, but I was without a doubt the most extreme crazed hopeless-romantic there ever was. I really did hope he was the one, though, truly.
I mean, we grew up together and had been in the same friends group since third grade. Isn't that how most love stories go? Boy and girl are friends for forever, one of them starts to develop feelings for the other, but hides it or tries to deny it. Then finally, after years of hiding it, one of them expresses their undying love for the other. And that had happened around sophomore year when Garrett finally confessed to me how he felt. Which I couldn't help but think was ironic since he used to tell me about all the girls he had crushes on, or ask for advice when he had girlfriend trouble. Which is why at first I had said no. He asked again six months later, and the answer was still no. Actually he had asked me quite a few times before I finally said yes. When I did say yes, it was pretty shocking to most of my girlfriends. Even my brother and his friends were shocked, because up until Garrett, I had never even kissed anyone.
I didn't have many girlfriends though; most of my friends had been guys. That wasn't because I liked being around guys or wanted their attention. I, in all honesty, just felt more comfortable being around them than girls. I grew up with two brothers and all my older brother's best friends. I pretty much just thought of myself as one of them, and I think they all thought of me that way too. My mom even said when I was a little girl, I'd dress up like Brady.  It's kind of embarrassing but still amusing to think about.
All the girls I had become friends with over the years were my teammates from soccer. Don't get me wrong though, I did appreciate the girls that I had become close with; they were practically my sisters. Playing with the same girls for over ten years, you couldn't help but become close. We were there for each other on and off the field. I just wish the person that was there for me right now was Garrett.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself." Brady interrupted my train of thought. I knew he was right, too. It's not like Garrett wouldn't be there if he didn't have to get ready for his football game later tonight, but regardless, a part of me felt like if he really wanted to be there for my game, he would find a way. My game was at four and his game didn't start until seven.
I made my way back over to Brady and sat alongside of him. "I'm not feeling sorry for myself, but it's like you said, this is a really big game. I just wish he was going to be there, that's all."
He gave me a sympathetic smile and put his arm around me, pulling me into his chest. "Stop worrying, Mas. You stress yourself out too much. You're going to do amazing today regardless if Garrett's there or not. And besides, you'll have Mom, Dad, Aiden, me, and even Liam's coming."
Liam Hendrix was Brady's other half. They were the inseparable best friends that you'd see in movies. In fact, I was always pretty jealous of how amazing their friendship was, and kind of envious at the fact that I didn't have a girl best friend like Brady had Liam. I even got pretty close to Liam before he went off to college. After constantly being around him all my life and Brady always inviting me places, it was bound for Liam and I to become friends at some point. He was really easy to talk too. It didn't matter what it was about either.
It also had turned out Liam knew a lot about me, not just because he was always at my house, but because Brady and Liam didn't keep secrets from each other. They told each other everything! That meant whatever secrets I told Brady, he told Liam. I didn't mind though, Brady trusted Liam which meant I did too. Liam was always kind to me whenever Brady would tell him something too. He never held anything over my head or acted like he knew me or my problems. The only time he would bring up anything that Brady had told him was if I was ever upset about anything. He would always go out of his way to check on me.
Liam never treated me like I was just Brady's little sister, like a couple of Brady's other friends did. He treated me like I was one of his friends, and I loved that. Besides being very kind, Liam was practically the most hilarious person I had ever met. What was nice about him though, was that he always laughed at all my jokes as well. There wasn't a moment when we weren't in the same room together that we weren't laughing or singing and acting crazy together. I could really be myself around him. I didn't have to act or play pretend around him. Since he and Brady had been inseparable ever since birth, I was always around Liam. Which meant I grew up with him, and he had seen me at my best and my absolute worst. I'm talking my most repulsive, annoying, obnoxious moments in my life, Liam probably was there to see it.
Our friendship really started when I was a freshmen in high school. I think that's because I started to become more mature. Unfortunately, during this time was also when a lot of Brady's other friends started to see me as not just Brady's little sister, but a naive freshman girl. Some would try to flirt with me, but Brady was always quick to shut that down. On occasion I would flirt back, but that was just to annoy Brady. After Brady made it clear to his friends that if anyone of them hurt me they'd have him to answer to, none of them bothered to show the least bit of interest in me. Liam would always try to make light of the situation, because of how serious Brady took guys flirting with me. As a joke one day, Liam started to flirt with me in front of Brady, just to see how he would react. It then shortly became a habit for Liam and me to flirt with each other just to tease Brady. In the beginning Brady would get mad, but that shortly turned into him becoming  annoyed. Eventually, Brady just accepted it, and would act annoyed once in awhile, but I could tell he really didn't care all that much. I think it didn't bother him, because he knew that Liam and I would never be together in any romantic way, but that didn't stop Liam and me from acting like we were in love with each other.
"Awe! The love of my life is coming home to watch me play? How sweet," I said biting my lip to hold back from giggling.
He scoffed, removing his arm from around my shoulder, pushing me away. "Ha, ha. This is why we can't have nice things." He got up and walked away.
"Listen, if I have to hear one more of my friends tell me just how much they wish they were with you, I will purposely break my own ankle so I don't have to see them at practice," I warned him.
His eyes flashing back at me, a smirk appeared on his face. "You see, though, that's realistic, girls showing their undeniable want for me. You and Liam, though. That's just creepy and NEVER going to happen. Besides he actually has a girlfriend now."
"I don't care.  I've been dating someone for over two years now, Brady. You know we only flirt like that to get under your skin. I don't actually like him. And he definitely doesn't see me as anything more than a little sister," I assured him.
His eyebrows started to raise as if he had known something I didn't, then shook his head and started to laugh. "Alright, you probably should head out. It's your senior year, you don't want to be held back due to too many tardinesses."
I shrugged. "I wonder what the record is for the most amount of latenesses."
Brady laughed.  "We could probably just ask mom how many she had?"
My mom shouted as we heard the front door open. "I was late one time to work, because I woke up Friday and thought it was Saturday, due to Aiden's baseball game being moved from Friday to Thursday night. Will you ever let me live it down?"
"No!" we yelled back in unison, immediately laughing after. 
"How is Aiden even your favorite, Mom? He made you late," Brady asked.
"Yeah, maybe if you chose a better candidate to be your favorite child that wouldn't have happened," I added on.
"Don't speak poorly of my favorite child again!" I could hear my mom giggle to herself.
"I love you both! I'll see you both at the game. Good luck today, Mas!" my mom added.
We both shouted our 'I love you's' back, and I followed mine with a 'thank you'. I turned to Brady to give him another hug. It was nice getting to see my big brother.
"I missed you," I said in a hushed voice, tightly squeezing him.
"I missed you too, Mas," he replied with an even tighter squeeze. "Now you better get going if you ever want to see a diploma." We both shared a smile.
"Alright, well, I love you," I said.
"I love you too."
Leaving for school today there was so much on my mind. I had a huge test, an even bigger soccer game, and I couldn't help but think about Garrett not coming to my game. On the brighter side, I couldn't wait to see Liam. I couldn't believe he had a girlfriend though. Not that I cared, but he never really had any serious relationships before. He had dated a girl his freshman year of high school, and that ended a week before he started his junior year. After that he didn't have another girlfriend. Not that I cared that he had a girlfriend, but I couldn't help but wonder what she was like, or who she was.