Drifting

1 -

The door to number twenty-six Morgan Avenue is painted a startling shade of crimson. It stands out from the other houses, the doors of which are mostly black. Of course, not much stands out when it's raining as much as it is now. Everything looks grey-blue, and obviously soaking wet.

Over the sound of the rain, voices can be heard from behind the red door. A girl's impatient tones, a boy shouting back to her. Unintelligible conversation, and then a short burst of laughter.

That's when the door opens. The girl whose voice was heard previously looks at the dark sky in disgust, wrinkling her nose as she does up the buttons on her beige-coloured trench coat and produces a black umbrella patterned with strawberries, which she opens up as she steps outside. She's careful not to mess up the carefully-styled dark brown ringlets that frame her small face.

She's followed out by a boy who looks almost exactly like her. Same grey-green eyes, same facial structure. The only difference between them is that his hair is shorter and straight, and he doesn't wear a coat.

"Ben, you never listen to me, do you?" The girl sighs, shaking her head at him, but a small smile plays on her lips.

"Nope," her twin replies chirpily.

"Aren't you freezing?" she asks. "What did you even do with your coat?"

"Not really." He shrugs. "And I told you this yesterday. I left it in the drama studio and when I went back for it, it wasn't there. It's probably in lost property, I'll look for it when we get to school." She raises her eyebrows at him, like she's heard the story before. He refuses to meet her gaze.

A navy jacket, practically torn to shreds, tied to a lamp-post like a flag on a pole.

She sighs again, and pulls her phone out of her pocket to check the time. "Damn it, Ben! I can't be late again! Quick, we'll have to run."

"Alright, Lyssie, calm down," he laughs. "We've got time." "No, we haven't!" she protests. "It's almost eight thirty!"

"Oh, er... Run then?" Ben suggests with a smirk. Before she can reply, he's taken off down the street.

He's faster than she is, especially in the rain, when he can splash through puddles without a care in the world while she skirts them cautiously in her heels. Luckily for them, Upper Brackenwood Secondary is only a few streets away.

There, it's just like any other Tuesday morning. The gang that hang around the school gates are there, as usual, and one of them shouts over to Alyssa.  

"Alright, babe?" 

Lyss just laughs, tossing her dark curls. She won't be anyone's 'babe', and the boys in purple know that as well as everyone else does. The one who shouted to her wolf-whistles, and the others join in.

Except one, who's distracted by an auburn-haired girl running to him and kissing him full on the lips. Lyss tries not to look at their blatant PDA, it sickens her slightly this early in the morning. 

"What a slag," remarks a voice. Alyssa turns to her left, surprised. She hadn't realised anyone was there, but smiles when she sees who it is.  

"Cheryl! Isn't she just, though. Who is she?"

"Some Year Nine. Annabella or something."

"Daniella," a passing student remarks. Cheryl looks coldly at him.  

"Nobody asked you," she says acidly. "Keep your nose out of other people's conversations, 'kay?" 

The boy hurries past. Alyssa has to laugh at his expression of mixed confusion and terror.  

"So yeah, anyway," Cheryl continues. "What's-her-face, Daniella. Whore central."

"Who's whore central?" chirps a new voice.  

"Hey, Leah." Alyssa smiles.  

"Daniella, year 9 slut," Cheryl explains.

While the girls continue talking, Ben slips away. His twin, in his eyes, is incredible, but the constant high-pitched chatter and giggling that seems to follow her around everywhere can get annoying sometimes.

Now is one of those times.