When the Storm Hits - Chase Stein

One

A loud banging on the door wakes me from my dreamless slumber, the familiar yelling from my mother to get up prompts me to lay in bed and wish the day was over already. It's been two years today since Amy's death, the passing of the glue that held us together. Us being my ex-friends. Just thinking about it makes me upset, every small mistake or insignificant annoyance that my ex-friends have made in the past sixteen years bubbling to the surface. Serving as prime spite material for the day.

Everybody else hates one another, wouldn't want to feel left out.

Eventually, my mother makes her second round to my room, her voice two octaves higher as she yells at me to get up. I take that as a sign she won't be as understanding as I would hope about today. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I roll off the bed dragging my blankets down with me. Crawling over to my closet I wear whatever is closet to me and whatever smells the best; which doesn't really narrow it down.

After brushing my teeth and attempting to brush out the knots in my hair, I sit down across from my mother at the dining table.

My mother at least attempts to smile at me, but it looks more like a grimace.

"Did you even try?" Nevermind it was definitely a grimace.

Sighing, I adjust the fork in my hand, holding it properly. (It's become a force of habit, courtesy of my mother.) The breakfast in front of me, eggs benedict with a side of asparagus quiche.

"May we have pancakes tomorrow?" I ask politely.

My mother takes a sip of her champagne, shaking her head, "You will eat whatever is prepared for you,"

"But I haven't had—"

My mother's glare stops any further argument from me.

"Yes, mother," I relent, biting into the eggs.

Any one-sided conversation is relinquished after that.

I wish my mother goodbye when I'm finished eating.

I catch another glance of myself in the mirror when I'm leaving and I can't help but wince. There's a red mark on my face from sleeping on top of my phone, there's a gnarly stain on my hoodie that I won't be able to conceal, and although I thought I had combed my hair out pretty well, it does not look like any better. As usual, thin strands of hair stick up on end as if someone has just rubbed a balloon on my head.

Reaching inside my backpack, I pull out my worn baseball cap and tug it onto my head. It doesn't do much to help my appearance.

Eh, it's not like I have anyone to impress.

Arriving at school, I don't have to try at all to avoid any pity glances. I experienced them when the whole ordeal first went down, but they vanished within a week without a trace of remorse since. Most of the kids who attend my school are assholes, there's no doubt about it. But the king of them has to be Chase Stein. My former best friend and crush.

The thought brings me back. Back to when things were simpler and when nobody hated one another. But following Amy's death, everyone split up, blamed each other. I lost everyone I cared about. I remember I tried at first to bring us all back together, it didn't work. Then I tried to move on, that didn't work either.

I'm not great at making friends, the only reason that I had the friends I had was because our parents work together. So it just happened by itself. I tried making new friends, but nothing seemed to stick, or at least I didn't. Everyone pretty much avoids me. I honestly don't know why. I guess it's because I'm clumsy? I get in trouble a lot because of that, the school thinks I do it on purpose.

It's not like I meant to cause a giant power-outage that cost the school thousands. And it wasn't my fault that the shock pen I gave Molly gave her a little more than a shock, it was the stupid company's fault! The pen was defective, but nooo, I obviously used my amazing inventor skills to rewire the pen and almost burn Molly's finger to a crisp. And please! I'm barely able to remember my own phone password, there is no way I'd be able to remember every teacher's passcode in order to hack into their computers and delete their coursework.

I take a seat in the back of my homeroom class when I arrive. Steering clear of Gert as she harasses everyone who enters the room with a flyer for her new club. I'd join, but I have a feeling that I wouldn't be welcome.

Chase, however, doesn't seem to care, he snatches the flyer from Gert and crumples it up without even sparing it a glance. He walks away laughing, his new friends join in, I shake my head in disappointment. Not that Chase would care.

I get lost in my thoughts halfway through the announcements. They drift to a magical land far away from here, where everyone's happy. But when the bell rings and I begin packing up for Geometry, I don't need to remind myself that it's just a daydream.

The loud conversation going on between Alex and Chase is hard to miss, the insults spewing from Chase's mouth are relentless. And by the time that Gert and Karolina join in, I'm out of the room and speed-walking down the hallway. Anything to avoid being dragged into the conversation. If you can even call it that.

Trudging out of my last class, I wander the corridors. I'm not in any rush to get home, the hallways have cleared everyone else has scattered and gone home for the day. My feet each land in front of each other, in uncoordinated movements, I run my finger along the crevices in the wall. The little person I've conjured up in my mind making synchronized jumps from poster to poster. My finger approaches the light switch for the hallway, the character prepares to jump for it. She stops at the edge, bending down and getting into a running stance, she sprints forward, her toes leaving the tip of the poster. She raises her arms bracing herself for impact—

Pain shoots up my arm, and waterfalls down through my body. My hand whips away from the light switch, there's a small twinge of electricity that escapes it and a weak crackle before the lights above me die out. Leaving me shrouded in darkness, "Shit!" I yell out, the combined surprise of being shocked and fear of being expelled contributing to it.

With one last glance at the light switch, I turn on my heel and run.