Lucas Mabry wants it all.
He wants a girl, team captain, and the popularity that comes with it.
Unfortunately, the new girl wants nothing to do with him and he turns to the only person he thinks will help.
Nikki Young.
His worst enemy.
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Lucas
It's a hot morning. I pick up my phone and thank the heavens it's a Saturday.
My mind physically feels heavy. Like it's full of thoughts and random things but really, I haven't thought about anything since yesterday.
I waited for my mom and dad to come home but they didn't make it. I tried calling my mom to ask about what surgery she was talking about but she didn't respond. I ended up falling asleep on the couch until I awoke and went to my bedroom.
With parched lips, I drag my body out of bed and make my way out the room. A soft song is playing downstairs. I've never heard the maid play anything before. Maybe she thinks no one is home.
Once at the bottom of the steps, my body turns rigid. My mom is cooking bacon and eggs on two separate pans. She's peacefully humming along to the soft music and swaying in her spot.
"You're here." She doesn't look at me as she grabs some things out the fridge. "Grab some plates, will you?"
I make my way past her and open the cupboard. I grab four plates and place them on the kitchen counter.
"We're eating in the dining table today."
I nod as my hands grab the plates. My feet trudge towards the dining room and place the plates on the table.
"Anything... else?" I feel awkward as I watch my mom struggles with the pan of bacon and the plate of eggs.
"Don't just stand there. Grab the eggs." She scolds. My hands reach for the plate of eggs as she motions her chin towards the condiments. "And don't forget the syrup and the butter. Your brother likes his butter."
I pause. "Logan's coming?" I wince at how rough my voice sounds.
"Mhm. He's bringing your father from the hospital."
He'll kill me. I think? It's the first time I've ever physically attacked my own father so I don't know how he'll react.
I place the plate of eggs and the rest of the food on the table.
My mom counts the items with her finger and places her other finger on her chin. "I forgot the sausage patties!" She snaps her fingers and hurries toward the kitchen.
I take a seat across from where my mom usually sits and slump on top of the seat. My feet nervously tap against the floor in anticipation for the type of punishment my way. The worst punishment I've ever gotten was fifteen belt hits to my behind. And that was for lying about doing my homework.
One can say attacking my father is a little different from lying about homework.
Ha Ha. I'm dead.
"Are you not eating?"
My body jumps. My mom is sitting across from me, pouring syrup on the pancakes on her plate. She isn't looking at me but I can tell she's tired. Her eyes are red and narrowed with sleep.
