Hybrid: Supernatural Bad Boys I

Chapter 1- Everything is changing

Nevaeh

His beautiful muscular body is straining. However, my eyes are focused on the magnificent wings standing proudly behind his back. “They're beautiful. Can I touch them?” I whisper softly. Even though I can't see his face, I know that he is beautiful. He smiles, running his hand caressingly over my arm and whispers sensuously. “Nevaeh, you are my Sodales semper, my love, always.” He says in a deep, gravelly voice. I move forward, my hand extended. I want to touch him so badly that my body is shaking with excitement. As he moves closer, I can feel his breath on my face. His wings move as if seeking my hand. My hand strokes the feathers. They are soft and warm to the touch. I run my hand caressingly down his wing, enjoying the soft downy feel of his feathers. His wing flutters and his breathing quickens with desire. Biting my lip, I shyly gaze at him through the curtain of my dark hair. His hand moves down my shoulder as I move mine over his wings. Eyes focused on his mouth, lick my lips, and prepare to kiss him. We are so close we are practically breathing the same air. His mouth moves towards mine slowly. It's almost hypnotic. Closing my eyes, I lean close to kiss him.

Bang, bang into the room…”

My body jolts at the sound of my cell phone going off. I open my eyes. I'm back in my room. He's gone. Feeling a sense of loss, I sit upon my bed and listen for any sounds within the house. I can hear the honk of Travis's car horn in the distance. Then my cell begins to ring. “Bang, bang into the room…” The sound of my Adriana Grande ringtone continues interrupting my usual morning routine. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I reach for my phone and hit the answer button. It's my boyfriend, Travis. I guess he got tired of honking the horn.

“What the hell, babe? Where are you? I've been sitting out here for ten minutes?” I shake my head, clear my mind, and grasp the covers as I roll out of bed. “Sorry, Trav, my alarm didn't go off. Just go ahead without me. I'll take my car, okay?”

I listen as he takes an impatient breath before he replies. “Fine, but you have to get a new alarm. It sucks to wait here every time your alarm messes up.”

 I look at the clock on my phone again, run my fingers through the tangled mess that is my hair, and reply. “Yeah, sure. Bye,” I hang up quickly.

              To be honest, I'm getting tired of Travis's demands. We've been together for nearly a year, and I'm just not feeling the attraction any longer. At this point, every demand from him is annoying, and every moment we spend together feels like an obligation.

              After I've brushed my teeth and thick hair, I put on my cheerleading uniform and head down the stairs. First, let me introduce myself. My name is Nevaeh Rivera; I'm a senior at Arcata High. I am the cheerleading team captain, dance, choir, president of the student council, and Social Committee. Let's just say that I'm a very busy girl. I live in a small town called Arcata, located in California. My dream is to be a writer, so I'm super smart. My greatest assets are my long brown hair and deep golden eyes. I've been told that my hair has a natural wave to it that girls go to the salon for. You know, the soft romantic curl? I'm told that I look like my mom, but I really don't see it. I'm slim, about five feet five, with a toned body. Being a cheerleader has helped keep me in tip-top shape. My friend Jezelle says that my olive skin and dark coloring make me look exotic.

              Leaning close to a nearby mirror, I roll my lip gloss over my full cherry lips and line my eyes. My last boyfriend, Shane, used to say that I didn't need to line my eyes because they were large and soulful. He was so sweet. Unfortunately, he moved to Florida, and a long-distance relationship was not in our plans.

              As I make my way down the stairs, I hear my mom's car drive away from the house. I roll my eyes at her hasty retreat. God forbid she say goodbye. The kitchen is empty, and there's no breakfast ready.

               “At least there's no one fighting,” I mumble to myself. My parents have never been the warmest, but lately, it's been a constant deluge of arguing back and forth. My mom harping on something, and my dad screaming back. It's been a nightmare for me because I know what the next step is. I have plenty of friends with divorced parents. It just saddens me that my parents have no regard for my feelings.

My phone rings again. “Bang, bang into the room…” Ugh, I need to change my ringtone. Jez and I used the ringtone as a joke, but it's getting old already. Hitching up my bag, I take an apple from the kitchen table and make my way out the door. My messenger bag rests heavily against my side.

I scowl when my phone rings again. Seriously, I'm almost out the door. People can be so impatient.  As I make my way out the door, I grab my car keys and reach for my phone. It's Jezelle. She's probably waiting impatiently by the school's front door. “Hey, Jezelle─”

Her voice breaks through my speech. “Don't hey Jezelle me! Where the hell are you? I've been waiting…” She continues to rant as I get into my jeep and turn it on. “Sorry, Jez, give me a few minutes. I'm on my way.” I hang up quickly, not letting her finish her rant. Sometimes that's the way to deal with her. The girl will run through her data, berating me for being late.

Settling my arm on the steering wheel of my Jeep Wrangler, I hit the road and make my way to school. I love my jeep. It used to belong to my Uncle Mannie. He was a war photographer. He died last year while he was on assignment in Africa. He was in a hot zone and caught a bullet in the heart. It was a very sad moment for us. Uncle Mannie knew I loved the old jeep, so he left it for me in his will. I was his favorite niece. I always shared my writing with him. He loved everything I wrote. I remember he told me that he was proud of me and that I would be a great writer someday. I miss him so much.

It doesn't take long for me to pull the jeep into the school's parking lot. The lot is quiet and still at this time of day. School doesn't start for at least another hour, so most kids are still home. However, I'm late for cheerleading practice, and by the look on Jezelle's face, it isn't good.

Right now, she's standing near the entrance doorway, looking annoyed. Jezelle is pretty with brown and blond highlights. She has beautiful, crystal blue eyes and lush lips. Her five-foot frame vibrates with energy as she paces in place. Not wasting another moment, I grab my things and rush over to her. Her face breaks into a smile as she pulls me close and gives me an air kiss. “You're late, Nev. Are you ready?”

I nod my head, giving her a sardonic smile. “Sorry about that. But I'm here now, so let's go.”

As we walk toward the gym, our cheer skirts make swishing sounds with every shift of our bodies. We usually wear workout clothes for practices, but we have school pictures today. Jez pushes the doors open and walks ahead. The rest of the squad is doing stretches, practicing a few moves, or talking.

Settling my bag down, I clap my hands loudly and gain their attention. “Okay, ladies, today is class picture day, and tomorrow is a home game, so we need to be ready. Remember that regionals are coming up. And I don't know about you guys, but I want to win.”

I move forward and stand next to Jez. Leigh Andrews steps up, an ugly smirk on her face and cattily mutters. “Wow, Nevaeh, are you going to make it a ritual to be late? I mean, you're the captain of the squad. If you can't handle the pressure, let us know so we can get a new captain.”          I roll my eyes at her comment. “No pressure Leigh, just a bad alarm. So, you can halt your search. Now, are we going to talk or practice?” I reply calmly as I place my hands on my waist, give Leigh a measuring look, and point to the floor. Without another word, Leigh rolls her eyes and falls back in line.

Leigh is the kind of girl that can be envious of every girl in the room. It makes no sense because she's pretty, with blond hair and blue eyes. Too bad that she's evil to the core. Most of the girls in the squad have complained about Leigh being catty and vicious. The problem is that Leigh's a good dancer, and we don't have the time to find a replacement for her. I've known Jez, Leigh, and a few other girls from the squad since middle school. Believe it or not, Leigh was a sweet, shy girl. Then, in our sophomore year, she came to school with a short skirt and a bitchy attitude. She's very well known as the boyfriend stealer, so the girls are leery of her.

Cheer practice was as good as usual. I had to keep a few girls from ripping Leigh's hair out, but we were ready. Jezelle and I head towards our lockers, ready to start the school day. “Girl, something has got to be done about Leigh. I swear Brit was about to choke her when she made a comment about Brit's ass looking like cottage cheese.”

Jez unlocks her locker and laughs as my locker opens with a hard thud. Her locker has been next to mine since freshman year. Inside our locker doors, there are pictures of the team, Jez and I, and a few cheer posters. I take a deep breath collecting my literature and history book from the locker with a snicker. “What am I supposed to do, Jez? Regionals are in a few weeks, and we don't have the time to get someone new. I'll talk to her about her attitude.”

Jez looks at me, puckers her lips, and takes a deep breath. “All right, Nev, you're the captain. But I have to tell you if Leigh says one more thing, I'm going to let the girls take care of her. Capice?” Jez lifts her hand fingers up, deepening her voice. I laugh incredulously at Jez's imitation of an Italian Don.

Before I can respond, the hallway goes quiet. It's like when you hear animals in the forest, and they sense a predator, and everything grows eerily silent. Well, that's how the hallway felt at that moment. There are usually kids running around, screaming, yelling, and laughing, but now, you can hear a pin drop. Suddenly, the murmuring of excited whispers reaches my ear. I hear words like “Juvenile… Boys Home…Killed someone.”

Jez and I look around. Suddenly the crowd parts. Kids cower and whisper as a group of boys ascend from the end of the hallway. There are four boys. I can see the girls gaping in shock. The boys are beautiful. All tall with a variety of hair colors. The first boy has scruffy brown hair with golden highlights, face stubble, and golden eyes. He snickers cockily at the crowd as he makes his way down the hallway. The second one has brown hair and blue eyes. His hair is military cut, and his face is clear of stubble. He smiles arrogantly and winks at a few girls. You can hear their sighs as he bestows his smile upon them. The third one has wavy blond hair and brown eyes. He seems shy and quiet, keeping his eyes on the ground, only looking up to follow a path.

The one that instantly holds my attention is the last boy. He's wearing a black Henley with black jeans and steel-toed boots. His hair is pitch black with a fauxhawk, and his eyes are just as black. Unlike the rest of the boys, he is vacantly staring ahead of the path, never meeting anyone's eyes. I can see a tick of annoyance working in his jaw. The boys continue walking down the hallway until they disappear into the office.

              As if nothing had happened, everyone continues to talk and prepare for the day. I raise my eyebrow at Jez questioningly. “What the hell was that about?”

              Jez looks at me as if I'm a complete idiot and quirks a brow. Her mouth flattens into an incredulous line as she waves her hand in the direction the boys disappeared into. “Seriously?”

              I slap my right hand over my hip nodding my head in questions. “Yeah, I'm serious. WTF Jez. What's going on? Why are you looking at me as if I'm buying retail? What the hell is this about?”

              Jez gives me a sideways smile and shakes her head. “Girl… how in the hell have you not heard of the Cross brothers? The whole school has been talking about them.”

              I shrug my shoulders in puzzlement. “Jez, you know how busy I am with Travis, cheerleading, student council, and everything else. The school year has just started, and I barely have time to breathe, let alone listen to gossip. Now, dish.”

              Shaking her head, Jez steers me toward our history class. Mr. Andrews is sitting at his desk, his voice sounding harsh as he points his fingers in emphasis towards Patrick, the class clown. I wonder what he did this time.

Jez continues to whisper softly. “I have to say it's funny that you don't have a clue about this considering that the topic at hand is really close to your home. Anyway, you know that abandoned house across the street from your house?”

I nod my head thinking about the creepy house across the street. “Yeah, the old Killington house. What about it?” Jez and I take a seat in our chairs. At the beginning of the year, we both decided to sit near the door. It makes it easier to sneak in or out of class if we need to. I sit in front of Jez, Keely Michaels used to sit next to me, but she moved a few months ago, so the desk remains empty until we can find an adequate replacement.

Jez lays her books on the table and reaches into her purse to check her cell phone. She texts a few things ignoring my impatient glare. I wave my hand impatiently. “Well, according to Pam, whose mom works in the Department of Children Service, the city council approved the proposal for the Killington house to become a home for boys─ Juvenile boys. Pam mentioned that some of the boys were there because they did some really bad things. Truthfully, I don't think they did the things she says they did. I mean, who would put hardened criminals in a home? I would imagine they'd be in Jail instead.”

I nod my head feeling a shiver creep down my back. “Well, whatever they did. I have no interest in getting involved with criminals. Frankly, I don't know why they let them into the school…”

My words die out as Jez's eyes widen. Her eyes are not on me, though. Instead, they focus on a point behind my shoulder. Sensing a presence behind me, I turn slowly and see the dark boy from earlier standing near the door, which happens to be next to my desk. His eyes lock on mine, and his nostrils flare with anger. Shit! Me and my big mouth.

His eyes travel down my body with contempt. Almost like he's measuring me up for a coffin. Not wanting him to see me sweat, I take a breath, cross my legs, and give him a sly smile. He scowls as he shifts in place. I can tell that he wants to blast me for my comment, and I deserve it. But I'm not the kind of girl who is easily cowed.

Keeping my eyes steadily on him, I run my hand through my hair and raise my eyebrow in question. “Can I help you with something?” I ask as I cattily twirl my pen through my fingers.

His gorgeous face hardens further, and his lips move as if he's about to respond. But before he does, Mr. Andrews interrupts. “You must be Mikhail Cross?” Mr. Andrews pats him strongly on the back, causing him to stumble slightly forward. It looks funny considering that Mikhail is over six feet and maybe 190 pounds. However, Mr. Andrews was a linebacker for some professional football team, which means he outweighs Mikhail by at least a hundred pounds.

Unlike Mikhail, though, Mr. Andrews is rounder and looks like Santa. Mikhail, on the other hand, looks like a fallen angel. Mikhail, what an odd name. I guess that if anyone can move the gorgeous criminal, it would be Mr. Andrews. Turning to Ms. Andrews, Mikhail takes a deep breath and stiffens. Mr. Andrews smiles kindly and holds his hand out in greeting.

One thing about Mr. Andrews is that he may be a giant, but he's a gentle one. Mikhail ignores the hand looking around the room. “Where can I sit, sir?”

Mr. Andrews's eyes land on the desk next to me. Dread rushes through me at the thought of what he is going to suggest. In my head, I'm screaming, Nooooo! In slow motion. However, Mr. Andrews ignores my panicked look when he points to the desk beside me. Giving the desk a sour glare, Mikhail gives me a heated look and rests his bag on the chair.

My mouth opens in astonishment. Without a thought, I raise my hand to stop Mr. Andrews. “MR. ANDREWS, YOU CAN'T SIT HIM THERE!” I exclaim vehemently.

Mr. Andrews turns towards me and quirks an astonished brow. I cringe back when he places his hand on his hip and calmly asks. “And why shouldn't he sit here, Ms. Rivera?”

I open my mouth, but I have no response. “I…Uh…well…” I mumble incoherently.

Mr. Andrews smirks as he waits patiently for my reply. I lick my lips, looking at Mikhail and give him a sour look before I slump back in resignation. “No reason, Mr. Andrews.” I grit through my teeth.

Giving me a knowing smirk, Mikhail scrapes the chair loudly from the table, takes a seat, and gazes off into the distance. I turn towards Jez, who has her mouth gaping open like a fish as she looks back and forth between Mikhail and me.

Seeing no further conflict, Mr. Andrews moves to the front of the class and begins talking. Annoyed, I face forward and pretend that Mikhail is not sitting next to me. It was the longest lecture that I've ever attended. Mr. Andrews talked on and on about King Leonidas and the 300. Normally, I would be interested, except for the dark specter sitting to my left. I've never been so uncomfortable in my life. Unable to help myself, I shift in my seat uncomfortably and continue looking at the clock. It doesn't help that my cheerleading outfit is snug and stifling. The top sticks to my body like a second skin, and my skirt chafe my thighs.

Needless to say, when the bell rings, I grab my things and rush out of class. Jez calling my name, but I ignore her as I make my way to the girl's bathroom. “Nev… wait up!” I hear her call from behind me. Feigning a calm exterior, I walk over to the mirror and adjust my hair and lip gloss. A second later, the door opens and slams closed behind me.

Jez crosses her arms across her chest and gives me a speculative look. “What the hell was that about, Nevaeh? You totally threw a bitch fit over the new boy. Holy shit, that was crazy. I thought you guys were going to throw down or something.”

I try to play it off as if it was nothing, but my heart is still beating a mile a minute. “I just didn't want anyone sitting in Keely's spot. No big deal.”

Jez gives me the, you're not fooling me look, but I ignore her and continue to adjust my cheer skirt. “We better go take our class pics. We have Lit third period, and Mrs. Christiansen will be pissed if we're late.”

The door opens as Jezelle, and I are about to walk out. Two freshman girls rush in, whispering. “Oh my gosh, did you see Mikhail Cross? He is so hot. I think he brushed up against me in the hallway.”

The one talking has wild curly hair and braces. I roll my eyes when the other one moves closer to her friend and whispers excitedly. “I know, and that Rowan is so hot. Did you see him walk into...?”

Not wanting to hear another word, I step out of the bathroom and make my way to the gym. Jez follows behind me as we make our way down the stairs. “You have got to be kidding me. Now they have groupies. Ugh.”

Jez laughs at my tone and steps beside me. “Can you really blame them? I mean, those brothers are hot.” She emphasizes her comments by making a sizzling sound and running her index finger over her lips.

Amazed at my friend's bad taste, I turn quickly. Unfortunately, I misjudge the next step, and my body starts to fall forward. Jez reaches for me, but I'm already falling. I close my eyes, ready to break my neck. However, before I begin my descent, I fall into a set of muscled arms and a solid chest. My arms grip the tall, muscled form tightly as I try to straighten my stance. Looking up, I open my mouth to thank my savior when my eyes focus on the face in front of me. He's even more beautiful up close. But he doesn't seem happy that he saved me. I lick my lips and swallow hard when I notice that his eyes are following the movement of my tongue. His nostrils flare, and my body heats. I don't know how, but suddenly we're closer. My mouth inches closer to his at their own volition, and our mouths are about to meet when a voice interrupts.

“Oh crap, Nev, are you okay?” Jez's voice penetrates my haze. Horrified, I push away from his arms and right myself. I know it's rude, but I'm shaken. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I move back down a step and mutter.

“Thanks,” Mikhail raises a sardonic brow and folds his hands across his chest with a snicker. “Anytime, princess.” He sarcastically replies.

I stop at the bottom of the stairs and give him a smug glare. Ignoring my angry glare, he turns around and walks away. A hand grasps my elbow. “Are you okay, Nev? For a second there, I thought you were going to be a goner.”

 Nodding my head, I continue walking towards the gym. “I’m fine, Jez. The jackass caught me.” Jez clicks her tongue, looking at me, worried. “Come on, Nev, cut the guy some slack. He literally just saved your life.”

I shake my head, walking towards the photographer. “He just rubs me the wrong way. Let’s…let’s just forget about it, okay. It’s picture time.” Jez gives me a dubious stare but doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes a deep breath and follows behind me.

Third-period Lit is a great class. Mrs. Christiansen always finds new and inventive ways to make literature interesting. I remember one time we pretended to be Shakespearean actors. We had to make the story more modern and then act them out. The boys portrayed a fight scene between Romeo and Juliet. It was funny because they kept stabbing each other with fake paper swords and spoke in old English.

Jez and I walk in excited, but the excitement dies quickly. Unfortunately, Mrs. Christiansen also tends to suddenly change things around. The tables that were put into single rows before are now paired. Mrs. Christiansen walks in excitedly. “Hello, everyone.

As you can see, the room has been rearranged. We are about to set off on a journey into the world of famous lovers. As such, everyone will be paired with someone of the opposite gender. Meaning Mr. Austin…” She says, looking at Kyle Austin, who happens to be gay and very effeminate. “…that we will be paired off as boy and girl. If there is a problem, you will have to solve it with your partner because barring death, you will stay with who you will be paired with. Now then…”

Mrs. Christiansen stops talking and looks up with a distracted expression when Mikhail and one of the other boys from this morning stride confidently into the room. The blond one. “Welcome, Mikhail and Rowan. You are just in time.” The boys don’t respond as they silently move forward and join the group surrounding Mrs. Christiansen.

I watch from the sidelines as the girls eye the brothers and send them seductive looks. I roll my eyes and listen as Mrs. Christiansen continues with her plans. “As I was saying. For the next few weeks, you will sit with the partner the name selector chooses for you. There will be no changing partners once they are chosen. All selections are final. You are all nearly adults here. Therefore, you need to learn to work with people of many attitudes. All of you need to learn to work as a team. So, if you want to change partners, the answer is no. Once your partner is chosen, you and your partner will work on the project assigned to you. Now, let’s make a line. The first person will click on the selector button, and the name of your partner will show.” Mrs. Christiansen walks over to her computer and presses a button. Janie Hayes is first in line. She presses the button, and Kyle Austin’s name comes up. Janie and Kyle smile. I’m sure they’re relieved to be paired with each other since they’re good friends.

As the line dwindles down. I worry because my name hasn’t been chosen. Jez’s name was picked by Rowan Cross, which leaves Jason Devlin in the running. Jason’s a hot senior. He and my boyfriend Travis are good friends. Travis and I don’t have any classes together this year. At first, when we began dating, it upset me. But now that I’m ready to break up, I’m glad that I don’t have to see him in class every day. I just don’t feel anything for him anymore.

Unfortunately, Callie, Mikhail, and Jason Devlin are the only ones left to call on besides me. I can’t believe this! Heart beating, I observe as Jason presses the button and the wheel spins. Resisting the urge to cross my fingers, I nearly choke when Callie’s name is selected. Callie gives me a venomous look and bumps my shoulder as she walks towards Jason, which leaves Mikhail and me as partners now. Giving me a venomous look, Mikhail woodenly walks to one of the empty tables and takes a seat. I guess he’s just as unhappy to be my partner as I am. Stunned, I walk towards the empty seat next to him and sit down. Not a word is said between us. However, anyone paying attention will notice our tense expressions.

Mrs. Christiansen seems delighted as she turns off the classroom lights and proceeds with her presentation. “I am so excited that we have our partners. Okay…so… for our literature project this quarter, we will discuss the literary works of Romantic stories. You will find a folder inside your desks with a file on your famous couple and a novel. I want you to look at the information and choose what you want to do. You will have until the end of the period to review the information and discuss it with your partner. Then, tomorrow, you will give me a composite of what project you chose. You may begin!” She waves her hands up in the air in encouragement.  Mikhail and I gaze at each other, our faces set in an obstinate pout. I observe as he opens his desk, and I open mine. Inside is a manila folder with the novel. Opening the cover, I read the title and grimace. The book that was given to us is “Cleopatra and Marc Anthony.” WTF!

Mikhail lets out a disgusted snort and tosses the book onto the table, inciting my ire. “What’s wrong? You don’t like to read?” I ask cattily. I don’t know what it is about him that rubs me the wrong way. Mikhail looks at me and crosses his arms over his chest with a sneer. As if of their own volition, my eyes are drawn to his muscled arms. I might not like him, but he’s seriously gorgeous, which is so unfair.

“Just another boring book to me.” He replies drily. My heart speeds up at his words. Does this mean that he’s not going to help me? Oh, this is not good. I need to fix things between us before I fail Lit. Wanting to smooth things out between us, I lean forward in my chair and say. “Look, Mikhail, I really want to do well in this class, so can you please take this seriously?”

Mikhail leans forward, lays his hand on the book, then glances over at me. “Well, princess, this looks like it’s your problem, not mine.” I look around the room and watch as the partners animatedly discuss their projects. In fact, the only partners not talking about their projects are Mikhail and me. Gripping Mikhail by his shoulder, I grit out angrily. But Mikhail is unfazed by my anger. Regarding my hand on his shoulder, he looks back at me and quirks a contemptuous brow. From the expression on his face, I can tell that my anger is leaving him unmoved.

Seeing that my anger is making things worse, I breathe and give him a pleading smile. My future depends on his agreement. If I fail Lit, I will lose my chance at a writing scholarship to Cal State. And my dreams of being a writer will be shattered forever. Biting my lips, I move closer and whisper. “Please, Mikhail, this is important.”

For a moment, his eyes soften, and his eyes hone in on my lips. He licks his lips as he considers my plea. Then he snaps out of it. His face closes off, and his body stiffens. “Sorry, princess, this is not my thing.” He replies icily before he tosses the book across my desk. The ending bell rings, startling me from my thoughts. However, I don’t give up. Instead, I follow Mikhail out the door, grasp his forearm, and pull him back to face me. “Wait… Mikhail!” He stops and gazes at me with an annoyed frown. “Look, princess, what does it matter? I’m just a criminal who shouldn’t be allowed to attend here. Right?” 

My body tenses as he echoes my cruel words from earlier. “Listen, Mikhail, what I said was stupid. I’m sorry, okay. Please, help me.”                                       Mikhail tilts his head with a serious expression. I’m sure that he’s gauging my honesty, and I’m hoping he can see my sincerity. Because I really do regret calling him a criminal. It was uncalled for and unfair, considering that I don’t know him that well. “I’ll think about it.” He mutters before he walks away and leaves me standing there, feeling unsure.

I almost jump out of my skin when Jez walks up to me, loops her arm through mine, and leads me down the hallway. “Hey, are you okay?”

 I nod my head. “Yeah, I’m fine. I have a student council meeting right now. Can we talk later?”

Before I can move, Jez steps in front of me and mutters with concern. “You’re not eating lunch again? Seriously girl, you’re spreading yourself too thin these days. What am I going to tell Travis?”

Shaking my head, I make my way to the library. “Sorry, Jez, I just have a lot to do. We’ll do lunch tomorrow. I promise.” Jez gives me one last serious look, then shrugs and walks away. She knows there’s no point in arguing with me when I’ve made up my mind to do something.

Fortunately, the rest of the day is less eventful. Unfortunately, I seem to have most of my classes with Mikhail and Rowan. During physics and computer class, Mikhail and Rowan sit in the back and mess around. I try to ignore them, but it’s hard to do when I hear them muttering and gesturing in my direction.

Once the class is over, I make my way to the front door and sigh with frustration when I see that Travis is waiting for me. I don’t want to deal with him right now.

Giving me an assured smile, he runs his hands through his cropped hair and waves his hand. His letterman jacket fits his beefy shoulders perfectly. Travis is cute in a boy next door kind of way. His body is stocky and muscular; he is six feet tall with blue eyes and golden hair. All-in-all, he’s the perfect package. Any girl at school would kill to be with him. Too bad that I’m just not interested anymore.

He leans his shoulder on the doorframe when I approach and exhales. “Hey Babe, I just wanted to let you know that I have a late practice all week. The coach has been riding us hard since we lost the home game last week, which means that I won’t be able to take you home.” He looks at me repentantly and wraps his arm around my waist with a sorry smile. “Can you forgive me?”

Giving him a reassuring nod, I take a step back and loosen his hold on my waist. “It’s okay. I’ve been so busy lately that maybe it’s easier if I just drive myself to school. Go to practice, and we’ll talk later.” His face brightens with relief at my words. It’s almost sad because I know he can’t see that my attitude is more about indifference than about me letting him off the hook.

Leaning down, he kisses my forehead and whispers. “Okay, babe, I’ll call you later.” Before he walks away, he flicks my hair playfully. I wave him away as I stride to my car. I really need to break it off with Travis. Maybe I’ll call Jez and discuss it tonight. Hopefully, she’ll be able to take a break.

Last year Jez’s father’s company went under. He was an accountant for some firm until the company went bankrupt. Unfortunately, they couldn’t afford to pay him a severance package, so he was left jobless and penniless. He didn’t let it bring him down, though. Instead, he made the decision to open a gastropub. Thankfully, the restaurant was very successful. The downside, though, is that Jez works there every day after school. The only time off she gets is when we travel for cheer or if there’s an important school activity that she can’t miss. Unlike before, we no longer have time to hang out. I won’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt or that I’m lonely. But I understand that she needs to help her family. I guess that’s what family does.

Well, every family but mine. Or at least I’d like to think that other families aren’t as messed up as mine. When I was a little girl, I used to see my house as a sanctuary. My dad used to swing me onto his shoulders, and my mom would have dinner ready with a smile. I used to sit in a tree swing my dad built for me and pretend that I was a princess. My mom and I would sit in it all the time and read fairy tales. Passing by the swing, I run my finger across the ivory-colored backrest and reminisce. My father built the swing after I told him that I wanted one.  I was eight years old at the time. I remember my mom read me this book about a lonely girl who lived in a forest. The little girl used to sit on a swing and wish for love and a family. One day as she was sitting in the swing, her true love found her. I told my mom that I wanted a swing too so that my true love could find me. That was the last time I remember my mom and dad being happy. The swing is the only happy memory I have left. Sometimes, when I feel lonely, I sit in the swing and dream of a better life.

It’s funny how things change. Now, I hate coming home. I don’t know when it began. But suddenly, home-cooked meals were a grudge match. My mom would make something, and my dad would criticize it. At some point, all home-cooked meals became nonexistent. Dad would work late, and mom would travel for work. Sometimes I feel like they have forgotten that I exist completely. They pretty much ghosted me. My dad rarely speaks to me, and my mom is too busy to say a word.

The driveway is quiet and solemn when I get home, which tells me that my parents aren’t inside. Like the home itself, I feel empty and lonely. “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” I yell out sarcastically as soon as I walk through the doorway. Of course, I know that no one is home; I guess it lessens the impact when I say it. 

Stifling my melancholy, I dump my bag near the door and kick it across the floor. My cell phone goes buzzes. I reach into my bag and look at the screen. It’s my mom. “Mom─” Before I begin, she interrupts. “Nevaeh, I’m not going to be home tonight. I must fly to Montreal on business for a week. I left some money on the counter, buy some pizza for dinner. Hopefully, your father will be home tonight. Gotta run…” I open my mouth to respond, but the sound of the line going dead is my only response.

Tightening my hand on my phone, I turn it off and walk towards the kitchen counter. “Sounds like pizza is on the menu tonight.”