Hey, decided to write a high school fanfic for Lorien Legacies. I only have the first chapter written so far, so please review and let me know if I should continue or not.
btw, I made number Five a girl (Riley) because I couldn't find a way to work pittacus lore's Five into the story. I hope nobody minds :)
Marina
My head snaps up at the sound of my alarm going off. Immediately, I groan and bury my face back in my pillow, too tired to even press the snooze button. I hear Ella rushing up and down the hallways, getting ready for her first day of grade eight. I don't even know how early she got up, but judging by the sounds of her quick footsteps, it's been awhile. As I hear the continued screams of my alarm, I remember that it's also my first day of school. Grade twelve. With a sigh, I roll over in my bed and squint at the ceiling, my eyes still not adjusted to the light of the morning sun streaming into the room. I follow the spinning of the fan blade with my eyes, regretting my decision to turn it on last night. It's going to be freezing when I get out from under the covers.
"Marina!" I hear Mom's voice and I cringe at how cranky she sounds, "Do us all a favour and turn that alarm off sometime this century!"
At once, I shoot up into a sitting position on my bed, Mom's harsh tone the only motivation I need to cut my sleeping time short. The sudden movement makes dark spots appear at the edges of my vision, and a dizzy feeling shoots through me. Still, I reach my arm out until I find the alarm on my bedside table, desperately feeling for the power button before her mood gets worse. I sigh in relief when I hear the high pitched siren shut off with a satisfying click.
"Sorry!" I call out. She doesn't respond, probably already gone back to sleep.
She's been like this since Dad died almost two years ago. Always cranky. She used to be so happy, always smiling no matter the situation we were in. Even when Dad was in the hospital, she had been hopeful, always staying positive for the benefit of everyone. Of course, positivity doesn't cure cancer. After his death, Ella and I grieved, mourned, did whatever people do when family members die. Mom did too, but she was never the same. She doesn't ask us about our day anymore, she doesn't even seem to care about what we do. After a while, I took over her roll, struggling between making sure she doesn't go too far off the rails, and looking out for Ella.
I shake the thoughts off and with a surge of effort, I rip the covers off me and drape my feet over the side of the bed. I yawn, then just sit there for a moment, eyes half closed and staring at the grey wall opposite to me. It's cold in the room, just like I thought it would be. After a moment, I force myself up onto my feet, quickly getting dressed, then walking towards the door. I pull it open, a little startled to see a blur of auburn hair fly by the open doorway. I'm too tired to jump though, managing only to raise my eyebrows in surprise while I lean forward and peer down the hallway, where Ella is entering the bathroom. Rolling my eyes, I slowly walk the way she went. I hope that she'll soon realize that nobody cares what you wear, or how you look. Although I can't be too critical, it took me a few years to grow out of it myself.
"Morning, El." I greet her as I come in, reaching for my hairbrush just as she drops her own down next to it.
"Yup." She replies absentmindedly.
What? Since when is 'yup' a viable response to 'good morning'? I give her a confused look and open my mouth to respond, but she's already scampering out of bathroom again. I whip my head around just in time to see her turn the corner, and I let out a huff of annoyance. She needs to calm down.
I continue to brush my hair and teeth, finding entertainment in watching Ella as she moves around in fast motion, sometimes making more short appearances in the bathroom before scurrying out again. When I'm done, I step out into the hall, getting out of the way as Mom trudges past me, looking almost zombie-like.
"Good morning." I say lightly. She only grunts in response, disappearing into the bathroom. I shake my head as I continue my journey to the stairs. Would it kill anybody in this family to give me a proper response?
When I get to the stairs I pause for a moment, briefly weighing the idea of throwing myself down them against going to school. Sighing in defeat, I grab the rail and go down the stairs the safe way. Once I'm down, I head into the kitchen and throw a piece of bread in the toaster. I open the cupboard to get a plate, but as I do, I notice the time on the stove clock. Riley said that she'd be here to pick me up at quarter to eight. Well, it's eight now so that throws our plan off a little.
I slam the cupboard door and sprint back upstairs to grab a sweater. I must have stayed in bed longer than I thought. I run past Ella on my way to my room, and she gives me a confused look, not used to seeing me rushing around in the mornings.
"Late." I explain shortly.
I disappear into my bedroom and rip a random sweater out of the closet, quickly rushing back out and flying down the stairs in record time. I grab my phone off the counter, a little shocked to see that there's no texts from Riley telling me to hurry up. Before I have a chance to think about it, my breakfast pops up from the toaster.
Deciding that I don't have time to eat it, I shove my bag over my shoulder and head for the door. "There's some toast down here for anyone who wants it!" I call up.
"Alright, thanks Marina!" Ella shouts back at me.
Satisfied that Ella's breakfast has been taken care of, I tell her to have a good day, shooting out through the door before I can hear her response. I look around, breathing a little heavy from all the rushing around, only to find that Riley isn't even here. Confused, I pull out my cell phone, checking the time again to make sure I saw right. Even through my panic, I'm proud of myself when I see that only a minute has gone by since I last checked. Although, almost immediately, the feeling is replaced with concern. Out of all the years I've known her, Riley has rarely been late for anything. I walk up to the side of the road and look both ways, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach when I don't see her vehicle. I wait for another couple of minutes but still, nothing. I start to walk back down the driveway and pull out my phone, dialling her number, and breathing out a relieved sigh when she answers on the third ring.
"Yeah, I know, I know." She says, her voice a mix of panic and irritation, "I'm like, two seconds away."
"Okay good, I was starting to think you... slept in or something." I say, deciding not to tell her that I was actually thinking the worst. Both her and Maren make fun of my worrying, but it's just the way I've been since I started looking after Ella.
"No, I was actually up earlier this morning." She reassures me, and I roll my eyes at the pride in her voice, knowing that she usually waits until the last second to get up. "Anyway, I'm here n-" she ends the call before she can finish her sentence, and I watch as her burgundy van backs into the driveway.
She stops the car and I jog the few steps it takes to get over there. I hurriedly pull on the passenger side door, but it's locked. I raise my eyebrows at Riley and she says something that looks like a curse as she reaches over from the drivers seat and pulls up the locking mechanism, successfully letting me in.
I throw my bag in the back, "Good morning." I say as I climb in the passenger seat.
"Good morning, Marina." She replies lightly, a smile replacing the worried expression on her face. That's what I like about Riley, no matter what situation she's in, she can always find a smile to put on her face. Although, this one only lasts for a second, and before I can say anything else she drives forward, the force pushing me against the seat back.
She stops at the end of the driveway and I take the opportunity to do up my seatbelt before she tells me to, she'll never drive away if someone's seatbelt isn't done up. Honestly, she's actually a very safe driver, the ride is just a little unpleasant to say the least. But we agreed that we would car pool, even if it means that the journey won't be the most comfortable. I look up the road and sigh as I notice a steady stream of cars coming from each side. Riley has noticed as well and bangs her hands on the steering wheel in annoyance.
"Come on people, give me a break." She mutters leaning forward to look both ways.
All of a sudden, her face goes calm, and I recognize the look. It's the look she gets when she's going to do something she probably shouldn't. I follow her gaze to the line of cars on the left side of the road, to see that there is a small gap between two cars, maybe big enough to get her van out. I look on the other side of the road and see the same thing. It looks like the two breaks will meet right here, but still, it hardly looks like a wide enough margin.
"Riley, no." I warn, shooting her look. She doesn't say anything, just presses her lips tighter together, a conflicted expression crossing her features as her eyes continue to dart back and forth between the two spaces.
"You won't be able to make it, there's not enough space." I try. This time she sighs, turning her head to look at me apologetically.
"Alright," she says, and for a second I think I've won, my stomach drops when she adds, "hold on."
As the two breaks meet, she slams her foot on the gas. I take her advice and grip onto the door as she jerks the steering wheel hard to the left. The force of the turn pushes me up against the window, my wide eyed expression probably hilarious to the other drivers on the road. I definitely hear the vans tires screech as Riley finally drifts us to the other lane, leaving skid marks on the pavement. One of the other cars honks their horn but other than that, we seem to be in the clear.
We're both quiet for a moment, the only thing breaking the silence is the sound of the van rolling over the pavement and my our breathing, heavy with waning panic. Finally, I turn to Riley, only to find her staring straight ahead, purposely avoiding eye contact, her eyes wide. She stays silent for a second, almost like she's afraid to say anything.
"Okay, look at this way." She finally says, "Yes, maybe it was a little dangerous, but maybe it was worth it." She nods like she's satisfied with her argument. I'm not.
"Oh yeah? Really?" I answer, my tone harsher than I meant for it to be, although, I can't find it in me to care right now, "It was worth maybe getting us killed?" I accuse her, silently taking back what I said about her being a safe driver.
At this, she rolls her eyes, now smiling a little, probably finding my panic amusing, "Really, Marina? Killed? That's a little extreme." She says arching an eyebrow, "At most we would have been injured."
"Oh wow, thanks. That just makes me feel a million times better." I reply flatly, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. She raises her eyebrows and laughs in surprised amusement at my tone.
I give her a tired look, but I'm finding it hard not to smile myself as my anger ebbs away. She's just one of those people that you can't stay mad at, her warm brown eyes always looking innocent no matter what she's done. In times like this, it's really annoying, and eventually, a reluctant smile makes its way into my face. I shake my head at her as she looks at me, still chuckling.
"You should have seen your face." She says, "It was the image pure terror." I roll my eyes but can't help laughing anyway, all of my anger now gone.
"Okay whatever." I say after minute, "We're still late, so it didn't matter anyway." I reason, nodding to the clock on the dash where it now reads, 8:06.
"Yeah, Maren's gonna be pissed." She admits, and I can see her face slowly take on the worried expression she was wearing when she picked me up, "She's already called twice." She adds with a short laugh.
"Well, school does start at 8:15." I point out, she wrinkles her nose at me and I smile. Maren's house isn't that far from mine anyway, and it's only five minutes away from the school, so that gives me a little hope that we may get there on time. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the speedometer slowly rising but I refrain from saying anything, it couldn't exactly hurt the situation.
When we get to Maren's house, she's already standing outside, her book bag slung over her shoulder. She looks annoyed and runs up to the van before we even get all the way into the driveway.
"Sorry!" Riley apologizes as soon as Maren slides the door open. Maren throws her school bag into the back seat and with a grunt, climbs in after, sliding the door shut.
"What took you so long!" She replies, not seeming to accept Riley's apology just yet.
"Steph wanted breakfast." Riley responds, pulling out of the driveway with much less trouble then she had with mine.
Stephanie is Riley's older sister and legal guardian, since their parents died when Riley was eleven. Stephanie had been eighteen and grudgingly took on the responsibility, but anyone with eyes can see that Riley does everything for the both of them, even has a part-time job at a convenience store to help pay the bills.
"What did she want that took twenty minutes?" Maren's grumbles, probably rolling her eyes.
Riley grimaces, knowing that Maren won't accept any excuse, "Boiled eggs." She replies quietly.
"Really?" Maren exclaims, "Actually, you know what? Never mind, she probably can't even boil water, I should have known that putting a couple eggs in a pot would be beyond her comprehension level." Riley just shakes her head and laughs. She doesn't like insulting her sister, but has gotten past the point of caring when Maren does it.
"Anyway, if you were going to be late you could have at least picked us up in cooler car." She continues with a huff, making her displeasure known.
"Oh yeah?" Riley challenges, raising her eyebrows at her in the mirror, "I'll have you know, that ol' Mavis here just drifted across a whole lane of traffic up by Marina's house." Yes, she named her van Mavis.
Maren's snorts, obviously not believing her, "It's true." I interject.
"Wait. Really?" Maren laughs, and Riley nods.
"Don't be too impressed. She almost killed us in the process." I say, shooting Riley a glare. She doesn't seem to mind and just shrugs.
"Meh, agree to disagree." She replies.
"Personally, I don't get what you're complaining about." Maren says as she leans forward from the back seat, "That sounds awesome."
"Right?" Riley responds, "See Mar, I was actually doing you a favour. A little healthy adrenaline rush to wake you up."
"It was terrifying." I tell Maren, ignoring Riley's statement. Riley just laughs from the drivers seat, still finding my terror amusing. All of a sudden, Maren groans.
"You know what's more terrifying? I have math first." She says and I grimace at the thought of having to sit through fifty minutes of math first thing in the morning. Riley however, looks back at Maren with a grin.
"Oh, me too!" She says a little too enthusiastically. Maren and I roll our eyes at her, both of us at a loss to why she likes math. She catches the look, but instead of being offended, she grins, waggling her eyebrows at Maren, "We can be study buddies!" She suggests with fake hopefulness.
I laugh while Maren groans, "You're retarded." She says.
"Ah, yeah I know." Riley responds, her smile turning into a frown of mock sadness. Maren and I laugh.
It might be a decent year yet.
John
"I told you we were gonna be late." I grumble to Stanley as we make our way to math. I hate math, being Kate for the class isn't going to hell matters though.
Nobody else is around as we walk down the hall at a quick pace, of course. Nobody is late for class on the first day except us. Well, us and a couple of girls coming up from the opposite direction, the two appear to be arguing about something. When I see a head of raven hair, I immediately recognize one of them as Maren Elizabeth. Almost everyone in the school knows her, being the star player of almost every sport tends to make you popular. Still, she sticks to a group of only a few friends and everyone else either lies in the mass of people desperate for her friendship, or the other half who are her enemies, there's no in-between really. I recognize the other girl as the goalie for the girls hockey team two years straight. I think her name is Riley Pierce. She doesn't really stand out next to Maren though, I guess no one does.
"C'mon man," Stanley interrupts my thoughts, "it's the first day, nobody cares if your late on the first day. We can just say we got lost or something."
I roll my eyes, turning away from the girls to give him an exasperated look, "This is our third year in this school, how could we get lost?"
He just shrugs, "I don't know, maybe we're dumb." He says.
"Well one of us is." I reply under my breath, he still hears me and laughs, not even offended.
"Dude, its senior year! You've got to relax." He says, shoving me a little. He wears such an easy grin, he's not even worried.
"Whatever." I sigh.
We all get to the door of Mr. Collins' classroom at the same time, and I gesture for Stanley to stop to let the girls in first. Riley smiles at us in thanks, but Maren just brushes past us, not even slowing down and her face much less friendly than her friend's.
"Twenty minutes to boil eggs." She mutters to Riley, looking back at her as she enters the classroom. Riley sighs, looking like a kid being lectured by a parent.
"Oh my god, can you shut up about the freaking eggs?" She whispers back, quickly following Maren into the classroom. I shoot Stanley a confused look.
He shrugs, "Chicks, man." He says smirking. I roll my eyes at him for what feels like hundredth time today, and go into the classroom.
Mr. Collins stands at his desk, giving Stanley and I a disapproving glare as he waves to two empty seats at the front of the classroom, gesturing for us to sit down. I shoot him what I hope is an apologetic look. Stanley however, just smirks as he takes his seat, laying his books down on the desk, stretching his legs out and crossing his arms to achieve the aura of smug superiority. I lay my own books down on the desk next to his and take a seat as Mr. Collins hardens his glare at Stanley. Finally, he sighs and walks over to the white board, where he has his name written across the surface. He clasps his hands in front of him and looks over the class with a smile I can tell is fake.
"Now that everyone is here we can get started." He says, "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Mr. Collins. Today we will be starting unit one, relations and functions."
He drones on, his monotone voice making it easy to want to tune him out. I find it hard to pay attention, struggling between trying to tune out Stanley's chatter and writing down the notes on the board. Apparently Mr. Collins is also annoyed with Stanley's comments, turning around multiple times to shoot a series of withering glares in our direction. Of course, this only stops Stanley for a few seconds, immediately going back to huffing and complaining the moment Mr. Collins turns back around. After each warning, I can tell our teacher's patience is growing thinner and thinner, and after a particularly loud comment from Stanley he stops. He takes a deep breath and turns around.
"Mr. Worthington." He says, through gritted teeth. I don't know why he chooses to call his students by their last names. "Is there something you would like to share with the class?"
Stanley looks up like he never noticed he was there in the first place, "Not particularly, no." He says, "Do you have something you would like to share with the class, Mr. Collins?" His face adopts a look of fake sympathy and I can hear some of our class mates snicker. Mr. Collins however, just sighs, now looking more tired than irritated.
"Mr. Worthington, why do you continue to find trouble in my classroom?" He asks and Stanley shrugs.
"If it's any consolation sir, your classroom isn't the only one in which I 'find trouble'." He replies.
Mr. Collins sighs sadly, looking defeated. I almost feel sorry for the guy. Although instead of responding to Stanley's retort, he looks around the classroom. His eyes land on the other end of the room, and I turn around to see Maren and Riley sitting in the line of his gaze.
"Miss Pierce." He says, and Riley who had been writing something in her notebook looks up, looking a little startled to be called on.
"Um, yeah?"
"Have you and Mr. Worthington ever been acquainted?" He asks. Her eyebrows pinch together in confusion at the question and she casts a quick glance in our direction.
"Uh, no I don't think so." She answers.
Mr. Collins smiles a little, "Perfect." He says, "Mr. Smith, please switch seats with Miss Pierce." I look back to him, startled for a moment, but quickly grab my books. Riley does the same and beside me, the smirk has been completely wiped off Stan's face.
"Wait, why? What would that even solve?" He protests. Mr. Collins looks at him calmly, looking pleased with the reaction.
"Maybe if You're seated next to somebody you don't know, it will discourage you from distracting the the class with your chatter." He replies, and Stanley snorts.
"You're the only one who had a problem with it." He mutters, rolling his eyes. I stifle a smile at his grumbling, actually a little happy to be out of his talking range.
The class is mostly silent as both Riley and I get up with our things. As I pass, I shoot her an apologetic smile, feeling a bad for leaving her with Stanley. I feel a little better after she smiles back, and take my seat next to Maren, who looks more than a little angry that she got separated from her friend. I try to give her a smile, but she doesn't look at me, instead starring daggers at Mr. Collins and Stanley. I guess I should just be happy she isn't looking at me like that.
After we get settled, Mr. Collins sighs happily, "I'm sure you two will get along just fine." He says to Stanley and Riley, "You were both late, so you already have that much in common."
He turns around and starts teaching the lesson once more. I don't hear any talking from Stanley, or anyone else for that matter, I guess everyone got the message. Mr. Collins stops teaching when there's about fifteen minutes left to class, handing each person a worksheet. I glance over at Stanley and have to fight an smirk when I see him just sitting there, glaring at the sheet of paper like it ran over his dog or something. I take a look at Maren and notice the same look on her face, although she's actually doing the questions.
I decide to get to work on my own sheet, some of the questions are a little tricky but I manage to get through them, surprising myself with how much I retained. I stop halfway through when I notice Maren's pencil stop moving. When I look over, her eyebrows are scrunched together in confusion as she stares down one of the questions. Before I can ask if she needs help, she notices me looking and turns to me.
"Can I help you with something?" She asks me, sounding irritated. I feel my face heat up at being caught staring and I struggle to form a response.
"Um...". Not really my best start, "I was actually going to ask you if you needed help." I explain and she raises an eyebrow, "With the questions." I add quickly.
Maren rolls her eyes, "I think I can handle a few math questions, thanks." She says, a finality in her tone that tells me to drop the subject.
"Well I'm not too bad at this," I continue anyway, "and you looked like you were struggling so I-"
"Yeah, well I'm good." She cuts me off, turning back to her work and I sigh.
"It's okay to need help." I mutter, turning back to my own work. This time it's Maren that breaks the silence.
"Oh, excuse me if I don't want help from a guy that claims he's 'not too bad at this'." She retorts, raising her eyebrows at me. Even with the look she fixing me with, I can't help but smile as she throws my words back at me.
"Okay, maybe I could have phrased that differently." I admit, "But seriously, would you rather get help from me, or..." I gesture towards Mr. Collins, raising my eyebrows at her. She looks past me to where our teacher is absentmindedly chewing on a pen, his eyes glassy as he stares off in space.
"Yeah, that doesn't look very confidence inspiring if you ask me." I say grimacing. I look back at Maren, she's glaring at me. Although, it might just be me, but she almost looks amused.
"Fine." She says after a minute and I grin as she grudgingly slides her sheet over, "Number twelve." She instructs and I try not to let my surprise show, I'm only at number nine on my own sheet.
I take the piece of paper and look down at the equation, chewing my bottom lip as my brain works. I desperately try to latch onto all of the math I've done in my years of schooling, but I can't make sense if it. After a few seconds of looking at it I even tilt my head a little, as if seeing the question from a different angle would help. It doesn't. I'm drawing a blank. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly through pursed lips, scratching my head.
"Do you need some help?" Maren asks me tauntingly. I turn the meet her grey eyes, wide with mock sympathy. She's shockingly beautiful, I realize, especially when she's not glaring at me. I try to look serious, but it's hard when I see Maren trying to suppress a smirk.
"I got it." I tell her, suddenly finding it a lot harder to form a sentence. I look back down at the question in hope an answer will pop into my head.
"It doesn't look like you have it."
I shake my head, "I'm close to getting the answer, I can feel it." I reassure her, tapping my pencil on the desk absentmindedly, "Any minute now..."
"You know, it's okay to need help." Maren says after a second, echoing my earlier words. I shoot a glare at her, but it rises into a smile when I see her smirk.
"It's not nice to mock people." I chide. She grins and my smile falls, instead transforming into a look of awe. I knew she was beautiful before, but when she smiles, like a real smile. Wow.
"I'm not a nice person." She retorts. When I don't say anything she waves a hand over my face, "Hello? You in there?"
Realizing I've been staring for too long, I quickly advert my eyes, pretending to examine the question again as I feel my face heat up, "Yeah, I... it's just, I think I had a breakthrough with the problem." I lie.
"Really?" She asks. She starts to lean over but the bell rings, saving me. Maren shrugs and takes the sheet off my desk, "Oh well, I guess we'll never know."
"I guess not." I reply, grabbing my own sheet and stuffing it in my binder. She gets up from her desk and starts to walk towards the door, "Wait a second." I say, stopping her.
She turns around, her eyebrows raised expectantly, "John." I tell her after a second, "My name, it's John." I explain further.
"Maren." She replies with a nod.
"Yeah, I know." I say automatically, then start to backtrack as I realize what I said, "I mean, everyone knows you, I guess." Oh God, that sounds worse, "You play a lot of sports so..." I scratch the back of my neck, inwardly cringing at the sentence.
I look to her, relieved to see that she doesn't look weirded out or anything, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "See ya, John." She says.
She walks out, leaving me with a strangely happy feeling. Maybe math won't be so bad this year
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