I wake up gasping and clutching at my bedsheets, the image from my dream fading quickly before I can remember it. All I can recall were a pair of eyes. So deep and brown and brooding. I shake the grogginess from my head, and quickly pull myself from bed before Grandmother feels she has to come drag me from bed. For an old lady she sure has some strength!
Not much variety I think to myself as I stare into my closet. While pulling my long hair into a messy bun my eyes roam from my closet to my bedside table. A picture of the most beautiful woman stares back at me from an antique frame I once found at a yard sale. I had found the picture a few years ago, hidden away in Grandmother's attic. I'm sure if she had known it was up there she would have never asked me to straighten it up. Grandmother doesn't like to talk about my mother. I sighed as I tucked the frame into a drawer.
A thump on my bedroom door makes me jump. 'Emalie! You'd better not make me come in there!'
'Five minutes' I call back. Her shoes clicking down the hall away from my room was the only response I got. I smile and roll my eyes at the woman's dramatics. She may not be the most loving, but she is the only family I've had for the last 10 years. My mother left me here on my 8th birthday. 10 years ago next week to be exact.
Quickly before Grandmother can come looking for me again, I grab my favorite floor length white lace skirt and pull on an over sized navy blue sweater over that.
After a quiet breakfast with Grandmother she pecks me on the cheek and I'm on my way to school. This was my favorite part about living in the city; I can walk everywhere. The cool breeze blows away the remaining sleep from my mind and I smile at the noise that my long black boots makes on the sidewalk as I walk. Grandmother is always busy, often leaving me to my own devices. I don't mind; I enjoy the quiet house.
Ginger is on the floor of the gymnasium when I find her. There are books and class notes scattered around her. She looks frazzled, as always before a big test.
'Working hard? Or hardly working?' I ask her, carefully avoiding jostling any of her papers. Ginger is a little… eccentric when it comes to studying.
Gingers gray eyes shoot me with a piercing glare. 'Don't start with me, miss 'I don't need to study because I have a photographic memory'.' Ginger rolls her eyes at me and turns back to her calculus.
I shrug off my messenger bag and sit down beside my best friend. I'm just starting to zone out when a commotion brings me back. Somebody has stomped on and scattered Gingers papers.
'Could you not?' Snorts Rebecca. She flips her crimson red hair over her shoulder and sneers down at Ginger and me. Rebecca rolls her eyes and takes another deliberate stomp on Gingers history notes. I look around, hoping to catch the eye of a nearby teacher. The only one within earshot is deliberately looking elsewhere. 'Daddy asked me to show the new guy around so naturally the first stop on the tour is loserville' Rebecca laughed at her own lame joke.
I internally roll my eyes. Of course the teachers won't get on to Rebecca. Not when her daddy is in charge of their jobs. The principal.
I sneak a glance at the new kid as him and Rebecca walk away. I jerk in surprise when I realize that he is staring back at me. For a moment I am trapped in his stare. His brown eyes barely hidden beneath his bangs that fall into his face. I quickly drop my gaze and help Ginger reorganize her notes.