Chapter 11: Olivia Finds Her Long Lost Sister. . .Kinda

The next day. . .

"'Tis another glorious day, Miss Olivia, time to get up and face it."

I groaned. After my escapade with Steve yesterday, the day turned dull. Dad didn't even stay for dinner. He left for "urgent business", as he called it, and never returned. Ask if I cared. Nope! I just stayed on the internet until dinnertime and then I ate and got back on the internet and fell asleep and got up and moved to the bed and then fell asleep for good. What? I'm too tired for correct grammar, punctuation and spelling.

Now I was curling up into a ball, throwing the covers over my head with an angry growl. I really did not feel like getting up and going to school today, especially not after I skipped it yesterday. They'd be looking for a note, something I did not have and never would. Maybe I could just get away with an excuse. Probably not, said my brain, and it was usually right too.

It was no use trying to go back to sleep, though. My room was too bright for me to ever get back to sleep, and plus, I had to go to school or they would really call my parents. So I forced myself to wash up and change into my uniform, in which I added my own socks, jacket and jewelry (today was a gold and silver color scheme).

Then I left my room, my shoulder bag on my shoulder, and moved towards Steve's room. The fact that the door was closed was normal; the guest room door was always closed. All the doors were always closed. It was when they were open that something was wrong. I slowly opened the door, peeking my head in.

Steve was still sleeping—I couldn't really blame him, it was six something in the morning—and the room looked like it wasn't even being used. It was still neat, clean and tidy looking. I smiled softly. This secret was becoming almost too easy to keep. I closed the door and continued down the hall to go eat breakfast.

It was when I was in the limo on my way to school that my heart hammered in my chest. What was I supposed to tell Jonesy and Emmy? Could I tell them the truth? Was that even safe? What if they didn't even believe me? I didn't want to have them come over and meet him, at least not without Steve telling me it was okay first. I was so jumpy I had to sit on my hands to even stay remotely still.

I almost stopped breathing when we passed the field. What if more Avengers appeared? Could I house them all in my house? Probably. Said my brain. But wouldn't someone start noticing? Namely, Edward. Having three people in the house would be easy, yeah, but six? Could I really hide all of them in here? And what if even more came? Nick Fury? Maria Hill? Coulson? Nah, he's dead. Or he's not dead. It depends on who you ask.

Finally we reached the school. Edward wished me to have a good day and I bid him the same. Then I started up the staircase towards the school. There were some students hanging around outside, sitting on the stairs and having conversations or standing beside the huge front doors.

St. Weston's School for the Gifted was a school for rich kids owned by adults who used to be rich kids. "Gifted" was their way of saying "born into money we didn't really need". I quickly spotted Emmy and Jonesy standing beside the door. Jonesy was sitting on the edge of the railing, talking with Emmy who stood in front of her. Neither of them saw me coming, and I expected to sneak up on them, until Jonesy spotted me and waved so dramatically half the people standing up near the door turned to look.

I grinned and waved back. Emmy smirked. "Well, well, well, look who it is," she said when I reached them. "Now, what was up yesterday that you couldn't come to school?" Jonesy jumped up, throwing an arm across my shoulders and grinning excitedly in my face. "And who was that someone?" she whispered excitedly. "Do tell." I laughed. "It's a. . .long story," I confessed.

Emmy shrugged as she opened one of the many bright red doors lining the huge school building. "We've got time," she said. "So spill. Who is he?" "How do you know it's a he?" I asked as we strode in shoulder to shoulder, Emmy to my right and Jonesy to my left. "Because it has to be." Emmy answered nonchalantly. "Now come on. No more stalling. Who is he?"

I looked from Emmy to Jonesy, unsure if I should tell them or not. "Look, I'm not going to tell you," I said. "But I can show you." "Ooh!" Jonesy squealed excitedly. "When?" "Later on this week. Or this weekend. Or next week," I shrugged, and Emmy raised an eyebrow at me in suspicion. "I don't know, I'll have to see." Emmy and Jonesy exchanged glances, as if asking each other whether or not they should believe me.

"Okay," Emmy finally said. Then she wagged a finger in my face, glaring at me. "And I do expect to be shown something good." "Or something hot," Jonesy corrected. "At least, I'd expect that. I'd expect to be shown I hot boy." I pretended to look up at the ceiling in thought. "Well. . ." I murmured, and Emmy laughed. "Oh Olivia, you're such a dog," she teased, play hitting me on the arm. "I can't believe you're cheating on Clayton Summers, though," Jonesy sighed.

All the blood rushed to my face. "Jonesy, God!" I gushed as she broke into laughter. "Me and Clayton aren't even friends, let alone—" "Olivia, watch out!" Emmy's warning came about three seconds too late. I had already collided with the figure in front of me which, much to my dismay, was a head shorter than I was.

I stumbled back, and luckily Jonesy caught me. I couldn't say the same for the other person, who toppled to the floor. "Oh my God!" I gasped. "I'm so sorry!" It was a short girl with long, stringy black hair, pale skin and huge grey eyes. Her uniform looked a little oversized, her shoes old, beat up Converse sneakers. She looked like a freshman, which made it even worse. Her books and papers scattered all over the floor.

I helped her to her feet, all the while she stayed quiet and kept her head low. Emmy, Jonesy and I helped her gather her things and then stood up. "I'm so, so, so, so sorry!" I repeated. "Geez Livvie, she gets the picture, you said it like fifteen times now, I was counting," Jonesy says, placing her hands on her hips. With the three of us standing shoulder to shoulder and the hall as busy as it is, it's almost impossible for the girl to get past us.

"I'm Olivia—" "Oh God, here she goes introducing us to random people," Emmy murmured under her breath. I glared, hoping the girl hadn't heard her. "This is Emmy, and that's Jonesy." The girl's huge eyes scanned over all of us. "Oh," she said in a quiet, mousy voice. Her hair hid most of her face. "I-I-I'm Anastasia. But. . .but I-I like just Anna." "Okay. Sorry about bumping into you though, Anna—" I was interrupted by an opening forming in the crowd and Anna bolting for it. "S'okay," she mumbled as she ran.

"Damn that chick's fast," Jonesy murmured. "I guess her skinny chicken legs do work." "Jonesy!" Emmy and I chorused. "As random as that encounter was. . ." Emmy murmured, tucking a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. "We have to get going. Homeroom is in like, two minutes." Emmy was right, we didn't have much time. We all split to get to our lockers, and I noticed that Yvonne Thorn happened to be at her locker at the same time I was.

"Hey Olivia," she said as I walked up. Our lockers were right beside each other, and we were often stuck standing there together as we gathered our things. I won't say that we became friends, because we didn't, but we became something close to friends. . .that still wasn't quite friends. It's hard to explain. All I know is that Yvonne is a photographer for the school newspaper and she always wears her camera around her neck and her strawberry blonde hair in a ponytail.

"Hey," I said as I put in my combination. "How are things?" "Good. Me and Ivan are going out to Olive Garden this weekend, even though I told him I hate Olive Garden," The funny thing about Yvonne is that no matter what she's talking about, she keeps a smile on her face, even though you can hear the anger in her voice. It's kind of weird sometimes. "Ah, I hate stubborn boyfriends," I reply. "Not that I've ever had a boyfriend, that is." She laughs.

Ivan Colter was Yvonne's on-again-off-again boyfriend. I really don't understand those type of relationships; either you're on or you're off, you really cannot be both. Yvonne closed her locker, her books in her arms, and turned to face me completely. She had those kind of intense dark eyes you swear could see straight into your soul.

"So," she began in her usual chipper tone. "Are you going to The Rivera sisters' party this next weekend? They said everyone's invited to come." I shook my head. "Nah," I declined. "I'm not a partier." "Hmm," Yvonne said, twisting her lips to the side. "I guess you're right, I never heard that you went to any parties. It's cool, though. Well, see you." "Bye!" I waved and smile at her before she bounded off.

Speak of the devil, the Rivera twins rushed down the hallway, and Yvonne joined them in conversation. If St. Weston's School for the Gifted had a scale of popularity—Level 5 being Erica Grey popular and Level 1 being the upmost nerds, the Rivera twins were Level 4. Both were tall and skinny like models, with long pin straight platinum blonde hair, almond green eyes and perfect skin. And they always wore the best clothes, because their mom was a fashion designer.

But knowing the Rivera twins, their party was going to be a drunken party. . .with expensive alcohol, of course, not that we're supposed to be drinking it in the first place. Believe it or not, they were really nice, if they weren't total suck ups to Erica. What about Yvonne, you may be wondering? She's a Level 3, like me. I've got my friends, and my friends outside of my friends, and my acquaintances. I'm just where I need to be. I don't want to go any higher.

After gathering my books, I shut my locker and dashed off to class.

0o0o0

I zoomed through the morning in a blur. Homeroom, where I lied about my absentee note, was the most interesting event. I passed through the hallways like a ghost, even though some people stopped to ask me where I had been yesterday. I just told them I was home as a little joke—some people laughed and some people didn't. I never really told them much, though.

Lunch was when things got interest.

Jonesy and Emmy were at our usual table with two of our other friends—Aaron and Izzy. The only one missing was Fang, but he was away on vacation. As I was walking towards them, I noticed Anna from earlier today sitting alone at a table in the corner. I can't help it, I'm a people person. I hate to see others being discriminated against, or bullied, or treated unkindly, or whatever. Emmy sometimes calls me President Wilde when I do stuff like that, and I knew she was about to really call me that today.

I went over to the girl, but instead of sitting down with her, I stood in front of her. "Hey, Anna," I said, and she looked up at me nervously. She looked more like a middle schooler than a high schooler. "Wanna sit with my friends and me? Please? It's my apology for, you know, bulldozing you in the hallway."

She looked away from me and around the cafeteria. I wondered if she was looking for where I was sitting. I held my tray of food in one hand and pointed with the other. "We're over there." She spotted my table, whose inhabitants were all looking this way.

"O-O-Okay," I barely heard her stutter. She gathered her soda and brown paper bag of food, stood, and followed me over to the table. "Anna, you remember Jonesy and Emmy," I said when we reached them. "And this is Aaron and Izzy. Izzy, Aaron, this is Anna." Everyone said their hellos and Anna and I took our seats.

Aaron looked into his brown bag like he does almost every week and looked away, disgusted. "Okay, anyone wanna trade for a—" "NO." Us girls all chorused, expect for Anna, who was just watching with wide eyes. "Whatever you do, do not trade with him," Emmy said to the small girl. "It's always a squished PB and J sandwich." Aaron rolled his eyes. "Look, usually my mom packs things that won't get squished in my locker." He said.

Anna's eyebrows went up. "Your mom packs your lunch?" she asked quietly. Jonesy and I busted out laughing, and Emmy pointed accusingly at Aaron. "You set that one up for yourself," she said, and Aaron nodded. "I did, I did," he murmured. Before we could even move, Izzy laid out a new painting on the table. She loved art as much as I loved writing.

"Read it and weep," she said as she spread it out. "Well, observe it and weep. But don't weep on the paper, you'll stain it." It was a beautiful painting of a barren tree using the colors of a rainbow. We all gushed about it, expect for Aaron, who said it sucked and Emmy punched him in the arm. "You're really good," Anna mumbled with a small smile, and Izzy smirked. "Thanks," she said, rolling the painting back up.

"I like writing," Anna said. I gasped. "Me too!" I exclaimed, and she gave me a soft smile. "Stories? Fan Fiction?" She nodded. "Both," she agreed. I think I just found my twin. Aaron held up his hands. "Wait, she has to pass the initiation question before Anna can be declared Olivia's official sister," he said. Jonesy began a drumroll on the table.

Aaron leaned forward with a foreboding expression. "Do you. . ." he began darkly, and Emmy rolled her eyes with a smile. "Love. . .the. . .Avengers?" A huge grin split Anna's face. "I absolutely positively love them," she agreed. "I memorized the whole movie." I nearly hug tackled her. Yup. I found my twin.

I also found the person I was going to tell my new "secret" to first.

(A/N: Sorry that this fic is turning into "An Avengers Fan Fiction About Original Characters Featuring the Avengers as Minor Side Characters", but like I said in the beginning, bear with me, it'll start getting good! I just need to, y'know, set up the plot and all. Oh, and someone. . .WORTHWHILE will be here in the next few chapters or so ;-) )