Letting Go-Chapter Two

Locking the door behind me, I clutch my coffee mug in one hand, and my keys and purse in the other, walking to my car.

I'm the late October weather, my breath comes out in smoke this colder-than-normal morning.

Today is already terrible. I broke my hair brush, spent forever finding my bookmarks, and burnt my breaskfast(eggs)to a crisp, when I spent too long brushing my teeth.

Sliding into the drivers side seat, I set my mug on the dashboard, careful not to spill. That's all I need, to spill something in this brand new car.

Every time I start a new high school, I make it a point to get whatever car is newest that year. Or, every time I've started a high school since cars were invented that is. So this year after I enrolled at Hoke High, I got this 2013 Mustang. It's black, and the only thing I've added are tweety-bird seat covers. I have an obsession with tweety.

Flipping my visor down, I examine myself in the mirror, and frown.

I know I'm not ugly, but I still think there's a lot(and I mean a WHOLE lot) of room for improvement. My skin is a light copper, with a few dark freckles on other side of my nose my eyes are a rich and vibrant purple, tilted slightly down. My face is oval shaped, and slim, and I have a small, straight nose and medium sized lips-not too plump, not too thin.

My ears however are the things I hate most about myself. Most people's ears are probably round, and stick out a little bit. Mine are pointed along the edges like the top of a maple leaf, and lay flat to my head. I manage to keep them covered, but it's a hassle. My hair does the job well, being so long and curly. It's ink black, and shines purplish-blue in the sun, just like ink.

A few decades ago, I was fully convinced that I was a fairy. But then I snapped out of it. There's no such thing as fairies, or magic. But I know one thing: Whatever I am... it's not anything normal.

Taking sip of my coffee, I straighten out my outfit, which consists simply of a long black sweater, black skinny jeans, and my normal black military-grade boots.

I used to try to keep up with the trends, but it was tiring. All teenegers think their so cool when they get new clothes, not realizing that they're all wearing variations of the exact same things. So I gave up. I don't take any steps to I make myself stand out, and it's suiting me just fine.

Sighing, I close my visor and start up the car starting the journey to high school like I have since as far back as I can remember.

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Loading my books into my locker, I block my ears from the near roar of students' various conversations. Over the years I've grown accustomed to what the different social groups talk about.

Gossip and fashion from the popular girls(even though their outfits are practically cloned, sports for the jocks, science projects from the "nerds", and plans to meet behind the school for a secret rendevú from the unending number of couples.

The trick to blending in seamlessly is to always move purposefully-not too fast, not too slow-like you know exactly what you're doing(even if you dont).

Taking a quick glance at my hair to make sure it's securely over my ears, I close my dull grey locker and make my way(ever purposefully) to class, where I take my seat. The classroom starts to fill up slowly, teenagers filing in slugishly, their eyes glued on their cell phone screens, and I watch from my seat in the middle.

Another tip: if you sit in the front, you are likely to be noticed, but you'll be equally noticed interest back, as teachers get suspicious. To blend effectively, you must be in the middle, like you have nothing to hide(but if you have something to hide, you'll most likely get caught no matter where you sit).

Joanna stalks in the room, her heels clicking loudly on the linoleum floor. She slides her coat off and lays it on the desk. "Good morning class."

Some kids mumble a hello, while others grumble miserably. Teenagers are so grumpy in the morning.

I scribble a greeting on my etchpad and hold it up for her. She smiles at me. "Good morning, Saige. At least I can count on you to be happy every day."

She goes back to unpacking her bag, I'm surprised as I notice her outfit. Her usual dull colors are gone, replaced by a hot pink blouse tucked into crisp white slacks, and silver heels.

I write a compliment on my old and show her, and her face colors slightly. "Thank you, Saige."

To she glares at the rest of the class. "Pull out your textbooks," She orders. "I trust you all have turned your homework in by now. You're too old for me to go chasing after you for it. "Mr. Makenon, I assume you will receive an "F" and a detention as usual?"

Jacob Makenon, this year's trouble maker, grins at her. "You know me too well Mrs. J."

She only nods to this, and writes a note in her records. "Another detention for you, nothing new. You'd think you'd want to leave with everyone when everyone else does."

"Sometimes you want to be anywhere but home," he answers, his face dead serious for once.

Joanna purses her lips, no doubt thinking the same thing as me: what on earth is happening at home to me him want to be here? In detention of all places.

I've seen a lot of these cases throughout my life. More than any government officials or social worker. I should help him.

Joanna beats me to it. "I'd like to see you after class, Jacob."

No matter how mean Joanna likes to act she has a kind and caring heart. That's what makes her a great teacher.

I really would have helped the boy though. No matter how much I want to stay invisible; I refuse not to help someone who needs it. The was I see it, I'm either extremely blessed or extremely cursed to live this long. Either way, I know I won't waste it. Ever.

"Turn to chapter fifteen in your textbooks so we can go over it. This chapter-" She's cut off by a knock at the door. She walks over different opens it, but I can't see who's on the other side.

"Mrs. Jackson?" That is clearly not a female voice.

"Yes. I trust you are one of-"

"Yes ma'am. My brother got caught up in the office, but he'll be here in a moment." The voice is deep, and has an English accent, surprisingly. An English accent here? In North Carolina?

Joanna nods and steps back. Everyone holds their breath as a guy steps through, running hand through his hair.

I gape, and everyone else gasps. He's our new student? And he has a brother? Two guys?

The whole class is scarily quiet, do I don't blame them. This has never happened before-and I don't get to say that often.

The boy is tall, over six feet, and has black, short cut hair that's gelled into a messy style as if he's done nothing to it, even though it probably took a little effort to get it like that. I can't tell what color his eyes are.

"Find seat. Quickly please, we were about to start."

Those eyes scan the room, pausing on a few faces, before landing on me. His head tilts to the side, and he flashes me a confused frown before moving on. I let out a breath, relaxing, until his eyes land back on me, and he starts towards me.

Oh no.. I can't deal with another child trying to "hook up" again. Not now.

He stops in front of the desk, and I glance up. "Is this seat taken?" he asks.

I shake my head, looking away. He slides into the seat, setting his notebook on the desk, and holds out a hand. "I'm Guy."

Nodding, I keep my head angled forward. I will not even write anything to him. He can talk all he wants, but I'm not saying anything.

He leans forward, trying to look at my face, but I look away.

"You must be really shy huh..." he says under his breath. "My brother is just like you."

When I don't answer, he chuckles, and raises his hand.

"Excuse me?"

Joanna raises her head from the papers she's grading, and frowns at him. "What is it?"

Smugness takes over as I observe her irritated expression. No special treatment for the new student, I see.

Guy doesn't seem to mind, as he just flashes her a grin. "Would you mind telling me this charming girls name? She seems to be a tad shy."

Those simple words spoken in his deep voice and accent seem almost seductive; I can hear all the girls sigh. Joanna smiles at him, popping my bubble of smugness.

"That's Saige. Don't worry its not you, Saige doesn't talk. We don't know why. But if you ever need any help, she's the one to ask. In fact, Saige?"

Mentally groaning, I look at her.

"Will you show the boys around school for the next couple days? You're the only one I trust in this room."

My disdain must show on my face now, because Guy tries to come to my rescue.

"No its okay, I'm sure we'll manage."

But now I feel bad. I pick up my own and write a reply, holding it up for Joanna to see. She nods, still smiling. "She'll do it. Just show her your schedule after class, and she'll take care of you."

Multiple grumbles sound throughout the room from disappointed females, and I sigh. So much for staying relatively invisible.

The whispers suddenly start up again.

"Look, there's other one," someone says, and I look up. Sure enough, an exact replica of Guy stands in the doorway. Well, would be an, exact replica except his hair is long, pulled back with a hair band, and he wears a severe glare on his face

He doesn't bother looking for Joanna, just stalks straight to the seat on my other side, reaching over my head to smack his brother on top of his.

Guy just laughs. "Hey, I was going to wait for you, but you were taking way too long. You made it here didn't you?"

The other Guy sits, saying nothing, and a powerful, yet pleasant scent floats off of him to me. I start to feel slightly lightheaded, and shake my head to clear it.

"Glen this is Saige. According to Mrs. Jackson, she's the only trustworthy person on the class."

Glen turns towards me, his eyes observant. I'm pretty sure I stop breathing. His eyes are blank. No pupil, no iris... nothing. He frowns, looking struck for a second before he composes himself, and glares at me with such hatred it startles me.

"You'll both get along great. You never say anything," Guy mumbles. I turn back to face forward, drawing my arms in close to my body to avoid touching them both.

Joanna looks back at us. "Share your book with the boys honey. I'll have some for them tomorrow."

I open my book right in the center area between us, and Guy leans in. Glen doesn't.

What is his problem?

..............................................................

Out back behind the cafeteria, I keep my head angled down as a group crowds around me. Or more specifically, around Glen and Guy. Most of the group is made up of females, which isn't surprising.

Guy is taking it in stride, but Glen looks ready to pop a fuse. Then again, he always looks ready to explode. Why is he so angry?

I've avoided him religiously since he glared at me so fiercely earlier. I literally run whenever he gets too close. He looks at me like I'm crazy, but I'm terrified of him.

"Saige?"

I look up, and Guy frowns at me. "Are you okay?"

Everyone stares at me now, and, embarrassed, I stand. I hate attention with a fury. It's never lead to anything good for me.

But for some reason, I risk a glance at Glen. He's still glaring out at nothing. Do I want him to look at me? What is wrong with me?

Shaking my head, I turn and bolt back through the cafeteria. I hear people calling my name, but I just keep going until I'm out of the school and to my car. Once there, I take some deep breaths to calm myself, start it up, and drive myself home.