Someone Like Her

Part One

Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus on your breathing and nothing else. In. Out. In. Out. The sound of my sneakers hitting the pavement form a soothing rhythm to keep my mind focused on my breathing. At this point, I'll take anything I can get to distract me from my own thoughts and feelings. I breathe in deeply and propel myself forward faster, feeling the strain in my calves and hamstrings. I can't let my mind wander there or it could ruin everything, and this being my senior year that is not something I can afford. It's still faintly dark out, that glorious stretch of time in the early morning right before the sun starts to make its appearance- my favorite time of day. Most people are still asleep and there's just a peaceful calm about this period in time every morning that feeds my soul, before the chaos of the day begins. My senior year starts today and as much as I am trying not to think about anything at the moment, a hint of anxiety creeps subtly into my mind. Not because of school itself or anything like that; I do well in school. I play for the varsity softball team, have a great group of friends, and tend to get along easily with everyone else. My anxiety is more deeply rooted in something I just can't quite put my finger on yet and have been trying with all my might not to delve deeper into.

As the sun is starting to just barely peek over the horizon, I round the corner back onto my street. My neighborhood is still mostly quiet, with the exception of some sprinklers in front lawns and some dogs meandering into backyards as their owners wake and start their day. I begin to slow my pace when I'm about five houses from mine to start to wind down and can already see the first floor of my house lit up.

"Crap." I mutter to myself as I draw closer. I already know how this is going to go, I should have cut my run shorter than I did but trying to clear my head has become harder lately. I begrudgingly walk up the driveway to my front door and turn the knob.

"Dakota? Is that you?" my mom calls to me from the kitchen, a hint of agitation already apparent in her tone.

"Yeah mom, it's me... I just went for a run before getting ready!" I call back to her, sitting on the bottom step in the foyer while untying my sneaker. If I can just get these shoes off quick enough, I might be able to-

"Before you jet upstairs, can you come here please?" my mom's voice rings out from the kitchen again. Well double crap, not quick enough this morning. I remove my sneakers and place them off to the side on the mat designated for exactly that purpose before making my way to the kitchen. "Let Bentley in from the backyard then come sit, please." my mom barks, making me nearly jump out of my skin from her unexpectedly being in the dining room instead of the kitchen like I thought.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?" I snipe back, partially not meaning it to come out the way it does, but I'm still trying to get my heart to come back into my chest from being startled.

"Just go let the dog in and come sit please." her tone warns me to just do what I'm told. I trot over to the sliding back door to let in the one true love of my life thus far, our big chested, goofy, grinning pitbull. Bentley jumps onto the door the minute he sees me, trailing a slobbery path down the glass. I unlatch the door and slide it open, and the big goon lopes into the kitchen, tail wagging relentlessly.

"Good morning stud, how's my handsome man?" I coo to him while scratching behind his ear. He plants one quick and very sloppy lick across my face, then turns and tottles over to his food bowl to patiently wait for his breakfast. I chuckle to myself while watching his half strut/half waddle.

"Dakota, you can feed him in a minute, come here please." My mom's agitation seems to be growing. I pat Bentley on his big square head in passing on my way into the dining room. "Sit please." my mom motions to the chair across from her as if I'm one of her clients meeting with her in her office. I pull the chair back and plop down into it, leaning on my elbows on the table. "Didn't I ask you to please leave me a note letting me know when you go for a run, and to please take your cell phone with you, just in case?" my mom meets my eyes for a searing few seconds before returning her eyes to her laptop.