FIRE IN THE RAIN • STILES STILINSKI

01; like home

There's no place like home.

My day started badly and went steadily downhill from there.

I woke up twenty minutes late to the relaxing sound of my brother screaming from the landing. 'Arwen!' He screeched. 'Your socks are in the dishwasher!'

I groaned and rolled over. 'What? Emrys, for God's sake, it's 7am!'

'Your socks are in the dishwasher, next to my cereal bowl, and Mom says if you aren't downstairs in ten minutes you'll be late to school and fail all your exams and end living in a cardboard box!' He screamed. 'And I'll watch you and laugh!'

I hit my head against my pillow. Repeatedly. Then I rolled over and promptly fell out of bed.

'I think there are Lucky Charms in your socks, by the way!' My brother added.

****

I arrived at school only two minutes late, but with my hair sticking up wildly all over my head and the unpleasant sensation of a soggy marshmallow wedged between two toes.

Dropping into a random seat in my English class, I sighed heavily and started to desperately text my best friend, Kara.

SOS. Marshmallow in sock.

Then I rested my head on the desk and tried in vain to think of any good thing that had happened today.

I came up with nothing.

It was an old habit of mine. Whenever I complained, my dad always used to tell me to think of one positive thing that came out of the thing I was complaining about.

I was never very good at it.

The English teacher strode in, looking way more cheerful than any human being had any right to be this early in the morning, and started to talk energetically about metaphors and the use of them.

I dropped my head on the desk again and tried not to fall asleep.

****

Lunch was no better. Kara had apparently decided today was the day to pull a sickie, and so I sat alone on a table, trying to ignore the pricking feeling that someone was watching me.

There's nobody there, I told myself. Well, actually, it's the school cafeteria. Of course there are people there. But nobody's watching you.