Clayton's Girl

Chapter One

||Clayton||  

Waking up in the room of a new home still felt strange. The grip of my hand on the door knob felt foreign, and the smell in the hallway continued to be more like fresh paint, than of mom's classic lemon air freshener.

I climbed the stairs from the basement, making my way to the kitchen where I would undoubtedly be greeted with dad's famous new start omelets.

"Morning mom, morning dad." I took my seat at the table, admiring the perfect yellow blob, just perfectly burnt around the edges.

"How'd you sleep hunny?" Mom and dad simultaneously took their seats across the table from me.

"Alright, thanks dad." I signaled to the omelet as I dug in.

"You can move upstairs whenever you want." Mom coerced.

"I'm more than okay in the basement." I looked at dad who was gently shaking his head at my mother's persistence.

Dad and I had both laid our foot down on this. He agreed that I was plenty trustworthy to make the basement my room, despite the easy exit to the outside.

I'm not sure why she thinks I'd sneak out. I was never a troublesome kid.

Got into a few fights here and there, only on school grounds. That's about it.

Regardless, she was always a worrisome parent.

"So why just alright?" I looked up at her, confused by the question. "Your sleep?" She clarified.

I nodded in understanding and swallowed my current mouthful, "It was just hot down there." I shrugged.

"I told you we need to get the AC fixed down there." My dad gave mom a warning look and she quickly shoveled food into her mouth. "Larene, you can't sweat the boy out." He rolled his eyes before giving me a reassuring look, "I'll get it up and running for ya son."

"Thanks." My chair scrapped the floor as I stood up. "I'm running late, I'll see you guys later."

"Wait!" I watched my mom jump out of her chair, "Here." She dug through her purse and handed me a twenty. "Get some milk and eggs on your way home."

"Sure." I wrapped my hand around the bill, stuffing it in my pocket. "Bye." I grabbed my skateboard and ducked out the door.

-

"Mr. Moore!" A spinning motion surrounded me as I teeter tottered between the hazy world of sleep, and the bright white walls of the classroom. I rapidly rubbed my eyes, making Mr. Andrews sullen face more clear. "I know you're new here, but this will not be tolerated."

"Won't happen again." I shrugged, promptly shaking my head in the first second he looked away.

My head came to a halt as it turned left, my attention was attracted to a seat across the room.

There was a girl who had snarly brown hair. I'm not too sure if you could call it brown though. It had a very ashy, dull appearance. A faded unhealthy look that you would expect to see on a sixty year old smoker.

Her jeans had holes in them and instead of being for fashion purposes, they were obviously unintentional. Her shirt was relatively larger than her body, falling away all too loosely, hanging off the back of the seat. The sweatshirt was bulky, giving her a more husky appearance, but it was clear to me that she was a frail girl underneath. You could tell by her thin jaw line where the skin sunk in around the edges. Not extremely, but just enough to notice there wasn't much to her.