Chapter 2
(Summer's point of view)
The day I met Will, September 18th happened to be a Tuesday. I found this to be somewhat ironic as Molly and I had this thing when we were friends about Tuesdays. Tuesdays were days of magic.
We had seen every Narnia, Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter movie on a Tuesday, and because of this we had come to the conclusion that Tuesday's were... magical. A day where the borders of sanity collided with fantasy.
A day where anything could happen. And happen something magical did that one Tuesday, because meeting Will Marks was nothing less than magical.
The day started out normal enough. I woke up feeling glum, and wanting to laze about home rather than get the education that was required by my lovely state of California... maybe head down to the beach.
But life was one of those things that you just had to deal with, so I tossed the idea quickly from my mind, and got dressed in a lose pair of jeans and a top that wasn't exactly flattering on me... but who did I have to get dressed up for? Max?
As if. Max wouldn't care if I came to school wearing a garbage bag, so long as I had changed out of it by the time I had to eat dinner with his family or anything. Besides, any guy in the grade who got caught looking at me for too long got pounded to a pulp by Max and his crew.
Max as he had gotten older had become a player in full, by joining the varsity football team as it's quarterback, making him not only the most popular kid in our high school but also the strongest, considering he had the football team in tow for anyone who disobeyed him.
The fear that this caused left the other guys in my grade quaking in their boots, so much that they wouldn't even get near me anymore, much less look at me. So the chance of dressing up for them was a total hell to the nah.
I sighed, as I brushed my long nutmeg hair straight, not even bothering with the makeup that had managed to form a messy pile on the edge of my dresser. Once I had felt that I had needed that makeup to face the scrutiny of the rest of my kids at school. You know, the one's always comparing me to the rest of Max's girls. But now...
I was used to it I guess.
I could certainly handle myself now against their accusations. So what if I wasn't as pretty as Max's other girls? That was fine. Even though I wasn't as pretty I was still Max's official girlfriend. When a dance rolled around, he didn't bring them, he always brought me. I was the only one Max had ever shown his room, or brought to dinner. And even though I may not look as pretty as the others with or without makeup, which was still more than those girls could say.
And it's not as though Max was always bagging on my looks. He did his best to compliment me... most of the time, when he wasn't wrapped up in another girl. When that happened, and his new flavor of the week rolled in, he couldn't be bothered to do such trivial things.
But, once again, as the 'official girlfriend' I had gotten used to Max's bi-polar mood and attention swings to the point where it didn't matter to me anymore. He didn't love me, he liked me enough, but he didn't love me.
And he never would.
And I was OK with that... most of the time. When our relationship had been in its middle years, after I had realized he wasn't going to be breaking up with me anytime soon, I had been constantly seeking his attention. Trying to please myself by pleasing him. But now... his attention was like the makeup, it was useless and got me nowhere.
I didn't need it.
OK, well sometimes I needed it... but not as much as I used to. Taking one last glance at the makeup I felt a pang of sadness. A pang of how I couldn't be like other girls who would take ages in the morning to make themselves perfect so others could admire them.
