Letters From An Admirer

Chapter | 02

02
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A shrill sound disturbs my deep, but dreamless slumber. I switch off the alarm producing the sound, and I don't even try to get up. I honestly don't have a memory of falling asleep yesterday night, except crying, and reminiscing about my deceased mother. Jane must have thrown the blanket, covering my body, over me last night, seeing as I fell asleep on top of the covers.

Gathering enough energy, I force myself out of bed and trudge to my ensuite. I open the tap of my shower to allow the cold water to become warmer, and I brush my teeth in waiting. After my breath is fresh enough, I strip off last night's clothes and step into the warm shower, allowing the soothing water to warm up every inch of my body.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my slim figure and I walk out of the steamy room. I choose a simple outfit which consists of a high-waisted, faded blue jean, and a cropped hoody, finishing off the look with a pair of white Converse shoes, and some lip gloss. I don't bother perfecting my hair, and I just settle on a simple messy bun, and after my look is completed, I grab my already packed school bag and head downstairs.

The smell of pancakes wafts around the passage ways and I already know who is out and about in the kitchen. I see Dave rhythmically swaying his body to the beat of the music blasting from his phone, as he professionally makes the delicious pancakes. I clear my throat and I immediately catch his attention, stopping his 'beautiful' dance routine, and I giggle at the embarrassed look on his face.

"Oh, morning." He says, a bit embarrassed. Dave is an awesome guy, no wonder Jane married him. He's fun and bubbly and he's actually super cool. He's the only father figure I have in my life, the only pillar I can actually lean on. He's been there even when my mother was alive, and he always treated me like his daughter. Sure Jane is there, but we're not really close. Things aren't awkward between us, but we don't exactly have a mother-daughter relationship. After the death of my mother, I find it really hard to let anyone in. Only my real mother understood me. The real me. So now, only Dave actually understands me.

"Hey, Da--Dave." I greet kindly, and take a seat on one of the three stools around the kitchen island.

"You can call dad, Riley." He chuckles. My tongue sometimes slips and I end up calling him dad, not that I mind it, but sometimes it's weird.

"I know, Dad." I enunciate the word. "I'm just getting used to it now." I explain.

"I understand." He comes over and pecks my forehead.

"Ready for the first day of senior year?" He asks, laying a plate of pancakes, graciously draped with chocolate syrup, in front of me. Delicious.

"Not really. What if today's the beginning of another one of those lonely high school years? Just sitting under a tree and reading books like an outcast."

"You're not an outcast, Ry-Bear." He says, sitting down with his own plate. "You're just not social enough to reach out and make friends." He says.

"I know, I know. I have to get out of my comfort zone." I recite his advice from the past years.

"Exactly. So if you can do that, you'll enjoy this year. I promise."

"I'll try." I sigh. I check the time and it's 7:10. I have an hour until I have to get to school, but I usually leave the house at 7:15.

"I have to go." I get up from my seat and give Dave a peck on the cheek as I say bye to him.

"Bye Ry-Bear." His voice fades away as I close the front door behind me.

The walk to school isn't as boring. It's only a ten minute walk and I spend it mostly listening to music, and thinking about the wonders of nature. Yeah, I'm not weird. I'm just fascinated. Many things capture my imagination, drawing me in until I can't withdraw back from the deep pull. My inquisitive mind doesn't help at all, leaving me to ponder about anything and everything. Okay maybe I'm exaggerating, but still, I'm serious.

My legs soon reach the familiar building of Barrington High, the most splendid school, as some say, but I think its just another place to have your heart shattered and bleeding in different ways. Why is that? Well, let me list the reasons for you:

1) Our school is your typical stereotypical school you find out there.

Everyone has been classified into various groups. Your jocks, nerds, populars, normal people, etc. So if you're at the bottom of the food chain, don't bother trying to climb your way up, or else you'll be devoured by the time you reach the top, sending you tumbling back to the bottom of the stairs.

And we all know where I fall.

2) We have players.

Everyone knows what happens when you fall 'in love' with a player. One moment you're all gidy inside and you feel like you have the whole zoo parading in your stomach, and the next thing, your tears flood the earth. One decision of giving yourself to that guy, led your heart to a slaughter-house, just to be cut into thin pieces, and sometimes minced.

Luckily, I've never found myself in that picture.

3) There's always an outcast.

Me.

I'm not really offended by it, just because I've learnt to accept it. My mother always told me that one should not seek acceptance from everyone, but one should accept everyone. We are all different. No one shares the same smile as you. No one lives in the same story as you. We just need each other to create stories and memories. So I've learnt that I'm not accepted everywhere, mainly high school, but at least I have a family who accepts me.

The list goes on, never-ending, actually. So I guess you get the gist; our school sucks.

I push open the school doors and greet the too familiar hallway, overcrowded with students. Conversation bustles around the thin air, going from one ear to another. People are catching up, filling each other in on their past adventures and exciting moments.

I walk to my old friend; my locker, and I change my books according to my schedule. My locker looks the same as I left it. The same lavender scent still rests in every corner of the metal box, and my daily quotes still decorate its blue walls. I actually missed it.

Not weird at all.

"... Ashton Rider." Really loud whispers catch my attention, and I can't help but listen in on them.

"Seriously? That guy is bad news though."

"Who cares?! He's freaking hot!"

"But why's he coming to our school?"

"He was expelled from his old one."

"Okay... "

Just then, the shrill bell rings, warning everyone that they have five minutes to get to their class.

But my mind is still stuck on who is Ashton Rider.

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Chapter 2 is done and dusted. Whoo!

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