DISCONTINUED.

negative fifteen.

Warner.

The day started with the burning of smoke through my open window and the brisk air that occompanied the early morning.

The smoke was from our neighbors. My aunt had probably burned their breakfast.

Again.

I tugged on a plain grey t-shirt over my icy, bare chest, seeing as I sleep without one on, and slide into a pair of worn jeans. As I ran a hair through the dark locks I inherited from my father, I heard a series of passing knocks on my door.

I could imagine the sticky notes that would be plastered over my younger sister, Alia's, room. I would only have two stuck to the outside of my door, since I began locking my door at night. Alia acted like she only allowed our mom to decorate her room with them to appease them, but I knew that she secretly loved them. She would save a few of them each day, so it was easy to tell that she appreciated them.

My parents were big on giving us boosts of encouragements everyday, which is where the sticky notes came into play. My mom would make sure to put them in places she knew Alia would see them in the morning, like on her phone or on her mirror, or even on her toothbrush.

When I opened my door, I made sure to check the two post-it notes that I knew would be there; one from mom and one from dad.

In my dad's slanted writing, it read, 'Someday someone is going to make you see everything a little bit brighter, and today you might meet that person, so brush your damn hair.' I can't help but chuckle at that, and drag my hand through my hair again.

My dad's really big on the whole 'love' thing. I know he loves my mom; hell, everyone in this damn town can tell how smitten he is with her. He still does romantic shit with her, like opening doors for her, and picking her up and spinning her around. I may not think love's as important as dad makes it out to be, but I do know it exists. At least for my mom and dad, that is.

The other note was written in a curlier font, with loops on the ends of the y's. 'Dear Baby, take whatever gets thrown at you today, and list five good things that can come out of it, because obstacles are what make life worth living. -Ma.'

My mom was someone who lived in the moment. She made the best out of any bad situation, and took it on head first. She didn't run from her problems, and she didn't make excuses. Once, she told me that she used to be the opposite way, but she realized she was wasting all the good in her life, so she learned to deal with life. It's hard to imagine her being any different than she is now, though.

I carelessly stuck both the notes to my desk, and went into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Once my teeth were brushed, and everything was situated, I hurried downstairs. In the kitchen, I find not only my mom cooking scrambled eggs while my dad waits, watching her with an undone tie, which I know he's waiting for her to do for him, and Alia sitting at the counter; I also see the girl from next door.

Technically speaking, if I considered my parent's best friends, and our neighbors, Gia and Sam as my aunt and uncle, than Rory Harper is my cousin. They've been friends since way back in the day, though, so the line between friends and siblings has been thoroughly meshed.

On the other hand, you're not supposed to think your cousin is hot, so I dismissed the notion quickly. Rory was hot, any warm-blooded teenage guy could see that, including me. Her light, dirty blonde hair was now down to her waist in length, and I could imagine knotting my hands in it, and she had perfectly proportional blue eyes that lit up when she was excited, and turned grey like clouds when she was nervous or upset. She was slim, and her body curved in all the right places; and God, if we lived in another world, would I take the chance to memorize the curves and slants of her body.