Be My Addiction

2 • Quarterback

Eugene

"Eugene!" A high pitched voice sounded in my ear before I felt about 45 pounds of a 7-year-old land on my chest.

Groaning, I opened my eyes to see brown ones staring back. "Anna.. what are you doing?" I snapped, maybe a bit too rudely.

I'm not a morning person in the slightest.

Unfazed by my behavior, my little sister grinned "Mom told me to come get you. She's about to come up here with that horn."

Not the horn.

"My hero," I mumbled and she giggled as she hopped off the bed. She gave a salute after she found her footing, before stumbling off down the stairs. I swear if the girl didn't learn to walk soon, she'd break her neck.

I quickly gathered some clothes and headed to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I saw my sleepy state. My hair was a mess of dirty blonde and slight rose gold streaks. I hated it. Mostly because my girlfriend, Veronica, made it painfully obvious that she was into brunettes. She always wondered into the hair dye section when we went shopping and held up the dye as if to compare what I'd look like. She also always ogled the guys on the football team. Her type was guys with brown hair.

Stupid Irish ancestry.

After pulling on my t-shirt and jeans, I went downstairs, taking two steps at a time. Being 6'3" had its quirks.

At the kitchen, mom had set out a plate for me, and sure enough, there was an air horn sitting on the counter. She always used it to get me up when I slept for a little too long.

She smiled softly "morning. You're going to be late if you don't hurry up and eat" I flashed her a grin and inhaled my food, mumbling a thanks. She chuckled and shook her head. Shortly after I finished, I hugged her before grabbing my bag and darting to the car. It was a nice car and many think my mom bought it for me but I spent my money - money I worked for - to get the car. She was my pride and joy. A black charger. Her name was Beauty. As in Black Beauty.

My sister came up with the name for it.

I hopped in and started her up, smiling at the rumbling engine. Driving to school was fast; only a ten-minute drive.

Inside the school, excitement and curiosity was in the air. This was a small school so the sophomores, juniors and seniors knew each other pretty well. Friends were reuniting and talking about the latest gossip. Everyone was excited to be back with their friends.

And then there were the freshmen.

They looked petrified. I remember how I used to be as a freshmen so I could feel sympathy for them. Many didn't have friends and looked to the older kids as wolves - and with good reason.

There was a nickname for each grade. Seniors were senior citizens because they were the older people who didn't have stress about school anymore. Juniors were the janitors because they tended to be in charge of school activities as well as help kids with grades, technically picking up the mess they made of their school careers. Sophomores were surfers because they were trying to build up their grades and GPA so they could ride out junior and senior year. Much like surfers paddle right before the wave so they could ride it smoothly. And the freshmen were fresh-meat. Because they were new and it was common for them to be picked on by the older kids.

Thank god I'm a junior.

But there was another form of excitement. The excitement for new gossip. Everyone was talking about the rumor of a car crash that happened during summer break, about four months ago. Rumor has it, a sophomore, or now junior, had wrecked their car. But that wasn't what everyone was truly talking about. They were talking about how one of the passengers had died.

Heading to my locker, I shuffled things about, organizing my things. I had to speak during the school assembly today so I wouldn't have a chance to put my things away during the time everyone has to navigate towards the gym.

Most of the people I knew were going to be in the assembly too so I was more or less just wasting time until then.

As I was about to put another notebook in my locker, the room went silent. All the attention turned to the large school door, where a boy walked in. His name was Ethan Clyde Rhodes.