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ONE
comeback
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I take one last look at my ruby painted nails before strutting through the military green metal gates of Winston High and Technical Academy. I had picked out an all black outfit for today, very unlike my usual self who has pink as her domain color. I was receiving the attention too, but more glances towards my clothes, to my preference.
As I passed the massive lush green soccer field, I hear someone call out my name in a faint voice. I turn around to see Connor running up towards me, a blue and black rugged soccer ball in hand. Connor Davenport is my sixteen-year old, skinny, pale step-brother with immense talents in athletics. He was adopted by my ignorant parents from an orphanage when I was seven. I had spent nearly two years of my childhood trying to hate him but in vain. Unlike the usual step-brothers, well, the ones that beat their sisters and are evil, Connor comes nowhere near that. He is an adorable yet annoying baby brother that anyone can wish for, and mind you, I had broken a guy's leg once who had tried to bully him.
"Hey big sis! Finally, huh?" He gives me a wide toothy grin while panting for breath.
"Yeah, whatever. I hope Mr. and Mrs. Davenport aren't aware of my whereabouts?" I shoot him a questioning eye. I don't refer to my parents as Mom and Dad in their absence.
"Uh, no. They left for some urgent business this mornin'...wait, you are coming from home right?" he asks, looking confused. I don't know how he managed to call that place 'home'.
"Of course....didn't quite bother to check on my so-called parents when they themselves don't know about a whole suicide attempt taking place at their house." I roll my eyes and groan.
"Van...please don't you remind me of that...you know you're special, at least to me" Connor looks at me with his puppy-dog eyes and I smile. Nobody could tell we weren't actually blood-related. In fact, we were pretty similar with the same dimpled smiles and ocean blue eyes except that our accents differed so much. I was born in Australia, Connor was British.
"I gotta go and pick up my new schedule. Have a great day, sophomore!" I say ruffling his hair and moving forward towards the Administrative Block.
Today was my day one of senior year. Only for me, though. The rest of my class had begun four days ago and here I am, after a mysterious disappearance.
"Vanessa Davenport, Senior Year." I say impatiently to the old lady behind the counter. She gives me a strange look handing me my schedule, perhaps because she hasn't ever seen a high-school girl starting four days late, in her thirty years of faithful service.
I lean against my locker door to learn my schedule. I had AP World History, Genetics and oh damn, Mathematics today. I mentally make a note to go swimming to relax my nerves after the mathematics class.
