The Write Way [COMPLETED]

Chapter 1: Rewritten

"Don't throw up, don't throw up. Marlee, don't you dare throw up."

I squeeze my eyes shut and grip the edge of the sink, nerves like angry bees race through me. I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I do it again and again until my stomach starts to settle.

"You just have to make it through today."

I breathe out again. When I'm certain I'm not going to vomit, I open my eyes and let go of the sink. I pause, waiting to see if my nerves will hit me again, but they've calmed down. Relieved, I leave my bathroom and my slightly nauseous looking reflection. I tug on my worn Converses. They look as old as me with tears in them and sharpie marks along the edge. But they've been with me for every big moment and today I need their good luck.

Grabbing my backpack and gym bag, I jog down the stairs and head into the kitchen. My mom leans against the counter, coffee cup in hand. Even dressed in scrubs, she's beautiful. Her black hair is tied into a ponytail and her brown eyes blend well with her tan skin. I inherited every one of her features, except where she wears them with confidence, I'm still trying to feel comfortable in them. She eyes me over the rim of her mug.

"Are you feeling?" She asks.

"Like I want to throw up," I admit, reaching for a mug.

I pour myself coffee, needing the boost.

"You're going to do great," she says.

"I might if I don't end up puking all over the judges."

My mom laughs, a sound that feels so rare from her. Even with the musical sound, I can see the hint of red in her eyes.

"Well, then that's not an impossible bar to reach, don't throw up on the judges."

"Yay," I mock. "How can I go wrong?"

I drown my coffee in milk. I want the caffeine, not the taste. When I take a sip the warm vanilla liquid rushes through me. I look at the refrigerator but have a feeling that I won't be able to eat anything for the whole day with a knot in my stomach. A car horn blares outside and my mother smiles at me, knowing who the culprit is. She tucks a strand of unruly black curl behind my ear.

"You can do this," she says.

I let out a breath, savoring her words. "Thanks."

Dumping my mug into the sink, I head towards the front doors. As I pass the living room, I hesitate. On the coffee table is the family album laying open and an empty wine glass sitting beside it. On the floor is a box of tissues. I look back at the kitchen, heart heavy.

"I love you," I call out.

"Love you too," my mom says, her voice a little choked.

Before I can think of hurrying back to her and hugging her, I hear another noisy honk. I gather up my backpack and gym bag and leave the house. Waiting on the curb is a yellow jeep. Tori stands on the driver's seat, half of her body appearing out of the top of the jeep.

"Lee! Are you ready to become a cheerleader?!" She asks, throwing her fists into the air in a typical cheer routine motion.

I roll my eyes but laugh, her wide grin and cheery blue eyes lightening the ache in my chest.

"I didn't hear you," she says. "Are you ready to become a cheerleader?"

I round the car and toss my bags into the back.

"I'm not sure," I say.

Before I can get in, Tori holds up her hand, the happiness gone from her round face.

"Stop, I did not work all summer with you so that you can now doubt yourself. You can not enter this car if you are going to be pessimistic." She waves her hands in an arc. "This is a positive thoughts only car."

Struggling against another eye roll, I pretend to take my negative thoughts out of my head and drop them onto the concrete. Tori beams and I climb into the car. The engine rumbles to life and she drives off, passing quaint two-story house in pastel hues and trim lawns.

"Lee," Tori says, the wind whipping her blonde ponytail all around. "I don't understand how you are not more excited about today? We are finally making our nine-year-old selves proud."

"Yes," I say. "It's only taken us seven years to get to this point.

"I'm serious, this is a big deal. We've wanted this for so long."

"You remember that one of our other dreams in third grade was to each marry a prince, right?"

"That will come later."

I laugh and shake my head amazed at the fact that she can act so calm while I don't know how I'll make it through this day. I stare out at the flashing world, gnawing on my lip as I mull over of the coming tryouts.

"Hey," Tori says, slapping my arm. "Don't stress out on me. We're ready. I didn't give up going the pool and ogling guys so you could think about backing out."

"I'm not backing out."

"No, you're just making yourself nervous by overthinking like you always do. Stop it."

"I can't help it, it's all I can think about."

Tori grins. "Then I have something that will distract you. News is that Jacob Alvarez is transferring to our school."

I scrunch up my face. "Yup, not distracting enough. I have no idea who Jacob is."

Which is only half true, I vaguely remember Tori showing me photos of someone by that name a couple of weeks ago.

"Oh, you sad sad little bookworm. Mr. Hot Stuff or also known as Jacob Alvarez is God's gift to us. Tall, dark, and handsome is his middle name."

"Weird middle name."

"Just wait until you see him."

"Why did he transfer to our school?"

"Got into too many fights."

"Oh, handsome and has anger issues, yeah I'll pass."

Tori shakes her head. "Why did I get linked with a completely bookish, hermit of a friend?"

"I think it was because you asked to borrow my red marker and I gave you a blue instead."

"You're right, I was doomed to like you for your oddness and complete lack of listening abilities."

When I laugh, she's quick to join and I'm grateful since she has helped me forget about the tryouts.

At the school, Tori swings the jeep into a parking space and I jump out, collecting my backpack. As we walk towards the main doors, she loops her arm with me. I stop as we are about to enter the crowd and loud hallways.

"I forgot my gym bag," I say, pulling away.

As I take a step back, the bell rings.

"You can't be late for history, I'll see you later," I say.

Tori gives a peppy 'Go Marlee go!' cheer as I jog back to the jeep, smiling the whole way. Kneeling on the passenger seat, I reach back and yank my gym bag forward. I push the door behind me open again and hear a solid thunk along with a startled oof! Grimacing, I scramble out of the car to find a boy flat on his back on the concrete. I crouch down.

"I'm so sorry," I say. "Are you okay? I didn't know anyone was there."

Rubbing his forehead, the boy slowly sits up. When he opens his eyes, I freeze, realizing who I just hit with a door. Jacob's eyes are dark brown that they seem almost black. His face is made of strong edges, topped with wild curls.

"Mr. Hot Stuff," I breathe out.

Jacob gives me a half-smile. "Most people just know me by my first name, which is Jacob."

At his teasing tone, I think going to throw up.

**********************************************************************

Now! Keep going to understand why o made the changes I did!