3: You don't exist

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I would bash myself in the head if it meant I didn't need to deal with the headache of my foster parents. They didn't notice I was gone. Well, that's what they told me, anyway. I would bet my life they did notice and just didn't care to go find me. It wasn't surprising, but it was still a bit hurtful.

At the moment, they were on my case about my school work. I had to admit, school was not my strong suit. At all. It was deathly boring, and if I found something boring, I learned nothing because I couldn't focus on it. So I had a difficult time paying attention in class. And homework... I tried my best, and I could usually do pretty well... if I actually remembered to do it. My problem was lack of memory, not lack of skill in that department.

So when they were annoyed about my grades, I could understand why. But there was one thing that really drove me crazy. They never said a word about my school work to me. Ever. That is, until I disappeared for a day in that stupid warehouse and couldn't do any homework. And just like that, they are lecturing me.

I sat in my room for hours working through stacks of homework I need to make up and catch up on. The only reason I had the work I missed yesterday was because of my friend Anne. She was nice enough to bring it over when I didn't show up at school. Lucky me.

So as I walked into the school the following day, I was tired. No, exhausted. And it didn't even have anything to do with being stuck in a warehouse. All I could see was words and lines. I've done too much homework. I need a break. A real one.

My thoughts were cut off as Anne ran up to me. "Rylee! There you are!"

I barely had time to look up before she was dragging me down the hall. "What? What's happening?"

"There is a test in Literature today, and I forgot to get you the study guide. So we're going to study before school starts."

I groaned, pulling us to a stop. "Anne, I appreciate it, but please no. I spent hours on homework yesterday and I'm about to die. I'll... get through Literature just fine, okay?"

Her hazel eyes narrowed at me. "Are you sure you just don't want to get out of studying?"

I snorted. "I do want to get out of studying. But it's for my health, I promise."

"Part of me doesn't believe you. I mean, you haven't told me where you were the other day, so who knows what else you're hiding from me." Anne gave me a sly look. She was baiting me. I took the bait anyway.

"I was trapped in the warehouse. There, I said it. And you can't guilt trip me into studying with you. Not going to happen, Hansen."

She stuck her tongue out at me. "I hate it when you call me by my last name, and you know it."

"And I hate it when you bait me, but here we are."

Anne laughed and threw her arm around my shoulders. It was easy for her since she was taller than me. "We're such nice friends to each other."

I looped my arm around her. "You got that right." We kept moving down the hall toward my locker. I needed to hang up my jacket.

"Hey, Rylee, you up for the race tomorrow?" Jackson, a guy with thick, dark hair called as we passed.

"I'm not racing tomorrow, but I will be there."

He grinned. "Good. I wouldn't want to leave you in my dust."

"Funny how you think you can beat me. You're an average driver at best." I retorted.

"Cute, Rylee. We'll just have to test it out next week."

"You're on."

Jackson threw me a confident smile as he strolled away.

Anne raised her eyebrows down at me. "You're still doing that street racing? It's so reckless."

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