Chapter 1
I woke up to my sister, Stacy, shaking me, saying it was time to get ready for school. I sat up and pulled on a crop top with skinny jeans.
I pulled my curly brown hair into pigtails, pulling a few strands down into the front to frame my face. I applied my makeup then went downstairs for breakfast.
Mom put a heaping plate in front of me, filling up the cup with orange juice. Personally, I love when Mom goes all out for meals. Ever since Dad left, she’s been getting better at making full meals for a family.
There were three of us kids, I’m the oldest. Thus, I get more food when it comes to dinner, though the younger ones get served first. Stacy wakes me up because she doesn’t want to eat by herself, but I don’t mind getting up earlier to enjoy the food Mom puts on the table.
I dig in, enjoying everything and finishing quickly. “May I have more orange juice?”
“Of course, sweetie.” Mom pours more into my glass, and I sip it while putting my backpack and stuff together. It’s my first day of Junior year, and I’m excited to see my friends again. I also can’t wait to meet the teachers.
I sent the daily snaps to my friends, putting on cute filters and smiling. I also updated my food blog with pictures of my breakfast, captioning it Movie Style. When my siblings were ready we got in the car and I dropped them off at school. I went in and found my friends, gossiping with them about the latest couples, what we were doing later, and updating each other on our lives since we hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks.
Kenna talked about how she got a job, so she wouldn’t be free all the time like she used to be, and Laila said she was getting a decrease in her allowance.
“They told me I have to work for it, which is kind of dumb because I don’t do anything wrong. What about you, Cherish?”
“Eh, nothing different.” I smile. “You guys look cute today.”
“Thanks! You do, too. First day of Junior year, gotta look good!”
I nod. “Definitely. So, does anyone know what’s for lunch today?”
“Seeing as it’s Tuesday,” Kenna trails off. “Probably tacos.”
“Ugh,” Laila groans. I groan inwardly. I’m a food lover, but school tacos? Bottom of the list.
“What a wonderful way to welcome us back to school.” I smile. “Makes me wish I packed.”
The others nod. “So, what do our schedules look like?” Laila pulls hers out. “I have a lot of Honors classes.”
“Same!” Kenna compares schedules with her while I pull mine out, and we’re in most of the same classes. We have lunch together, and that’s what matters.
We go to English together when the bell rings, and pick seats. The teacher comes in and does the usual introductory stuff, learning names and going over the curriculum.
My friends and I whisper about what we should do the next time Kenna is free, and we agree to go shopping and make friendship charms.
“It will be a blast,” Laila exclaims, hushing her whisper again before the teacher could look at us. Ms. Wilson continued to drone on about what our first book would be.
We receive a copy- issued from the library- and the first reading assignment. We were to choose a character and analyze them, and I felt like rolling my eyes.
These stupid assignments don’t do any good, and none of the characters are “relatable” for me to like. It’s whatever though.
Kenna and Laila look back at me, and I shake my head. Dumb books are all high schools are capable of distributing. I wrote my name on the top of the paper and skimmed the instructions.
Ms. Wilson said we had the rest of class to read, and we had to read the first few chapters before picking a character. “If no one piques your interest by then, I’ll give you another three chapters. But by then, the characters are developed and you should be able to analyze them.”
I open the book, pulling my phone out and putting it in the book and scrolling through Instagram. Skinny models and food tips flood my feed, and I save some recipes.
I love trying new foods, and I overall love eating. I’m lucky, though, barely gaining any weight when I eat. I’m not plus size, but I’m not super skinny either.
Kenna and Laila say I’m curvy, but without having the stomach of most curvy girls. I’m more flat-stomached, but like I said, not skinny.
I’ve been checked out a lot in public, guys my age can’t keep their eyes to themselves. I don’t mind, though, this body will get me a boyfriend someday.
I watch other girls as they either desperately try to lose weight or put on a couple pounds, and I wonder why people can’t be happy in their own bodies.
Granted, I wouldn’t want to be built like a Brontosaurus either. But if you have a pretty face, what’s the harm? Kenna and Laila are your average girls, skinny and pretty.
I can’t help but be glad that I’m not the “fat” friend, we don’t have one. I’m a little closer to 200 pounds than I’d like to be, but it’s nothing I’m ashamed of.
When the bell rings, I head to my next class with the girls. We’re super excited to be together, it seems we have at least one thing going for us Junior year!
“After school we should get some Chick-Fil-A. We could go to the mall and buy some new school clothes.” Kenna suggests.
“I would but my mom would kill me,” Laila smiles. “She just spent loads of money on trendy clothes because someone needs to look good when they go to school.”
“Gee, wonder who that is,” I joke. “On a serious note, we don’t have to buy anything, just looking is okay. Personally, I love window shopping.”
The two nod. “Sounds good. I might actually go then.” Laila smiles. “Besides, who says no to Chick-Fil-A?”
We sit through a boring math class where we’re reminded of the quadratic formula. “We’re going to learn a lot of formulas, some you might remember from middle school. I’ll give you a notecard, you will want to keep this because I will let you use it on quizzes.”
A large notecard is slammed onto my desk, and I eye it. It was lined on both sides, and there was plenty of room for all of the formulas.
“Think of it as a cheat sheet,” Mr. Lou was saying, passing out the notecards. Laila looked at me, raising an eyebrow. This is our ticket to pass Algebra II with flying colors.
I smirk, writing my name in the corner, giving it a boundary with a squiggly line. Mr. Lou passes out a paper, to remind us of what we were supposed to have done last year and it was supposed to help ease us into what we’d be doing this year.
I shoved the paper into my folder, getting up when the bell rang and heading to Science. School went by slowly, and the teachers were all bland. A few of them I’ve had before, but I was tired of the monotony of the first day at school.
Lunch was no better, as I mentioned earlier. Tacos on Tuesday- how original!- and the welcome back lunch? Nasty. We ate the tacos, though, since it was all that was offered, and we sat in the courtyard.
It was refreshing to be outside, and Laila told us all about how her old friends were dating and cheating on each other at the same time. “If you’re unhappy, just leave, right?”
We nod. “That’s stupid, are they both that dumb?”
“Oh yeah. So in a sense they’re perfect for each other.”
“I could never. I mean cheating is wrong and all but, like, just break up.” Kenna shakes her head. “Are you talking about Marilyn and Hayden?”
Laila nods.
“Oh my God, I’ve seen them with other people! I never see them together.” I’ve only ever seen Marilyn with her secondary boyfriend, Mason, and Hayden is only ever spotted with Lily.
“Maybe they aren’t really dating and they’re just really close friends, but I don’t know.”
I shrug. “Either way, they’re both stupid. I hope they’re not actually dating because they’re only ruining their names.”
“People are already speculating them to be together, it’s too late to change anything now. They’ve already ruined their names.”
I groan. “I feel a little bit bad for them, but at the same time they’re doing it to themselves.”
“Hey, people are always gonna talk,” Laila smiles. “Either way, I think they should just break up, they’re being stupid by staying together.”
The bell rings, and the rest of the day is boring. Unfortunately, the other two are in choir. I’m stuck in Art by myself, but that’s okay. It lets me sit in peace with my thoughts.
At home, Mom asked how our days were. I tell her all about mine, telling her about Marilyn and Hayden’s drama.
Mom listens carefully before saying I should focus on finding a boyfriend for myself before getting involved with other people’s love lives.
I suppose she’s right, but none of the boys appeal to me. I sit picking through my food as she listens to my siblings next. Of course my sister had the most adventurous day, having met all these people and done all these things and blah blah blah. My little brother shrugged and said it was normal, nothing to brag about.
He’s not wrong, it’s only the first day of school.
Sometimes conversation is awkward in our house. Dad always had something fun to talk about, but Mom struggled a lot. She tried asking questions but it felt like forced conversation.
“Are any of you guys trying out for any clubs or anything? I don’t mind paying the participation fee.”
“I could try out for cheerleading,” Stacy says. I’m a cheerleader (who would’ve guessed?) and I felt a pang of annoyance. Of course she would want to be exactly like me.
“I don’t think you’d have a lot of fun. Have you not seen the cheers?” I try to deter her.
“I have. They look fun enough. I think I’ll really like cheering. How come you don’t want me on the squad?”
“It’s not that I don’t want you on the squad,” I smiled at her. “I just wouldn’t want you to waste your time.”
“It’d be fine,” Mom interjects. “Honey, if you want to go for it, go for it.”
Stacy smiles. “I’ll try out tomorrow! Careful, Cherish, I might steal your spot!”
I roll my eyes. “Okay then.”
Gavin excuses himself. Being the youngest and the only boy has really taken its toll on him. Now he’s expected to be the man of the house, but he’s only in middle school. It’s unrealistic for people to demand that of him, and it’s not very fair when they ask, “Have you been taking care of them girls?”
He nods, but he hasn’t. Not yet, but it’s not his job. He shouldn’t have to make sure we’re fed and happy. He can comfort us, but he needs comforting, too.
Mom was doing a good job of moving on, anyway. She hadn’t brought any other men into our lives and I don’t think she was talking to anyone but she was active in our lives.
I know some moms go into some sort of depression, hiding in their rooms with the blinds drawn and the kids in pain. They remove themselves from reality- disassociate- and their kids grow to resent them.
I was lucky my mom was resilient. I can only wish Dad were here, too. He left one night out of the blue, a coworker of his having him distracted while he was with us.
Some nights he wouldn’t come home, and Mom had gotten fed up with it, forcing him to admit he’d been cheating and in love with someone else. He said he couldn’t stand the brats he had for our family, and he wanted something better.
So he packed a suitcase- one suitcase was all it took- and left. Never looking back. They say you don’t know what you had until it’s gone, but I think that means other things. I never realized how little Dad was in our lives, and I wished there were more memories for me to share about him.
Instead, the clearest memory is of him leaving that fateful night. I can only be glad all three of us kids understand the concept of divorce, and we all know why Dad left.
Well, what he said was the problem.
But we’ll never really know what the final straw was. Was it us? Mom? Something wrong with him? So instead we moved on, forgetting we had a dad in the first place.
Gavin has accepted his fate as the only male in the house and we support him as best as we can, but I’m sure he gets lonely sometimes.
Mom lets him have his friends over pretty much whenever he wants, since he doesn’t have us the way he would another guy. Guys get each other, I guess.
When I finish eating, I excuse myself, heading upstairs and hearing Gavin playing a game with one of his friends.
Sometimes I think we should all get therapy, we’re all broken and we should admit it, but then I remember it’s expensive and they’re paid to listen. They don’t actually care- they don’t go home and face your demons, you do.
I make my way back to my room, sitting on my bed and opening up the picture album Mom had made when she and Dad were younger, when I was a little baby and before I was even thought of. It’s one of those things first-time parents do, but then they realize it’s stupid and they learn to go with the flow.
I flip through the pictures, I look a lot like him. I can only wish he had been different. It’s unfair of him to have left us like that, but we’re doing better than ever- without him.
