ONE
IF SOMEONE asked me the one thing that I hated the most, I would have no hesitation.
Some people might respond with a more basic answer, such as social gatherings, or clowns, or that absolutely infuriating moment when your sock slips off your heel in a really tall boot.
My answer on the other hand, is a little more... broad.
I cannot stand change.
I despise the fact that my parents made us move from the busy city to a cottage in the middle of the woods, and that the whole dynamic of my family has changed now that my sister is gone. I even hate that I had to change into Mr Fissolo's calculus class because they no longer offered psychology third period at my school.
Ideally, everything in my life would remain the same and I would never have to stress about learning something new or worry about the uncertainty change brings; most of all, without change I am in control.
Unfortunately, that is not how life works.
A sudden pounding noise on my door jolts me out of my sleepy stupor, followed by a loud "Elodie! Get out of bed!", which quickly brings me back to reality.
The reality is that I hate change, but it seems to adore me.
And it has decided to directly target my sleeping schedule.
"We don't live in the city anymore, Elodie!" barks my mother, "You're going to be late for school!"
I groaned, my signal to my mother that I was awake (but certainly not happy about it) and then I kicked my blankets off of me, rolling over until I went tumbling to the floor. I can't exactly remember what happened in the time between me getting dressed and walking out the door, however, I made it to the car with all of my belongings in an acceptable outfit somewhat on time.
I consider that a win.
I slid into the passenger seat, barely having time to shut the door before my mother pulls out of the driveway. I resist the urge to make a snarky remark; she's been distant ever since... well, ever since the incident. Not physically, but mentally distant. The last three months I've been longing for a mother, however all I received was an emotionally detached shell of a woman.
"Where's dad?" I asked, having noticed the lack of a beat up silver minivan in our driveway.
My mother grips the steering wheel impossibly tighter, her knuckles turning white as she mumbles bitterly "Richard hasn't come home since yesterday morning."
I nodded, quickly looking away from my frightening mother. Instead, I chose to peer out at the passing trees.
It really shouldn't be a surprise to me, honestly. After... well, after the incident, my mother became a different person and in some ways, so did my father. Maybe not personality wise (like my mother), but his typical 9-5 job rapidly morphed into one with unknown hours. He works longer hours, so long they stretch into the early morning and half the time I don't see him anymore.
I guess everyone grieves in their own way.
"You really need to start getting up earlier." my mom states bitterly, "I'm done being your alarm clock, I won't always be here to make sure you're on time, you know."
Grieving also results in change.
And I hate change.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
"You have got to be kidding me!"
I sent Sierra a glare - a silent, stern look to kindly tell her to shut up.
She quickly sinks back into her seat, awkwardly taking a bit out of her sandwich while she waits a moment for the curious stares warranted by her loud outburst to disappear.
"Okay, my bad, but like, seriously!"
Alana (my other friend) rolled her eyes, most likely wondering how she managed to befriend someone so different from herself.
Sierra, Alana and I have been friends for years. Ever since Kindergarten, back when Alana and I were fighting over a hair tie and Sierra gave us each a bow from her long blonde pigtails.
Sierra Devlin has always been the happy-go-lucky sweetheart. Everyone loves the exuberant blonde, and although she can get a little loud and out of hand sometimes, she's still incredibly calm and mediates many heated arguments skillfully. Although she does well at settling arguments, she can be pretty passionate about her opinions.
Alana McClain on the other hand, is... in one word, trouble. She doesn't take shit from anyone, makes sure that her unapproachable aura is intact 100% of the time, and isn't afraid to say what is on her mind. However, something that she likes to keep a secret is that she's a bit of a science geek. Although she'd attack anyone who said so.
"I can't believe you think Talons is cooler than Sharkbite!" Sierra exclaims, thankfully quieter than the last time, "I mean, all she has is agility and glorified kitty claws! Not to mention, she's a villain!"
"Enhanced hearing."
Sierra pauses her rant, "What?"
"You forgot enhanced hearing."
I giggle silently as Sierra closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, almost inaudibly coughing a "Glorified cat," under her breath.
Alana takes offence, instantly sitting up in her seat as she begins her verbal attack.
"You think the swift badass in a black catsuit is stupid? What about the loser who grows a shark tale when you add water!"
Sierra gasps, "Sharkbite is a hero who can manipulate water! And grows a shark tale which helps him travel at lightning speed underwater!"
"He can't physically reach lightning speed with-"
"Oh you know what I mean!" Sierra yells, completely outraged.
She quickly hides her face in her hands as she realizes that she once again made a scene for everyone to stare.
See what I mean, she's passionate.
While she can get a little lost in the debate, Sierra knows when she needs to calm down.
"Okay, so they're both cool - even if Talons is a... villain." she says, pursing her lips at the word villain.
To ease a bit of the tension, I pitch in.
"Personally, I think Trident is pretty cool."
While the first thing you may think of is gum, I promise that this hero is much cooler than a sugary glob that gets stuck on everything.
"Oh god no, not the fire staff kid!"
I stare at Alana, my jaw dropped, "I though you out of everyone would appreciate the hero who beats people up with a trident made of fire!"
"You mean a giant fork that doesn't even hit people because fire isn't solid?"
I pout my bottom lip, "okay but like, he can throw it and light stuff on fire... and fly!"
He's also super attractive! Or well, at least I assume since his face is sort of covered by a mask... but he has the cutest mop of curls on his head that reminds me of-
"I hear he's also fireproof."
I subconsciously sit straighter, sweeping a portion of my hair behind my ear as I smile up at the most gorgeous human being I've ever laid eyes on.
"Hey, Jayden"
Jayden Callery. Big emerald green eyes, curly brown hair and the most attractive smile known to man kind... In short, he's a golden boy: excels academically and in sports, is admired by teachers and peers, and even though he's popular he still socializes with everyone - even the not-so-popular girls like me and my friends.
I realize that he's not alone, and quickly make it a point to greet his best friend as well, "Hello, Desmond."
Desmond Moore is... less popular than his closest friend. He's a quiet, awkward red head who is often questioned whether or not he's ill because of his flushed, sickly complexion. His response is always an uncomfortable "No, I'm just really, really pale."
"I uh- I actually go by Des, but like Desmond is fine too..."
I smile at his hesitancy, "I'll remember that for next time, Des."
When the conversation begins to calm down and come to an end, Jayden speaks up.
"Just heard you guys talking about Trident, and I had to come defend him," he says, winking at me.
Did Jayden Callery just wink at me?
This must be what it feels like to melt from the inside out.
"Uh, yeah!" I say before proceeding to giggle stupidly.
Stupid Elodie, stupid!
"Alright, well you girls enjoy your lunch!" he says, smiling widely before leaving to find a table for him and Des.
The moment he is out of earshot, Alana and Sierra instantly start giggling hysterically. It took me a few moments to realize that they were mocking me.
I gasp, hitting them both with some of my fries, "stop it!"
"Oh man," Alana says, sobering up from her laughing fit, "maybe we should invite Jayden to sit with us from now on, I could use some lunchtime entertainment like that on the daily."
Oddly enough, I am all for that idea and completely opposed at the same time.
"You'll have plenty of entertainment tonight, it's Wednesday!" exclaims Sierra happily.
Every Wednesday after school the three of us go to The Brew, a small board game café. It's a tradition that we've kept up for three years now, since we started high school.
"Maybe we should invite-"
"Don't even think about it!"
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
The old, beat up minivan makes its way around the corner, spewing black smoke out the tailpipe. I was glad school had been out for a few minutes, as the hoard has mostly dispersed, leaving very few people to witness me hopping into the grungy vehicle.
"Hey, dad!" I say, sliding into the passenger seat.
My father leans over, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to lock me in place while he gently rubs a fist on top of my head, "Ellie!" he cheers.
He turns in his seat, smiling at my friends, "Nice to see you two again, Sienna and Elena!"
I rolled my eyes, "Dad!"
"Oh, you know I'm just kidding. Sierra, Alana," he smiles at both girls respectively.
With that, he rips out of the parking lot, already headed towards our usual destination.
"How are you, Mr McCoy?"
My father gives Sierra a joking stink eye, "Now come on, I've told you girls a million times to call me Ricky or nothing at all!"
I can practically feel Alana's smirk on the back of my neck as she says, "Okay, we can start calling you Nothing At All if that's what you want."
My father waits until he's stuck at a red light to turn and give Alana a high five, mumbling something about "Being able to appreciate a good dad joke, even when it's targeted at him."
A few minutes later, Sierra and Alana have fallen into a discussion in the backseat, leaving me an opportunity to talk to my dad a little more privately. Not that there's anything I don't tell them, but my father might not want me to mention it while they are listening.
"So, mom says you never came home last night..." I trail off.
My dad sighs, clearly overtired.
It is only then did he let his cheerful exterior slip - only slightly, but still enough for me to notice the giant bags under his eyes, and the wisps of grey growing among his light brown hair. Even his brown eyes - which are identical to mine, aside from the ever present glimmer of exhaustion.
"I know, Ellie... I'm gonna start trying harder, I promise. But I had a breakthrough at the lab last night! This is important work..."
That is when Alana perks up, "The lab? What are you working on, Mr - uh, Ricky?"
"Well, in simple terms, I'm trying to create an artificial light source that is less harmful to humans than sources like ultraviolet and blue light radiation," he said, slowly pulling into the parking lot of The Brew, "It's proving to be pretty difficult."
Alana instantly starts grilling my father with excited questions, such as "How far along are you?" and "Have you managed to maintain a stable source?".
See, I told you, she's a science geek at heart.
"Alright, Lana, let's go," I say, sliding the back door open and yanking her out of the car. I expect her to come easy, however, she certainly puts up a fight - nothing can keep that girl away from science knowledge.
Sierra and I restrain her while my father drives off, chuckling behind the wheel.
Once he's out of view, she goes limp and turns to glare at me.
"You are so lucky that I don't have Jayden's number..."
And with that, she storms into the cafe.
