Totally Not Average

I walked home that day, feeling too lazy to ask anyone for a ride. Tricia and Sage had totally ditched me and asking Zach was not appealing. So there I was, my bag slung over my shoulder as I tried to near my house. With every step I took, it felt like I was taking a step back.

A car pulled up next to me and I ignored it, figuring it was some teenager or something. A car horn sounded and I jumped, startled. I turned around and spied a tuff of messy brown hair behind the steering wheel of a sleek, black Camaro.

“Get in.” The voice sounded.

I stopped and the car pulled up next to me. I stared at Alex, wondering what he was trying to do. I had noidea what I should say, or if I should get in. These were the types of situations I wasn’t prepared for, no matter how much therapy I took.

Alex, not noticing my musing, started getting impatient. “Look, this is an offer, a favor, so get in Mandy.”

“Mandy, huh?” I teased, smiling just a tad.

His brown eyes met mine and I stopped smiling immediately. There was something so serious in his eyes, something I’d never seen before. When I’d met him, in his eyes I recognized boredom, but the true heart of a troublemaker, and after too. But now, something changed. Something I didn’t want to mess with.

I shrugged and walked around the car, opening the door and getting in. The inside had black leather and the windows were tinted completely black. It was a pretty cool car, overall.

“What made you do this ‘favor’?” I asked, taking off my backpack and setting it on my feet.

Alex shrugged this time, his eyes not betraying any emotion. This was starting to annoy me; why couldn’t he be a normal person and let go of his emotions?

I pursed my lips and turned away from him, pretending to be engrossed with what was outside of my window.

“Where’s your house?” He asked stiffly.

“Cherry wood Lane, 116.” I replied, equally stiff.

My thoughts wandered back to school, going over and over my conversation with Zach, Tricia, and Sage’s reaction. When this thing was over, I was going to kill Zach for temporarily ruining my relationship with Sage.

The car suddenly stopped and I blinked, looking around. Peering through the dark windows, I could just barely make out my street, and sure enough, my house. It was two stories, kind of three if you count a special attic that I hung out in. It was painted a peachy color with white shutters and that typical white picket fence. A garden was in the front yard, made up with gardenias, red poppies, sunflowers, marigolds, and a lot of other colorful flowers.

“Thanks for the ride.” I said, opening my door and taking one foot out.

Alex put a hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me down and turning to face him. I gulped, wondering what this was about.

“Don’t hurt Zach. I meant it.”

“It wasn’t my idea, it was all Zach’s.” I rolled my eyes, “This is his way of getting Sage jealous so she’ll go out with him.”

“Then why did you do it?” Alex asked, his voice gentle.

“I didn’t have a choice.” I bit my lip, “Zach begged and I knew he loved Sage, just like she loves him.”

“You always have a choice.” He let go of my shoulder and I sat there, shocked at what he said.

I got out of his car and walked over to the sidewalk, watching as he drove away.

---

“Dad, I’m home!” I called out into the big house.

Nothing was my response so I figured Dad was out, doing some work or something. I took off my shoes and set them by the stairs, then walked up it, my hand trailing behind on the railing. When I reached the hallway, I had the weirdest sense of loneliness.

I shook off the feeling and concentrated at the feeling of cold wood beneath my feet, opening my bedroom door and stepping in. It was a dark red color, really popping against the light colors downstairs and outside. I wanted it to be different, for it to stand out. Ever since my Mom died, all I wanted to do was make the best of things.

Making the best of things was how I dealt with it, you know? While everyone around me was just...depressed and giving me "That Look," the one that shows everyone's pity and sadness towards you because your mom died. Aw, poor baby, Would follow it, too. I hated all those months, because I had been known as "The girl whose mother died," and that wasn't a good thing to be constantly remembered of.

I collapsed onto my bed, which was a light red color, with brown trimming the edges. A floral design covered it, something with vines, thorns, and roses. I looked up at the plain, white ceiling, bored as hell. I didn't know what to do, or where to start; for that instant.

I got up and walked over to my small desk; my computer and school stuff on it. I sat down at the table and looked through all my homework, feeling a weariness creep up on me. Next thing I knew, I was reliving memories that were too painful to bear.