Our Guide.

On August third, I woke up to my phone blaring You Me At Six. I smile, because that's an instant sign it's going to be a good day. That's why I always set it for my alarm.

It's the first day of school, senior year. It's sort of a big deal, if you were wondering. For me, at least. I survive this year with flying colors- I'm sort of in National Honors society, not to brag -and then my parents will pay for my education, wherever I want to go. That's right. They're well off. Dad's a Lawyer, mom comes from old money. Again, not trying to brag.

I get up at six-thirty, just a little earlier than my usual routine because I want to lay for a long time in the shower. Which is exactly what I do as I roll out of bed. I probably lay in there for about twenty minutes, and yes, I do mean lay. My shower is pretty big, with one of those seats that are connected to the floor of the shower. I always tilt the two shower heads in that direction and just sit there.

When that's over with, I get out of the shower and towel-dry my hair, refusing to get dressed. I always leave that for the last possible minute. I hate being dressed. I'd rather just go naked.

It's when I'm straightening my long, red hair, that my i-Phone goes off. Pausing, I wonder who it could be, and why they were even texting me this earlier, but then I realize it's my brother, Oliver. I can't help but smile.

Hey bro. Mom give you those letters?

I chuckle before texting him back yes, and that I liked them, and I'll read them, but not all at the same time. I told him I'd call when school was over and we'd talk more about it, too.

Allow me to explain, considering you guys are probably confused. Oliver is my older brother, and when I say older, I mean older. He's thirty-six. Yeah, eighteen years older than me. Mom and Dad never wanted another kid, but then Mom got pregnant when Oli was about to be a senior, and they knew they'd take in another baby easily. I don't get angry or anything just because I was so obviously unplanned, because I know my parents love me. And I also know I'm their favorite; it's obvious.

The thing is, when Oli was a senior and he found out about me, he started writing these letters. I never knew about them until yesterday, when mom handed me two spiral notebooks full of letters to baby growing in my mother's belly then to baby bro and eventually to Sam. Apparently they are just snippets of advice, some memories of his. Mom told me it told me how to survive my senior year of high school, which is why she didn't give it to me until last night. They'd never read them, her or my dad. They said it was private, and for my eyes only.

So far, they were going good. I just wonder if he's going to get more involved in the sex subject. I'm just saying, he was high school sweethearts with Charlie, and they're married now. I'm sure they had fun back then. Maybe he'll give me advice on that!

So there you have it. The weird thing my brother eighteen-years older than me did. But I sort of love it- who knows, maybe it will help me in the future.

At some point, when I'm standing in the middle of my room at around seven-twenty, still in my towel and a toothbrush in my hand, my bedroom door busts open.

I'm not surprised, in all honesty. It's exactly something my best friend would do. He practically lives here, anyway. His parents are working twenty-four-seven. He says financial situations aren't the best, and his parents are doing the best they can. I know them, and they're good people. It sucks that they have to work so much and so hard just to give Evan the lifestyle he has. I'm very fortunate when it comes to my parents. My dad may make big bucks, but he always puts my mom and I first, as well as his grandchildren, of course.

Evan's been my best friend since seventh grade. He ate lunch with me once because I was alone. That's always been his personality. He's probably the nicest guy in the whole world. He talks to everyone, even the people others dub 'weird.' He treates everyone like they're human beings, and I look up to him so much for it. I'm so glad I can call him my best friend.

He's pretty unique, to be perfectly honest. This last summer, I think he went crazy, because he literally dyed his hair green and blue. And continued doing so, because eventually his blonde hair started peaking through. His eyes were an insane blue, and he was pretty average in every other way. Around five-ten, average looks, except the freckles that painted across his cheekbones, but that's pretty much it.

Anyway, he's the one that slammed open my door this morning. He wore bright red skinny jeans and a black button-down, his green hair straightened and teased. He's such a girl it's not funny. It's weird because he doesn't even seem fazed by the fact that I'm only in a towel. He's probably not.

"Hey big boy," he jokes, grinning widely.

I chuckle, crossing the room to my bathroom. I can hear Evan jump on my bed. It's a pretty cool bed, if I'm being honest. Round and everything. Just saying.

I spit all my toothpaste out and wash the taste out. After gurling- my teeth aren't perfect by default -I sigh loudly. "You excited?" I ask.

I walk out into my room, eyes raise. Evan smirks before shruging. I pick out a clean pair of boxers, drop the towel right there, and slip them on. Evan doesn't even say anything; it's not new, in all honesty. I could care less if he sees me naked. We aren't best friends for nothing.

"It's senior year," I clarify, yelling over my shoulder as I step into my walk-in-closet. Honestly, it's not all that exciting. "You have to be excited for your senior year," I say more quietly now that Evan has come to stand in the doorway. I flash him a smile as I hunt for something to wear.

"I am excited," he says quickly, a sad smiling placing itself on his lips. "I just don't want to grow up. I want...I want to stay here." He frowns, looking away.

I look up at him from the clothes I'd just plucked from their hangers. At first, I'm not sure what to say. He's getting pretty deep into this conversation, and I was only sort of kidding. I mean, yeah, I agree with him. I don't really want to grow up either; what am I going to do when I move out of my parents' house? They provided me with everything, and as I've said before, I'm grateful. I'm so happy that I've been blessed with such amazing parents that love me, and care about me, and give me things. So no, I don't want to have to grow up and leave all that behind. So I understand what he's saying, I just never thought about it until now.

"Me too," I say quietly, looking away from him as I slip on a long-sleeved Affliction shirt. I smile at him, and hug him quickly once I reach the doorway. Evan laughs, patting my back before pulling away. I slip on a pair of jeans and then my Vans.

"Do you know if my mom's making breakfast?" I ask, and Evan just shrugs, flipping through my beanies until he finds a red one. He grins at me as he puts it on. I roll my eyes. "Let's go find out."

Evan grins and runs out of my room, me following quickly behind him. We laugh the whole way down the stairs, through the sitting room, and into the kitchen. My mom's in there, a crooked smile on her face as she rolls her eyes at us. Evan quickly ran to her and hugged her, mom just laughing at him.

"Did you make any breakfast?" I ask, going to the fridge and getting out some orange juice.

"Of course," she replies, smiling widely, and I can't help but chuckle.

And now that I'm thinking about it, Evan's right. Senior year is scary. Growing up is scary. Thinking about this being my last year in this town, with these people, with my parents, it's scary. At least I know I'll have Evan even after graduation; I'm pretty sure we're gonig to go to the same college, probably get a dorm together and everything. That's always been my plan, anyway. We haven't actually talked about it. But that doesn't stop it from being scary.

I sort of wish I was Peter Pan, and I could just fly off to Never Never Land and never have to grow up.