Something Beautiful.

We arrive in Comfort, Maine late Saturday night. It's actually nearly Sunday morning, but that doesn't stop our parents from excitedly showing up around and telling us who's room is who's. It was the first time Nick or I had seen the house. Mom and Dad just paid movers and came here themselves, leaving us to pack up things in the flat and then clean up.

My room was on the top floor, Nick's right across the hallway, and then we have a pretty big bathroom to share. The whole downstairs is pretty much Mom's space, being the master bedroom, living room, and then the giant kitchen. I knew she'd have fun in that part of the house.

We had a large house, at least it was a little bigger than our old flat in the city. The wood was painted a brown and the shutters a deep green, and the grass was freshly cut along with newly planted flowers. Mom always liked having a place that looked nice.

We slept on the matresses that were just stacked on the floor. On Sunday I didn't wake up until around noon and even then, Nick didn't wake up until around two. Mom had disappeared at that time in the little office Dad set up for her and wrote, leaving Nick and I to take care of our rooms.

First we went up to my room and set up the bedframe, which is a lot harder than you'd think, and then we put the matress on and then put all the drawers back on my dresser, and he even helped me unpack all my clothes. I had a lot, but I don't ever wear them anymore.

All kinds of skinny-jeans and band t-shirts, and v-necks that I liked to wear with sweaters or cardigans, and even button-downs. I used to love looking good when I went to school, I worked hard in my appearence and now, I could care less. Big hoodies, all the time, unless I'm home. If my parents are around, I'll wear long-sleeved shirts, and if they aren't and it's just Nick and I, I may wear a short-sleeved shirt, but only around him. I always wear jeans and more than half the time, I'll wear beanies because it helps cover my face more.

I don't...I'm not comfortable in my body. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable in my body, no matter how hard Nick tries for me to be. Maybe that makes me a girl, or maybe that just makes me insecure, either way, it doesn't matter. I'm always going to be uncomfortable in my own skin.

After my room, which we finished around six that night, we fixed up Nick's room. His was a lot easier, believe me, considering he didn't actually have a bedframe, just a stand, and then he has ten times less clothes than I do. That's another aspect that I'm like a girl; or at least I used to be. Mom always liked buying me clothes more than Nick because I had style and he liked t-shirts and basketball shorts.

We finished his room around nine and were pretty tired, so we sat on the couch and watched re-runs of Fringe. We didn't speak but then again, we never do. We just sat quietly and munched on the pizza Mom cooked for dinner earlier, a bottle of Coke in his hand and a glass of tea in mine.

Nick is the best big brother I ever could have asked for, but you already know that. I can't stress what he means to me. He's my hero for definite, and the guy I look up. This may sound crazy considering he's only a year and a half older than me, but when I grow up, I want to be like Nick.

It's that sort of relationship.

I doubt I'll ever be anything like Nick. For one, he's a basketball star and a total ladies man. His charming smile has girls swooning for him in seconds and his guy-ish personality has him friends in a heartbeat. He will never worry about his outward appearence because he could care less what anyone thinks of him, and he doesn't have to worry anyway considering he's all lean muscle.

I used to be that way. Not caring what anyone thinks of me, I mean. I like to think of that as the naive Noah and this is the smart Noah. Don't get involved with anyone and you don't have to worry about getting hurt.

Simple as that.

"I took Choir," Nick says. It's the first thing he's said to me since we sat down.

I look over at him slowly from under my caccoon of blankets. I can't help but blink and do a double take. Did he just say he took Choir? Of all the sixteen years- seventeen in December -that I have known that boy, he has never been able to sing on-key a day in his existence. Singing was always my thing, my talent, but I gave that up along with my dignity nearly a year ago. Sure, I sing when no one else is around, but that's a private thing.

"I thought we'd take it together," he says, looking away. He begins to twiddle this thumbs and I have to bite my lip to stop from snapping at him for making such a stupid decision. "Y'know, you can start singing again and it'd be good for you. I just thought it'd be easier if I was there."

"I took French one," I whisper, looking away from my brother and back at the T.V. Suddenly, the science fiction isn't exactly interesting. "Sorry."

Nick looks at me like I'm crazy and makes a noise in the back of his throat. "You didn't- You didn't take Choir? Noah, you've always been in Choir, even when you were in third grade you've loved it! How can you not be in it?"

"Had to take a foreign langauge," I use as my excuse, refusing to make eye contact and see how disappointed in me he is.

"That's bullshit and you know it," he whispers lowly, leaning towards me from his side of the couch. I send him a glare but he ignores it like always. "You could have taken French rather than that Animal Science or whatever shit class you signed up for. The Noah I know would have found a way to still sing."

"Well I'm not the same Noah anymore," I say the loudest yet, which really still isn't that loud, and I turn to glare at him harshly. Nick blinks his eyes- the same exact color as my own -and shakes his head stubbornly.

"That's crap," he whispers, leaning further still and checking over the back of the couch that neither of our parents have magically appeared to listen in on our little secrets. "You're still the same exact person, the old Noah hasn't gone anywhere and I know for a fact that my little brother still loves to sing. Bud, you're already half way to being better. We've talked about this and-"

"What if I like the way I am now?" I hiss, throwing the blankets off me and standing up. "I don't need you to tell me how much you hate me, Nick. I'm perfectly content with the way I am now and yeah, maybe you stopped me from doing," I hesitate, lowering my voice, "it, but you can't fix me if there's nothing to be fixed. I'm going to bed, I'll see you in the morning."

"Noah, don't, I didn't mean-"

"I'll wake you up at seven," I say as a goodbye, walking past him and towards the stairs. I can hear Nick sigh from here and can invision his frown in my head. It causes my mood to lower but I refuse to go back there and let him apologize and pretend none of that happened.

I wouldn't speak like that to anyone. I would never snap or have a rude tone with either of my parents, or my teachers, or even my friends- although I don't really have any friends. Nick is the only person that I can get angry with because I know in the end he won't be upset. He'll be happy that I'm 'coming out of my shell.' Which is a bunch of bull, if you ask me.

There isn't a shell. There's just me.
~

The next morning, I stand in front of the mirror in mine and Nick's shared bathroom. I just took a shower and have a towel wrapped around my waist, and the edges of the glass is foggy, but I can still see myself perfectly.

My scars are still there. It's like I expect to go to bed and this all be some dream; some terrible nightmare but it's not. This is reality whether I like it or not. I am this ugly person, with disgusting scars on my right side and gorgeous, little neat scars on my left. There is nothing attractive about my body, or the way it looks, or the way it feels. I am rough and callused and oh-so very ugly.

I close my eyes and shake my head, placing my hands on my face to cover my eyes. I take a deep breath and when I exhale, all the negative thoughts go with it so I'm standing, naked and exposed in front of a mirror that loves to point out my flaws.

I escape through the hallway and back to my room unseen. Not that I expected my parents to come upstairs and check on me. They stopped doing that ages ago.

It's my first day at Comfort High School. It's the second week in September, meaning they've been in school around three weeks, and I'll be the new, fresh meat they've got to feed on. I am so excited and please note the sarcasm here. Hopefully though when they realize I'm not here to make friends and get all buddy-buddy, they'll leave me alone and flock to Nick. He likes attention; I loath it.

I'm a junior this year. When I stopped going to public school after everything that happened, my mom signed me up for online homeschooling, so I didn't get held back. I was able to move on to my next grade and am that much closer to graduating. I don't even know if I want to go to college, though. That involves a whole lot of people and crowds.

I'm not to good with either of those.

I slip on some boxer-briefs and then a large t-shirt, which actually used to be Nick's. He left it in my room once and I guess I just adopted it. Call that weird, I could care less. It's not like he missed one more t-shirt.

I decide to just towel-dry my hair and let it do what it wants to do. It's naturally pretty straight so I don't have an afro to worry about or anything. I slip on a pair of jeans which is followed up by a giant hoodie. It's purple and has the letters NYC plastered across the front in white letters. The sleeves pass my fingers by about four inches and it drops about half way down my thigh.

Do I look stupid?

You bet.

But at least it keeps me hidden.

I sigh and decide to slip on a grey beanie, which is a little oversized and falls over my ears, but I don't mind much. I do not bother checking myself in the mirror when I leave my room. I'd rather not see how terrible I look or how stupid. I could care less what people think of me because this is what I'm comfortable in.

When I walk towards the stairs, I bang on Nick's door and from inside he yells that he's almost ready. I can't help but smile and know that our fight is forgotten about, if you'd even call it that. It happens more than you'd think. Nick hits a little closer to home than I find comfortable and then I split with a snide comment. I'm lucky he puts up with my shit all the time.

"Well good morning, sunshine," Mom says as soon as I enter the kitchen. She's wearing her pj's still, which is really just a tanktop and some shorts, and she even has a little apron on. I raise a brow at her attire and she giggles. "I thought it made me look very mom-ish!" I laugh and shake my head, sitting at the round, kitchen table. Our dinning room hasn't been set up yet. "I made you a cheese omlet, I hope that's okay."

"Sounds good," I whisper, watching as she places it in front of me and smiles tenderly. She hovers and I look at her oddly but she dismisses it with a wave of her hand.

"Honey, why don't you wear something more...presentable for your first day?" She asks softly.

My body tenses as I my fork stops mid air. I hadn't expected her to ask me that. Even after all these changes her nor my father had really mentioned anything about it. Sure, they asked if I needed to see a therapist and while I did for a little bit, I quickly stopped. They even asked if I wanted antidepressants but I hadn't. I'm not depressed. I'm just traumatized.

"Never mind," she says quickly, turning and I can picture her scolding herself. I smile weakly but don't say anything; I know she has a hard time with the whole, I have a damaged son thing, so I try to take it as easy on her as I can.

"Whoa where's my food!" Nick demands as he enters the room, laughing loudly as Mom scoffs at him.

I smile at my brother. He looks very handsome, like he really tried looking good for his first day. He's wearing a pair of fitted jeans and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up. His dark hair is in a fohawk and clearly this is one of the five days of the whole school year in which my brother will try in his appearance.

"I made you the same as your brother, cool your jets," Mom says, smiling as Nick takes the seat beside me and instantly digs into his eggs.

"Did you just tell me to cool my jets?" Mom gives him a look and Nick grins with egg stuck in his teeth. I place a hand over my mouth in order to hide my smile. "Where's Dad?"

"He had to go into work," she sighs, walking over to the stove to probably clean off the skillet. I think I look more like Mom than Nick does, but maybe that's just becaue I have a girlish build. I only stand at five-five and have a bigger butt than most men, unfortunately, although it's kind of a good thing considering some guys like that. Not that I'll ever date anyone. For one, I'm not out, and two, dating means trusting.

Incase you haven't realized, I'm not good with that.

I finish off my omlet and take my plate to the sink. Nick thrusts his at me as soon as I stand and I roll my eyes but take it anyway. After cleaning them off and sticking them in the dishwasher, Nick annouces that we better head off. Apparently our guides were supposed to meet us in the front office five minutes before the bell.

I bite my lip as Mom fusses over us, straightening out Nick's shirt and then fixing my beanie over my forehead. She cups my face and looks at me; she's only about two inches shorter than me, unfortunately, but I don't mind it much. I smile at her and lean forward to kiss her cheek and she sniffes, getting a little more emotional that what's necessary.

"Be safe," she whispers, hugging me and then Nick. As soon as she backs up, one of my hands reach up to cover the lower half of my face out of instinct and she smiles sadly at me. "Are you sure you don't need me to go with you?"

"Oh god," Nick groans, opening the door and letting me through first. "We're positive we don't need you there."

"Oh, have a good day!" She calls but Nick shuts the door, looking at me and rolling his eyes. I try to hide my giggle but it comes out anyway. Again, I was cursed with another girlish antic: Giggling.

Biting my lip, I turn and look at my surroundings. I haven't been out of the house since we got here and honestly, I'm surprised. There's two kids, probably in middle school, who pass us on their bikes and one or two cars pass as well, but other than that, this place is quiet. Peaceful. So unlike the city in so many ways. It's beautiful, really, like a scene from a magazine. Main Street is a few blocks down from this neighborhood and just beyond that, the high school where I would have to go to die. Metophorically, of course.

"Are you ready?" Nick asks me quietly, stepping close to me so that I can feel his body, almost. I nod slowly and keep my hand to my mouth. "It's different than the city," he comments, leading the way to his little car.

I clear my throat and remove my hand so I can say, "Better," and Nick grins back at me, his eyes shinning a little bit.

I advert my gaze and get in the passenger seat, clicking the seatbelt and watching my brother do the same. He sighs loudly and turns the radio on low, backing out of our driveway and heading towards the school. We'll be about fifteen minutes early, but he says that it would be okay. Apparently most people do that their first day.

"Are you scared?" He asks me as we get closer and closer to the place that might just be my death.

I bite my lip behind my hand and look out the car window. There's more people around now, but that's just because they're waiting for the bell to ring. Nick parks towards the back and turns his car off, turning towards me and waiting for my answer.

I let my hand fall from my face as I turn towards him. "Uh, yeah, I'm pretty scared. But I mean, aren't most people their first day?"

He gives me a pointed look. "It's different with you, No."

I shrug, tugging on the ends of my beanie. "Y-You'll be close, right? I-I won't have to face it without you?" This, I whisper, suddenly afraid that my big brother is going to admit that I really do get on his nerves and I need to learn to be independent.

It's a stupid thought, though, because as soon as the words are out of my mouth Nick is reassuring me. "Of course! I mean, we'll be separated because of our classes, but as soon as I find out your schedule and the school, Nos, I'll find you between classes and we have the same lunch so you can sit with me. I'll be right there, bud, I promise."

I nod, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking my head as I try to talk some sense into me. What was I thinking? Of course Nick will be here for me. He's always been here for me.

I whisper, "Alright, then I'm ready."

"Let's go," Nick says, opening his car door and waiting until I do the same before he locks the car behind us.

We meet at the front of the car and he lets me get as close to him as possible, without seeming odd. One of my hands naturally comes to cover the lower half of my face again as people begin to look over at us. My cheeks heat up and my palms sweat but I tell myself that I am safe and none of them are going to attack me. I’m safe.

Taking deep breaths, I follow close behind my brother, who has a stone-y face and keeps looking ahead. I’m practically his shadow as we enter the school and then the office, eyes following us the entire way. I tell myself they’re only looking at Nick because he’s such an attractive new kid, but I know they’re probably staring at the small boy stuck to his side and who’s wearing a hoodie five sizes too large. I shake my head as my heart starts beating really quick and tell myself I’m okay. Nick is right here, no one could hurt me with him so close.

“Hi,” Nick says to the woman behind the office desk. She’s in her mid-fifties and smiles cheerily once she sees us, giving me a weird look but tries to cover it up quickly. “We’re the new students you’ve probably heard about. I’m Nick White and this is my brother Noah.”

“Yes,” she says, smiling widely as she hands over two pieces of paper to my brother. “Your parents already came and registered you as I’m sure you know. We’ve got two guides coming to show you around for your first day, just so you don’t get lost or anything. Yours, Nick, is Shane who is just a wonderful student; he’s a senior as well, and yours, Noah, is a girl named Madison. She’s a junior.”

“Thank you,” Nick says politely, causing her to look at me again as I don’t answer. I just turn and take my schedule away from Nick, looking down at it. It’s all the normal classes, like English and Algebra two, but then just after lunch I have French one and after that the Animal Science class Nick mentioned last night. I really just took it because I had no other options; no way was I taking Choir again.

“I have Choir second period,” Nick says, looking from his paper to mine. I shrug my shoulders and adjust the strap of my backpack. “I can’t believe you’re gonna leave me on my own. I’m gonna die in there, Noah!”

I smile at him and quickly place a hand over my mouth, ducking my head down and hoping no one noticed. Even though Nick’s the only person around, I still can’t be too safe.

The office door opens and I look over to see a girl about my age. She’s also maybe just a hair shorter than me. Her cheeks are rosy and round, her hair an unruly, frizzy mess that I seriously wonder how she could go out in public with, and her eyes are a lovely shade of green. She smiles at me with a mouth full of neon-braces and I can already tell I’m not going to like my guide at all.

“Hi,” she says, and I’m thrown off by her voice. I half expected her to scream it at me, like one of those people who are desperate for attention and trying to show just how different they are from the rest of the world when in reality, they’re exactly like the rest of them. Rather, she had a soft voice, raspy like she’d been sleeping, and gentle as if she’s speaking to a delicate child. Her smile becomes softer the closer she gets and Nick is looking at her oddly. I am too, though.

She’s looks so stereotypical. She has a pale-pink pair of skinny jeans on and a white blouse, her frizzy hair half pulled from her face, no make-up, and TOMS adorning her feet. Yet I can already tell by that one word that she’s different than most other people who look like her.

“I’m Madison,” she says as she comes to a stop, looking from me to my brother. “I’m going to guess you’re Noah,” she says, eyeing me. “You look like the younger one anyway.” I nod, choosing not to answer, and she smiles at me again. “I’m your guide. We can go now if you’d like.”

I look to Nick, my eyes suddenly wide and he looks from my tour guide to me. He bites his lip and reaches a hand out, squeezing my shoulder. He opens his mouth to speak but never has the chance.

“Hey, are you Nick?”

We both look towards Madison again, who’s no longer alone. She stands beside a tall boy, at least six inches taller than myself. He has dark hair that’s messy and curly around his ears, and a gorgeous shade of hazel eyes. His smile is to die for, his lips a soft pink and spread across perfectly white teeth. I feel my heart thump once painfully in my chest because he is seriously the cutest boy I have ever seen.

Don’t think like that, Noah, I scold myself.

My brother’s voice snaps me out of my daze. “Yeah, I’m Nick. Hang on, let me just say bye to my brother and we can get going.”

I look up at him as he looks down at me, once more biting his lip. He scratches the back of his neck and his cheeks tint a gentle pink. I smile at him, ducking my head down and before I lose my nerve, I hug him tightly. Nick hugs me back just as tight, squeezing my shoulders and letting out a big breath of air as he lets me go. He smiles sadly and I refuse to make eye contact as I motion for Madison to lead the way. She smiles at me, gives a glance to my brother and whoever his gorgeous guide is, and then opens the door with me following.

“I’ll see you at lunch, bud!” Nick calls. Had it been Mom or Dad who yelled after me like that, I’d have been so embarrassed, but it being Nick, I find comfort in the fact that he’s worried about me.

I’m worried about me, too.

“Are you excited for your first day?” Madison asks me, and I shrug my shoulders, uncomfortable with this stranger. Who knows what she could do to me, although my gut tells me she’s a trustworthy person. She smiles at me sadly and crosses her arms in front of her, looking down at her feet. “Man of few words?” I smile weakly and reach a hand up to cover my mouth, ducking my head down again. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind. I usually don’t talk a lot anyway.” I doubt that with the way she’s chatting me up now. “The only reason they had me give you the tour was because I’m number one in our grade.”

“Congrates,” I mumble lowly, thinking for a second that she didn’t hear me, but when she laughs humorlessly I know she does.

“Yeah, big deal it is. Look where it’s left me.” She gives me a look and stops outside a classroom. I come to a halt beside her, looking up through my long fringe and clutching onto my backpack straps for dear life. My heart is beating erratically and I feel like I’m going to faint. “Friendless and giving guides to new kids,” she says bitterly before giving me a half smile. “This is first period English.” She says, motioning towards the door, and I nod, walking in. She follows me and I figure we have the same period.

There’s already about ten kids in here and they all stare as I take a seat in the back, Madison following. I want to ask her why she’s bothering, ask her why she doesn’t sit with her friends, but then again I realize she just told me she was friendless, so maybe it makes sense if she sticks with the new kid. I don’t care as long as she doesn’t talk or ask why I keep covering my face, which is exactly what I do as soon as I take a seat.

I really hope I can make it through this day without Nick’s help; I’m already pissing my pants.