Bonded by Blood - luvvlifeforever922 (best short novels of all time .txt) 📗

in the eye while she said these words and her expression never wavered so I knew she was saying the truth. It is so easy to tell when Annie is lying because she never looks me in the eye when she is lying and if she does look me in the eye she’ll start to laugh (one thing we have in common: it’s easy to tell when I am lying too because I do the same things.). So I know she means what she’s saying here.

“Ok then I believe you.” I looked at my watch 7:28 “Let’s go” I started pulling her through the halls. We reached the Main Office got our schedules from Mrs. Delucus and ran through the halls again to get to our first hour (which me and Annie have together) which happens to be English. It’s not that I love English, because I don’t, it’s just that I understand English because I am always reading so I end up being really good at that class. Annie, on the other hand, hated English – I always had to tutor her because if not she would fail – so when she saw where we were headed she groaned.

“I hate this class” she complained

“Annie how can you say that? You haven’t even been in there yet.”

“I haven’t but English is English whether it’s in junior year or senior year. It’s all the same to me, Katie. I still hate it”

At that moment we stopped walking because we were already in front of the door to the class. I turned to Annabelle.

“Behave” I hissed

She complied

We walked into the room and I was relieved to see there were still seats empty and the kids were still whispering to each other. That’s a good sigh. Means were not as late as we thought.

We took to available seats towards the back and waited for class to start.

While I waited I decided to look at my schedule. Annabelle did the same – she is technically older than me by, like, 3 minutes but she usually followed my footsteps mostly because I am a better influence – and I saw my schedule almost matched Annie.

It only almost matched because we had everything together except fourth hour and sixth hour – here, in this school, instead of calling it fourth period we called it fourth hour or sixth hour; I think it weird but whatever floats there boat I’m fine with .

The class passed by quickly so we were off to second hour. French. It wasn’t my first choice but it was Annabelle’s because she said ‘If we don’t get a lot of classes together at least you could hope we have those two together and because this way we can totally like learn French and go on that backpacking-across-Europe trip we have been dying to go to. And this way it will be like an end of high school trip’.

In truth I hadn’t been dying to go; she had, ever since freshman year but we just couldn’t do it then so she thinks now we can just learn French for one year and be good enough to talk to the people over there so we can go. Now she has gone crazy because first of all it is really hard to be an expert in French in one year and second I don’t even want to go backpacking across Europe, or take the French class. But she had said that if we toke French together she would let me pick the other elective. I choose piano because I really wanted to play when I was little but never asked for lessons so I thought why not now and also cause Annie doesn’t really like that class very much and I thought that just might be a little bonus for me.

French went by kind of fast and then it was time for math class. This year it was Calculus which I thought was better than last year – we had Trigonometry – until I walked in the room. The teacher, Mr. Collins, was so lame because instead of talking about what the class was going to be about this year he decided to just skip all that stuff and start class by writing problems on the board and asking who knew the answer. Of course nobody did so he started calling kids out and asking for the answer. He called on me once and I didn’t have the right answer and I thought I was going to crap my pants because of the look he gave me when I said the wrong answer.

But eventually that class passed by too and I said goodbye to Annie and we split of in different directions.

I was walking towards my fourth when I realized something.

This was a class I hated every year I got it and this year I wasn’t going to have Annabelle with me.

Gym. Ugh I hated that class.

Okay that is somewhat of a lie because I don’t hate the whole class. I don’t hate to do warm ups – sit ups, scouts’, pushups, ect – or track when we have to do it (though I sometimes I get a little sweaty). I just hated the sports the coach, Coach Duke, made us do. Basket, volleyball, tennis. Ugh. I hated it all.

But Annie had always been good at the athletic stuff so she had always been there for me, ever since the 8th grade when I developed the need to be helped, to block the pass or to not let myself be hit by rackets or catch me when I fell. Now she wasn’t here to do any of that.

I realized that when I had found this out that I had stopped walking so I started walking again.

I didn’t just hate sports for no reason. I wasn’t that unjust. I hated sports because I was severely uncoordinated for it. I hated how people reacted to my clumsiness whenever we played anything in gym. I hated, now more than ever, that my sister wasn’t by my side to walk with me through these gym doors that were right in front of me.

I took a deep breath and went inside to take a look at what was going to be my personal hell on earth this year.

My heels hit the hard wood floors with a loud clack and everyone in their seats, on the bleachers turned to look. Even the teacher.

That’s when I realized that the little epiphany I had had in the hall hadn’t been so little if I had been late to gym. It hadn’t and I was.

Fortunately the coach, Coach Duke, was the same the one from past years so he knew my coordination problems when it came to sports.

He turned to me and said “Nice of you to join us, Miss Marks”

“Hi Coach Duke,”

“Why don’t you take seat?” he asked

I nodded and look out at the bleachers to find an empty seat. I decided to sit all the way at the top of the bleachers next to a girl that was obviously new because she looked like nothing I had seen before.

She had pale blonde shoulder-length hair that was covered in curls. She had her head down so I couldn’t see her face but I could tell that her hair was so curly that it would have covered her face even if she would have had her head up.

When I took the seat next to her I could see what she was wearing. It was very ordinary but from the way she was seated – almost curling into herself – I could tell it was all her. She had on a white long sleeved button down shirt that was tucked in to a pair of old blue jeans she had on with a pair of blue Converse.

Since she looked the way she looked and was new here I could guess that a lot of people had not talked to her today. That’s rude, I though, even if she’s shy – which I can obviously tell she is – people should make the effort to talk to her.

I made the effort.

“Hi” She looked up (I finally saw her face. Just like I guessed, her hair was almost completely covering her face but you could still see how pretty she was. She had black rimmed glasses – sort of like the ones I have at home except my have little diamonds in the corners – but it couldn’t cover the unusual color of her eyes. It looked like violet colored eyes with a hint of blue around the edges. She obviously didn’t wear make-up but had very clear creamy-colored skin, like me and Annie. It made her look very pretty overall) but said nothing. I took that as my queue to continued talking. “I’m Katherine and you are…” I prompted

“I’m Sapphire.” She sighed and I was abruptly confused.

Why would she sigh? Did she not want to talk to me? Did she hate having to be here at this school? Did she not want to even try to make new friends? Did she want to make friends with anyone but me?

I guess she saw something in my face because she continued speaking as if she knew that the sigh had offended me.

“I didn’t mean to sigh it’s just my name is so…” She paused as if to think of a good way to express her thoughts on her name. She got frustrated “Well to make this simple I don’t like my name.”

“Oh” It was a stupid answer. I knew that but it was the only thing I could think of. “Well I don’t know why you don’t like it. It very pretty and unique and I know why it was given to you.”

“Unique” She scuffed and then realized something. “What do you mean you know why my parents gave me this name?” She asked

“Well your eyes there like violet with some blue around the edges. It looks like a sapphire so I can see why they named you that”

“Oh. I guess I never thought of it that way. Thanks. Oh and you can call me Sapphi, if you wish” She looked over at me again with those violet eyes of hers “Oh and your name isn’t half bad either. It has a nice ring to it. Katherine” she smiled

I knew she was trying to be nice but it still made me feel better. No one ever compliments my name. It is just so 1800s because it is from the 1800s. But I can’t blame my mom for choosing this name because it’s better than Alicabella. That’s what she was going to name me right before some friend of hers suggested Katherine. I will be eternally grateful to that friend of hers.

My mother had an obsession (Or so I heard from Aunt Maggie. Mom never told me any of this.) with long names. Aunt Maggie said it was because her mother gave her a short name – Ann – and she loved her name but wished it weren’t as short as it was. So she decided to give her kids long names. When she found out she was having twin girls she was ecstatic. She knew that her first daughter was going to be named Annabelle because she loved her name for her daughter but wanted it extended. Then she said her second daughter would either be named Alice or Isabella. She liked them both so she decided to put