Full Moon - Elaina H (e book reader android txt) 📗

Full Moon

Chapter One

I pull back my blonde hair into a tight perfect ponytail. Tilting my head, I brush on the new blackest black waterproof mascara, and, finally, smear on the bubble gum pink lip gloss I’d received for making honor roll; again.

The powder blue and white cheer uniform hugs my body, and the shirt stops right below my rib cage. Unfortunately, the short skirt starts low on my hips. I almost tossed the whole idea of wearing our cheer uniforms on Mondays, and put on some stretchy shorts. But Anna would kill me.

Practicing my large, fake smile in the mirror before I head down the staircase, I hear my older sister knock on my door. “Gwen! I’m leaving early, so you better hurry.”

I roll my eyes, “Thanks for letting me know early,” I mutter sarcastically. The joys of being sixteen were ripped away when I found out I wouldn’t be getting a car until I was eighteen.

My older sister, Anna, just turned eighteen last month, and had received her bright red Ferrari. Anna was head cheerleader, and used that to her full advantage when it came to me.

Anna was dating a senior who she’d gone to school with since kindergarten (the second time around; they held her back the first time) and had never taken an interest in him until he joined the football team sophomore year. Chad, her boyfriend, was always hanging around, and winked at her all the time. But, he also winked at a few other girls all the time too.

Like always, Anna refused to notice the obvious, even when we told her flat out; Chad was a slime ball.

Anna could have any guy she wanted really, she was the prettiest girl in the entire school, and she knew it.

My younger sister, Alice, was the sweetest of us three. She always told the truth and showed true compassion. She was fourteen, and a goody-two-shoes

Alice was Freshman, me a Junior, and Anna a Senior. We are all very alike in looks. Our similarities are our blue eyes, long blonde hair, tan bodies, tall frames, thin, and athletic. When we enter a room people know it.

Mom is exactly like us, but my father is the opposite with his mop of floppy brown hair and dark green eyes. He is tall too, but paler compared to us.

My father’s family, who hates my mother, tried to convince my father once upon a time that we were the ‘milk mans kids’.

As to be expected, Dad ignored them.

Anna leans toward Mom’s personality: flirty, fun, outgoing athletic, and a gossip.

Alice is my dad all the way: funny, sweet, caring, giving, and always self-sacrificing. She also has the urge to leave the room when anything unpleasant comes up.

Me on the other hand, I follow no one. I am athletic and nice, but I also have a mean streak that comes through at the most awkward times. But, when I notice it I try to keep it from surfacing. What I really am is sarcastic. No one in my family understands where I get it from because they are all very polite.

But I am quiet and shy when I don’t know you, I never step forward to make a difference. I am me, I am not a copy of my parents.

I check my reflection once more in the mirror before picking up my light blue backpack, and shoving my feet in the white flip flops I love so much.

Finally, heading down the steps, I hear the door slam shut and my mother pour a cup of coffee.

“Did Anna just leave with Alice?” Mom continues humming and drinking coffee.

“No, she wouldn’t!” my mother gasps. “That’s complete and utter nonsense! This will be fixed, let me get a hold of her. Boy, when she hears from me!”

“Mom?” I wait and she pushes her hair behind her ear, revealing a bluetooth.

“Just a moment, my daughter is trying to get my attention,” she laughs a little too hard at what the other woman says and answers back. “Yea, yea! I know kids!

“Okay, okay! Bye bye, now. I’ll see you at the Food Drive on Saturday.” Her long, thick, black eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks as she finishes up whatever gossip she was relating to the person on the other end of the phone line.

She rolls her eyes dramatically and mouths ‘Oh my God’, “Caroline! Yes, it’s this Saturday. How could you forget? We’ve been planning…” Caroline must have cut Mom off.

She nods, “I don’t care if your daughter has a recital, you have to be there!”

I hear Caroline apologize over and over again, “Mom?!” I whisper yell at her.

“You better be there, Caroline,” my mother scolds.

“Bye, bye. See you this Saturday.”

“Mom, I’ve been trying to get your attention…,” I slam my foot down and she just quiets me by putting her pointer finger to her red lips.

“Really!” Mom gasps. “I would have never ever guessed that she would have cheated on George. Francis Milton has such a sweet heart. I just can’t see her having an affair?” Mom listens and nods, “Really? Three years, it’s been going on that long?”

I scream under my breath and grab and apple from the fruit bowl.

Opening the door and seeing the car gone, I figure I might as well walk. Besides my only other choice is waiting out Mom’s incredibly long phone conversations that sometimes seem to go on for days.

Our street is full of other fancy homes, and fancy families. Almost all the time, I feel like an imposter in this clean, pristine neighborhood. I frown and the For Sale sign in the front yard of a neighboring house, wondering who could possibly be moving. A bead of sweat drips down into my face and I swipe it away.

It’s only three weeks into the school year, the heat is awful, but I trudge on anyways; fanning myself with my World History folder.

On my way toward the school, a black Harley Davidson flies past. The rider’s helmet covers his whole head and blocks his face. He wears a leather jacket and jeans.

I watch motorcycle passes over the top of the hill, toward the horizon, and out of sight.

Who owns a motorcycle in town? It could be anyone! People buy new trinkets everyday around here. The thought leaves my mine as the horrible heat fills my brain.

When the high school is in sight and my armpits are sweating, I’ve already made up my mind to kill Anna and Alice for leaving me behind.

The large brick school looks like it’s built to hold thousands of kids, but really we only have seven hundred students or so. A banner runs across the main entrance of the school and right underneath it is Anna.

Once I make my way up the front steps, I see Anna making out with Chad. Alice is ten feet away flirting with a sophomore.

Anger boils inside of me, and I can’t help but shout, “This is what you had to be here early for, loser?!” I yell at her. “You couldn’t have waited five minutes for me to finish? I had to walk all the way here!” She looks me up and down with her nose crinkled, and merely shrugs her shoulders.

“You weren’t ready. I warned you,” Chad laughs and mumbles something under his breath that I don’t hear.

“God! Why can’t you just be a decent sister for once in your life?! I know it sucks that you’re jealous of me…” Her eyes widen, she absolutely hates when I say she’s jealous of me, probably because it’s true, and she puts her hands on her hips.

She swallows hard, and runs her tongue over her front teeth before speaking, “Trust me, Gwen, there’s nothing to be jealous of. No boyfriend, no car, no friends, no life. How could you have one after what you said last summer?” Her tone is sickeningly sweet, but her eyes speak hate.

I cringe and close my eyes for two seconds before opening them again, “I seriously cannot believe you said that just now.” I suck in a deep breath, “No wonder the whole squad hates you, and says things behind your back.”

Anna had started kissing Chad right in the middle of my speech, but pulls away. “Go away you little stalker! Do you want to watch us make out?” Anna’s lips pull back into a sneer. She won’t tolerate me insulting her baby, the squad.

Before I realize what I’m doing, my hands are out, palms facing Anna, and slamming into her chest.

I glare, “Now I’m good now, loser, I’ll leave.” I growl and stalk away into the school.

Entering the bathroom, I rest my hands on the counter and stare into the mirror.

Boy, am I glad I wore waterproof mascara today. The sweat would have ruined it! Not that anyone cares about me anymore. Not after what happened during the summer. Not after, well, everything.

The bathroom is empty in the final minutes before first bell and I let the A/C bring down my body temperature and cool my anger.

God! Anna makes me so mad, why can’t Anna be like Alice; sweet and innocent. Why does she have to say the most awful, hurtful things?! I push a strand of stringy blonde hair out of my eyes, and just chill in the bathroom until the bell rings.

When the bell does finally ring, I head to my locker look ahead, ignoring everyone. Even the thought of making eye contact with one of my so called friends from last year, well, it makes me want to vomit.

The nasty comments and rude remarks haven’t been that bad yet, everyone was still so enthralled with seeing all their friends. But something deep inside of me warns me that today things are different. Today people are remember, and people are talking.

Taking a nervous, shaking breath, I click in the combination, 8-25-8. The lock pops open and I retrieve my Spanish book from my bright yellow locker and my 2-inch Spanish binder.

Staring at the worn down binder that I had bought freshman year, I smile.

The white binder has drawings all over it; hearts and flowers, names and numbers. Each piece sign and heart representing a memory or a lecture. When I stubble across one specific number I shiver. That was from last year. That was the year he asked me out. It is his number. I may have deleted it from my phone, but I can’t just scribble it off of this binder.

I need a new binder.

Instead of tossing the binder then and there, which is what I feel like doing, I flip it over so I can’t see the cover, and continue on to first hour.

The powder blue skirt feels like it becoming shorter and shorter as I walk down the hallways and I feel more stares on my back. My face and neck get hot, and I begin to feel like I’m suffocating.

Gosh, I wish no one remembered what happened over the summer. I wish it didn’t happen. It shouldn’t have happened, I know that much. It feels so long ago to me, but to these people, my classmates, it was only yesterday.

Emily Watson slides past me, ramming her shoulder into mine, “Oops, sorry! I’m too much of an idiot hick. I ain’t smart enough to walk straight,” she mocks, and frowns at me. Instead of running up to tell me about her and Tommy Neal, her on-again off-again boyfriend, she’s running into me to hurt me.

I cringe at the thought of all my friends hating me. Of having absolutely no one. “People won’t ever forget,” I mutter.

Taking a seat in Spanish only warrants me more stares. I’m forever thankful when Jordan Hamilton takes the seat next to me.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

I’ve known Jordan since forever, but I only stated talking to him when I dated him. Since they played on football together