I was just seventeen when I had my first love. Yes, you read that right—seventeen. My name is Kendra Hills, the only child of an average couple. Growing up, I never had a close relationship with my parents; they were always busy and away from home because of the nature of their jobs. Most of the time, it was just me and our house help, Aunt Grace, who became more like a mother to me. Still, it could get really lonely sometimes.
On my seventeenth birthday, I decided to take a walk down the streets of New York, capturing random pictures. I was so engrossed in my camera that I didn't notice someone staring at me from across the street. Just as I was about to step into a store nearby, I heard my name:
"Kendra!"
I froze, surprised. Who in this neighborhood could possibly know my name? I turned around and saw an unfamiliar figure walking towards me with a wide smile.
Well—he was good-looking, damn it! But I kept a straight, serious face.
"Kendra, right?" he asked, now standing right in front of me.
"Yes," I replied, still keeping my guard up.
"Well, I'm Daniel, your schoolmate. I just moved into this neighborhood a few days ago," he said, smiling sheepishly.
But I wasn't having it. I felt like my privacy had been invaded. Hardly anyone in school knew personal things about me, so how could he? It made me feel exposed, and I hated that.
"So?" I shot back, staring hard at him.
"Can we be friends?" he asked, ignoring my coldness.
"No. I don't need friends."
And with that, I walked away—though secretly, I prayed he'd run after me, pleading and begging for my number. Unfortunately, he only turned back, got into his car, and drove off.
"WHAT!!! He's such a loser. Thank goodness I didn't agree to be his friend. Jesus Christ!" I muttered to myself while rushing home, eager to pen down the hilarious experience in my diary.
The Next Day
"DINGGGGGG!" My alarm blared. It was Monday morning, and I was too lazy to get ready for school. My mind drifted back to yesterday's encounter with Daniel, and I couldn't help but smile. Still, that wasn't my biggest problem—I was seriously considering skipping school. But Aunt Grace and Mr. James, my driver, had other plans.
I heard Mr. James honking downstairs while Aunt Grace barged into my room. I jumped out of bed immediately and ran into the bathroom, laughing as her voice echoed through the room.
"Breakfast is ready, lazy ass!" she yelled.
A few minutes later, I came downstairs, dressed and ready for school. I tried to sneak past the dining table, aiming to skip breakfast, but Aunt Grace was already waiting by the door. Defeated, I walked back to the table like a lost puppy. I ate quickly, then rushed off to school.
When school was finally over, I packed my bag in a hurry. I was excited—I had a shopping spree planned for today. But when I got to the gate, I didn't see Mr. James waiting as usual.
At first, I thought he might be running late, so I decided to wait a little. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty. Still no sign of him.
I became worried and quickly called Aunt Grace.
"Hi, Aunt Grace," I said, my voice shaky.
"Hello, my angel. What's wrong? Why do you sound like that?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.
"I can't find Mr. James. I've been waiting for over thirty minutes," I cried.
"Calm down, baby. Don't worry, I'll call him now, okay?" she said gently before hanging up.
A few minutes later, I finally spotted Mr. James driving toward me. He looked panicked as he parked and rushed out.
"I'm so sorry, ma. I'm so, so sorry. I got into an accident—with a student from your school. He's currently at the hospital," he said, panting.
"WHAT!!! TAKE ME THERE AT ONCE!" I yelled.