Miles lay awake in his bed, his blue eyes fixated on the emptiness of his bedroom ceiling, patiently awaiting the sound of his alarm that would signal the end of procrastination. His head throbbed, and his thoughts raced until the resounding silence was shattered by his alarm. The phone was within arm's reach, yet it seemed an insurmountable distance away. His arm felt heavy against the soft mattress; would he manage to hit snooze, or would the alarm persist indefinitely?
He remained still and paralyzed for a moment longer before mustering the courage to seize the phone from the bedside table. With a tap on snooze, silence reclaimed the room, and there he lay, once again gazing at the vacant ceiling.
Abel, Miles' brother, was seated at his desk with headphones in and pencil poised. He was engrossed in writing in his journal—a common sight; indeed, you would find him doing so nine times out of ten. What he penned remained a mystery—thoughts, emotions, or perhaps a manifesto? That knowledge was his alone, and he took pride in keeping it undisclosed.
With each stroke of the pencil and every sweep of eraser dust, his words waltzed across the page as gracefully as a girl at a ball—swift and precise. He scribbled furiously, his grip tightening into a cramp, yet he urged himself on with the thought, "Just one more sentence." Eventually, the discomfort became unbearable, and he had to pause to alleviate it. He set his pencil beside his journal in the desk drawer and began to shake his hand vigorously.
Massaging the knot at the center of his palm, he caught a glimpse of flickering light through the holes where the blind's strings threaded. Puzzled, he rose and strode to the window, flinging the blinds open with such force it was as though he expected to confront an intruder.
Instead, what greeted him was perhaps an even more alarming sight: the sun's rays cresting over the mountains.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, rushing to his closet to grab the first clothes he could lay hands on—a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and black-and-white sneakers. He shrugged on his shirt and leaped into his pants before dashing out of his room, flinging the door wide open. He leaped out as it swung aggressively, but his momentum was abruptly halted. He had collided directly with Miles, knocking him to the ground and causing him to hit the back of his head against the wall.
"Sorry Miles, I thought you might have left without me," he explained, offering a hand.
"No, I started late this morning," he replied, standing and feeling the forming bump on the back of his head.
"Hmm, guess that means I still have time for breakfast," he said, clutching his rumbling stomach.
"Yeah, I suppose so. But if you're not finished by the time I leave, I'm going without you and you'll have to walk on your first day," his brother retorted, heading into the bathroom.
He rolled his eyes and went downstairs for breakfast. Entering the living room, he saw his father asleep in the recliner, having collapsed there last night, not three feet from the TV.
The screen was still on, softly emitting the morning news. He tiptoed to his father's chair and delicately retrieved the remote from its arm. He aimed it at the screen to switch it off but before he could—
"Breaking news from the White House tonight: the President alleges that Russia has invaded Lithuania. This morning, the President delivered a speech on the White House steps, asserting that the U.S. must intervene following the invasion of a NATO member country. President Biden has declared a state of emergency in Texas, Illinois, California, and Washington. We will bring you more on this story soon," stated the news anchor, smiling for the cameras.
"It's the same story as last night; oddly, they're not in the studio this morning," he mumbled to himself before switching off the TV. He shrugged and proceeded to the kitchen, where his twin sister Amanda greeted him.
"Oh, look who's up early, Ms. Goody Two-Shoes," he said mockingly.
"Not everyone can afford to work a dead-end job with just a GED," she retorted sharply.
He scoffed and grumbled under his breath.
"If that's everything, I'll be in the car," she announced, moving towards the door.
As she shut the door behind her, Abel grabbed the cereal from the counter and milk from the fridge. He selected a bowl and started pouring his breakfast.
Just as he was about to add milk, Miles' heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs.
"Ready?" he asked, snatching his coat and car keys.
"Yeah, I guess," Abel responded, reluctantly sealing the milk again.
As they drove to school, Amanda occupied the front seat while Abel settled into the central rear seat. A palpable silence engulfed the car, creating an awkward ambiance. To dissipate the silence, Miles switched on the radio. However, all the main stations emitted nothing but static, and the talk shows were inundated with news stories.
"Russia this, Russia that—just give me some music, dammit!" Miles exclaimed, his frustration evident as he nearly punched the power button. The silence was short-lived since the high school was only a few miles away, but it still cast an uncomfortable pall over them.
Upon entering the building, they were greeted by the scent of sweat permeating the air, the sound of sneakers screeching against vinyl floors resonating through the halls, and the clamor of lockers slamming shut assaulting the ears of unsuspecting students. The first day back at school is always somewhat overwhelming: a deluge of people of all ages floods the hallways, and the intrusive blare of someone announcing over the intercom doesn't help.
"Welcome back! Pep rally today at 9:30 am." This scene was all too familiar to Miles, the eldest of the Henderson trio. At sixteen, he was embarking on his second year of high school. His siblings, now fifteen, were stepping into their first year with no real sense of what to expect beyond the tales spun by their older brother—stories of brawls, dreadful teachers, and the perils of missing an assignment.
The twins were anything but thrilled to embark on this new chapter in life, acutely aware that Miles would abandon them to navigate on their own as soon as he spotted any of his friends. Miles had always been well-regarded and popular among his peers. His popularity came as no surprise; he had always been perceived as an attractive and charismatic individual.
Standing at six feet tall, Miles exuded presence with his mocha skin, black wavy hair trimmed short above the ears, and deep blue eyes that commanded attention. He found making friends effortless.
Abel, bearing a striking resemblance to Miles, harbored no envy for his brother's popularity. Receiving less attention than his siblings, he preferred solitude, which distinguished him from the rest. This made him an outlier, yet he relished the absence of competition for 'the coolest' title and the pressure to be impeccable.
Amanda was the epitome of everyone's expectations: academically brilliant and stunningly beautiful. She was petite, with skin as radiant as her brothers', but her eyes set her apart—a deep emerald green that sparkled like jewels on a princess's crown in the light.
Popularity, admiration, and desire held no allure for her. Her ambition was singular—to become a doctor like her mother. On the surface, she appeared flawless, but her indifference to such perceptions was clear. Her sole focus was on graduating and forging her career.
As they stood observing the bustling crowd, Abel was engrossed in his phone, diligently avoiding any awkward eye contact. Amanda's gaze was firmly fixed on her schedule as if charting out her entire day before it had even started.
Miles surveyed the sea of faces streaming by, acknowledging nearly everyone with waves and nods. Yet, the one face he sought was absent. His gaze darted from left to right until he spotted her. Beck was across the common area, engaged in conversation with her friends. She radiated beauty, her summer tan lingering on her skin and her short red hair framing her striking light blue, almost silver eyes. At the sight of her, Miles's eyes sparkled with excitement. He adjusted the straps of his backpack and stood taller before addressing his siblings.
"Here's the plan: classes starting with the number three are upstairs; those with two and below are downstairs. Stay close to me during the pep rally, and I'll guide you to your first classes. Does that sound good?" He sought affirmation from his younger siblings. Amanda nodded, her eyes fixed on her schedule. Abel responded with only an indifferent eye roll and shrug. With a deep exhale and an eye roll of his own, Miles headed toward Beck and her friends. Beck spotted him coming and waved excitedly, eager to find out if she shared any new classes with her boyfriend.
He wove through the throng of people, apologizing as he bumped and nudged his way through the crowd congesting the central area. Navigating past students and teachers, he drew nearer to his goal. Suddenly, a backpack rammed into his side, sending him reeling backward into another student.
As he stumbled, a styrofoam tray laden with French toast sticks, syrup, and an open carton of chocolate milk tumbled to the floor, its contents spilling everywhere.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"
"Are you fucking blind, Henderson?" Scott snapped as he wiped milk from his shoes before punting the half-full carton directly at him.
Scott was Miles' polar opposite in every respect; he was the quintessential jerk.
He had always treated those around him poorly; he was a womanizer and a narcissist. Scott was strong and aware of it. He was tall, sporting a blonde buzz cut. He donned his letterman jacket like a badge of honor, and it was rare to see him without a cigarette tucked behind his ear.
"I'm sorry, Scott; it was an accident," he said, wiping milk off his pants.
"You'd better be sorry," Scott retorted, chuckling with his friends before shouldering past Miles, causing him to stumble. Miles rolled his eyes and continued on his way through the crowd until he reached Beck, who had witnessed the entire scene with a look of disdain.
"Why did you apologize to that asshole?" she inquired, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek.
"He's looking for a reaction, for a fight. I won't give him the satisfaction," he replied, shrugging.
"In my experience with guys like Scott, eventually you're left with no choice," she remarked, her smirk softening.
Meanwhile, Amanda and Abel were left to weave through the sea of people to reach the gym for the Pep Rally. Amanda started walking briskly, trying to avoid any interaction.
"Where are you headed?" Abel called out after her.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" she shot back as she vanished into the crowd.
"Jesus Dash, always on the move with nowhere to go," he muttered to himself, shaking his head before looking for someone to guide him through the cesspool they called a school.
He navigated through the cacophony of chattering voices until he reached a table where one individual was seated. A petite child with short black hair and brown eyes sat there, adorned with dangling snowman earrings, an oversized green and brown wool sweater, and ripped skinny jeans, all while jotting down notes in an aged, weathered notebook.
"Excuse me?" he inquired, gently tapping on their shoulder.
"Yes?" the teen replied, lifting their gaze from the book they were engrossed in.
"Sorry to bother you, but I'm new here. Could you tell me where the gym is?" he asked his hand awkwardly at the back of his neck.
"No problem, it can be tricky to find your way around at first. I'm actually headed in that direction now if you'd like to come along," the teen offered, snapping the worn book shut and slipping it into their backpack.
"I'm Eden," they introduced themselves, extending a hand.
"Abel. A pleasure to meet you," he responded with a smile, shaking Eden's hand. Together, they set off towards the school's west wing.
"So, what's your story?" Abel inquired.
My name is Eden, and I often feel like an outsider, especially being the only non-binary person around here—it's quite peculiar," they remarked, their gaze fixed on the ground.
"Non-binary? So, you prefer they/them pronouns, correct?" he inquired, recalling a Ted Talk he had watched.
"Yes. I'm the odd one out, a misfit; you know the drill. But here's my little secret to avoiding bullies," they confided, beckoning him closer to whisper. He eagerly bent down, positioning his ear near their lips. "Just act as if it's infectious. Once people believe they can catch 'the gay,' they'll steer clear," they whispered.
Abel was momentarily stunned, unsure of how to respond. Meanwhile, Eden struggled to hold back their amusement. A deep blush spread across their face as they clapped a hand over their mouth, trying to suppress their laughter.
"I'm just fucking with you! Spotting a homophobe nowadays is as rare as sighting Bigfoot—mostly just tall tales."
He let out a soft chuckle and his face brightened into a smile.
"You've just become my new best friend," he declared, placing a hand on their shoulder. They exchanged smiles as the duo made their way to the gym.