Romance Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ White Angel ❯ Blast From the Past ( Chapter 3 )

Blast From the Past

Finally its here, the first day of high school. I would guess a normal person would have been nervous about what was in store for the last four years of school. Would they be scared of that over told story of how seniors target the incoming freshmen, or would they be excited to see their friends that they missed throughout the summer? To me, I had no real emotions for this next step in life. I was definitely not scared of being targeted since that has already been played out during my time at school, due to my differences in appearance. Excited would definitely not be a feeling I really know anymore, since I have no friends to call my own. Hopeful might be close to how I feel about this next step. It is one more year to graduation where I won't have to see all the people that stare and snicker. But, there is one thought that crosses my mind. I always wonder how Max is and what will happen when we next see each other.

I slowly inch out of bed and out of my dream like state. Getting up this early should be a crime, I thought to myself. Changing into one of my favorite tank and jeans I could hear some commotion from downstairs. My parents were arguing once again. It is always something to do with my father's long hours at the office and how he never had time for the family; at least that was my mom's feelings on the matter. Then my father will always tell her to get a real job and stop the silly painting. In the end both storm off to separate rooms of the house, leaving nothing settled. I tended to agree with my mother when it comes to this argument, since my dad always is in the office lately and I rarely see him, unless he makes a rare appearance at dinner. Things have changed between my parents and it was growing evident to everyone in the house more and more each day.

“Fine go back to your office, why don't you just go ahead and move there!” I could hear my mother yell as I crept down the stairs. The slamming of the front door indicated my father had enough of the fight and left for work. I decided it was safe enough so I went down the rest of the stairs and made it to the kitchen where I found my mother wiping away her tears while stirring some new organic oatmeal.

I slowly make my way behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, “I love you mom.” She then places her hands upon my own and nods, shaking slightly.

“I love you too, my pretty angel. Now go sit down at the table so you can have some breakfast before I take you to school,” she continues to stir the oatmeal on the oven. I break my binding hug and head over to the table and await the new healthy breakfast my mother had in store.

The kitchen becomes quiet as both my mother and I eat cream of oats for breakfast. Organic may be healthy but it definitely has no taste. I'm sure the horses from camp might appreciate this meal, I think to myself with a slight snicker.

“What's so funny hun?” my mom eyes me from across the table.

“Oh its nothing really,” I try to calm my smiling face.

My mother sighed, “I know. This new organic oat meal is for the horses.” With that I cracked up laughing and my mother followed suite. Once I could calm down a bit I smiled at my mother. It was good to see her laugh again.

“Well we should be heading out now or you will be late for the first day,” she paused with a smile. “This makes me think back at your very first day of school. I was so proud of you, even more now.”

“Oh mother do we really need to bring up such horrific memories?” I groan as I help clean up the table.

“Well why not. It wasn't that horrific. You displayed a lot of courage for a girl so young and also you got to meet that lovely boy Max. Speaking of which have you spoken to him lately?” she eyed me from the sink.

My once smiling face soon became emotionless. “Mom. We aren't friends anymore, remember.”

“Oh,” was all that was said as my mother finished up washing the dishes. “Well you better grab your bag so you are not late for school.” I sighed and grabbed my things as we both went to the car.

The car ride to school was like any other. My mom went on about the latest painting she was working on while I would talk about the few drawings I had started. As a child I never understood why my mother chose painting over getting a “real” job, but now I do. She helped me discover this new outlet for my emotions and all the happiness that a person could feel from accomplishing something that time and energy was put into. I admire her now; glad that she stayed true to herself and didn't do what my father was always suggesting.

Unfortunately the ride to school was never long enough and I had to finally face another day of academics. Thankfully with this new year I am able to have some say in the classes I'm put in. Art was definitely one that I chose as an elective, besides the must have classes.

I kiss my mother goodbye as I head out of the car and try to figure out where my home room is. As I stare at the number of the classroom, I think to myself that the school should really put up signs for some sort of direction. Still staring at the paper and mini map that was given to us, I ram into a fellow schoolmate. Ready to apologize profusely, I happen to glance up at the face of my victim. I could feel myself blushing as I stared up at Max.

My voice quickly became absent as I tried to remember how to form words in my mind, but my mind was not quick enough.

“Allison?” came that all to familiar voice. I think I was even more shocked that he remembered my name.

“U-uh yes? I mean sorry. I should have been watching where I was going,” I finally stuttered some sort of apology.

“Oh thats alright. It's been awhile. How have you been?” Max spoke as if nothing had happened a few years ago, like only a summer had passed between us. That infuriated me.

“I've been good, but I really need to get to my homeroom. Got to get my schedule and all.” I attempted to make a quick get away but was stopped as Max took my homeroom number out of my hand.

“Oh I know where this is. I'm actually heading in the same direction. Walk with me and I'll show you.” He started walking indicating for me to follow.

I was sure my face was rather pink, mainly out of anger. How could he act like nothing happened two years ago? Why is he being so nice towards me now? I don't understand him and his kindness just makes me even more frustrated. I couldn't wait to get to my homeroom so I could get away from this old friend of mine. What I really wanted more than anything, was to escape to some janitor's closet and cry. I wanted to cry out loud how Max had made me feel that day when he ended our friendship so cruelly. I wanted to tell him how upset I was at the camp dance when he didn't stick up for me and left with his buddies. Unfortunately class was in the way of my overwhelming meltdown.

Max really didn't say much while he walked me to my homeroom; really he hardly noticed I was by his side. He was rather busy saying hello to people that passed by in the hallway to even notice my looks of disgust at his sudden popularity. I remained quiet since I really didn't have much to say to him or anyone else for that matter.

Thankfully we make it to my homeroom and I was just hoping to avoid the awkward parting with Max. I guess I got my wish in the end because as soon as we reached the classroom door some girl grabbed hold of him, taking him away from me. I glanced at who it could be and was shocked. It was the girl that had taken my hat from me that fateful day I met Max. She definitely hadn't changed a bit from the looks of her. She spotted me and gave me that same sneer she did the last time we had confronted each other. I took this opportunity to hurry inside the classroom. My heart was pounding in my chest as I sat at one of the desks. One question seemed to fester in my mind. Was Max and her going out? I shook the thought out of my head as the homeroom teacher started to call names for people to claim their class schedules.

Art was my first class of the day, which seemed to lift my spirits. I was extremely happy that soon I could paint away all my anger of the morning events. Looking to my map for guidance and making sure to pay attention to where I was going, I made it safely to the art room and took a seat near the back of the class. I was the first one to arrive, I guess everyone else was too busy catching up with each other to rush off to class. In a minute or two another girl came through the door looking around with much curiosity. I didn't recognize her at all. She soon came and sat next to me, which made me want to question what the heck she was doing. Instead the girl turned to face me and introduced herself.

“Hi my name is Marissa. I'm new to town,” she smiled.

I almost couldn't speak for the second time this morning, but I got my barrings back quickly. “Uh hello. I'm Allison. You can call me Ally if you like.”

“Nice to meet you,” she continued to smile.

I opened my mouth to say something but the school bell interrupted me, which caused many students to dash into the classroom. The teacher was last to follow. He was an interesting looking fellow. He was an elderly gentleman with an Einstein-like hairdo, kind of on the shorter side, but there was a look of kindness in his eyes.

He was just about to take role when one last student came in the door. As I spotted the student I knew this day would never end.

“Sorry I'm late,” Max apologized.