I groaned as I rolled over to slap the snooze button one last time. I wasn’t exactly motivated to get up. It was not only a school day, but it was Monday. Just as I started to drift back into my dreams, my mom screamed from the bottom of the steps.

      “LILY! Wake up or you’re going to be late!”

     Reluctantly I threw the covers aside and dragged myself into the hall bathroom, slamming the door. This way my mom knew I was up and didn’t have to hear her yelling anymore. Looking in the mirror was not a pretty sight. My hair was a wild mess. I must have slept horrible last night. Taming it the best I could with my hairbrush, I pulled it back into a ponytail. Glaring into the mirror some more revealed dark circles underneath my big hazel eyes. Great I mumbled to myself, more evidence of a rough night. I went back into my room to get dressed. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a fresh tee from my dresser. This is typical wear for me this time of year. Though it was the middle of January, it was central Florida after all. The winters here are like a brisk fall compared to most places. I grabbed a light jacket to throw over top my tee to deal with the morning chill.

     I hopped down the stairs, barely missing the shoes my sister Melody left. I certainly did not need to fall down them. Running into the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and snatched a granola bar from the basket on the counter. Over my shoulder, I hollered quick “thanks” and “see ya later” to my mom who finished watching the latest traffic report and was heading off to work. My mom, Caroline, was a nurse at the hospital. Though we both had brown hair, we were completely different. I had a good three inches on her, which topped me off at 5’7”, and much more slender. Her round face was exaggerated by round specs that seemed to make her cocoa brown eyes even bigger. She’s the greatest though; I just wish I could be as strong as her.

     It’s been almost a year since my dad Tyler was killed over in Iraq, leaving my mom, Melody and myself to fend for ourselves. Mom seemed to pull herself together more quickly after his death than us girls. Maybe it’s from working in the hospital or because she already prepared herself that it could happen when he got deployed. Melody was finishing up her Associate degree and worked part-time so she’s not home much. Plus she is usually with her boyfriend of a year, Jackson. My sister is the opposite of me. She’s outgoing, sociable, and cares what others think of her. Mel is the kind of girl that has to get up an hour or more early just to be ready in time. She’s tried and tried to make me more like her but fails every time. She still has a few bad moments but only when something would remind her of Dad.

     Unlike Melody, I still cried myself to sleep some nights. It has caused me to have depression issues that did not help me socially at school. Despite being a Senior at George Washington High (and attended there the past few years), I have not accumulated a lot of friends at school. Partially it is because I am not the biggest fan of having girls for friends. Well I did have a few, but none I really hung out with except for one, Emma. I have always kept to myself, but it intensified when my dad got deployed. I did manage to make a few friends. But once he got killed, I did not want to let anyone else in.

 

     I stuck my granola bar in my mouth to free a hand while I locked the front door. I snapped the deadbolt and spun around. I looked up just in time to avoid running into Mason, my best friend. Mason was a loner like me. It wasn’t that he was shy; he just preferred to be by himself. He was about an inch taller and had black hair that came down to along his jaw line and kept it tucked behind his ears. He was very skinny and his features were almost pointy. He topped his look off with a worn band tee and a pair of black jeans that have been washed way too many times that half covered his Doc Martins. Mason moved into a house down on the other side of the street the summer before our Junior year. Shockingly, we were the only teenagers on the street so we were bound to be friends. Our friendship grew while we waited for the bus every morning.

      “You’re late,” he informed me in his low husky voice, staring at me with his brown eyes.

      “I know, I know,” I managed to say in between chews of my breakfast.

     We swiftly got into my car and pulled out of the driveway. I was grateful to get my dad’s maroon Chevy Malibu when school started this year. Not only did I finally earn enough over the summer to get my car insurance, but I also had Melody to thank for helping me convince our mom that I was ready to have it. She told her that she refused to drive me to school when I overslept. I could not help that I was not a morning person. Plus alarm clock companies helped by making such a big snooze button on top. I really think she deliberately chose more morning classes just to avoid this daunting task. Luckily, Mom said yes and I got the car to drive myself and Mason to school.

      “So how you doing?” Mason asked breaking the silence in the car.

      “I’m fine,” I said hastily, clearly lying. I was struggling with the fact that the anniversary of my dad’s death was creeping up on me. It was moments like these I was glad my best friend was a guy. Mason never prodded when it came to the emotional stuff like a girl would. He changed the subject and started reviewing for our Spanish test with me that we had today. I was appreciative of the distraction. We pulled into the school parking lot with five minutes to spare.

      “Ha!” I let out as I put the car into park. “We made it with time to spare!”

      “Yeah, this time!” Mason said as he got out of the car.

     “I’ll try better tomorrow. I’m just not motivated to get out of bed right now,” I admitted sadly. Mason knew why. He walked around the car and gave me a big squeeze.

      “I know,” he said caringly. He flashed me a smile and headed off to Trigonometry. I had Advance Chemistry in the other building. I would see him again during second period for Spanish.

           

     Emma seemed impatient as she waited for me outside the classroom. I wondered how long she had been waiting for me. We could seriously pass as sisters. She was about the same height and build as me and only two months older. She kept her brown hair shorter than mine, having it only down to her chin as opposed to my shoulder length. She stood leaning up against the wall wearing a Jack Sparrow tee and jeans. Her brown eyes went big as she noticed me.

      “About time you got here! I’ve been dying to tell you about my date with Jesse!”

     She and Jesse were getting pretty serious after a few months of dating. I was happy for her, even happier for myself because it kept her distracted enough not to be too concerned about my emotional state. Jesse seemed to be a great guy, but so not my type. He was a towering six foot one, huge muscles and pretty short hair which always seemed to be growing into a brown bush. He was also a line-backer for the school’s football team.

     I suffered through class listening to the details of their date while we did our lab. Relief flooded over me when the bell rang and we departed our ways. I headed to Spanish with Mason and looked forward to lunch.

 

     I got my usual cheese steak and tater tots and followed Mason outside. We sat down in our normal spot; the curb in the courtyard. “Where’s Emma?” I asked.

      “She walked Jesse to class.”

      “Oh yeah,” I grumbled before taking a bite of my cheesesteak.

       “What’s your problem?”

       “Nothing,” I said hastily between chews. I had been so anti-love lately with the anniversary coming up.

       “I know what your problem is, you’re lonely,” he declared.

       “I got you, don’t I,” I said sarcastically.

       “Of course, but I mean you need to get a boyfriend.”

       I laughed. “Like I’m going to take relationship advice from you! When was your last date?”

      “Ok. Point taken.”

      “Sorry I’m late,” Emma announced as she joined us on the curb. “What’d I miss?”

      “Just Mason trying to tell me to get a man,” I chuckled.

     She giggled. “Both of you need someone if you insist on not dating each other.” Emma was truly convinced that Mason and I should try again to date. We have both told her a hundred times that it’s not going to happen. Though we had made a pack that if we were both single by the time we were forty, we would marry each other so we wouldn’t die alone.

      “If you can find a girl that can handle you two being my friends, bring her on!”      

      “True,” I mumbled through my tater tots. It was true indeed. No girl he’s dated liked the fact that we all were friends, well, mostly me. He stood his ground on the topic, either they accept it and not be jealous or they could leave. Unfortunately for him, they leave. High school girls are catty like that; I probably would feel the same way. “And there isn’t exactly a lot of guys that can deal with my emotional mess that I call me,” I admitted.

      “That’s for sure,” he agreed shoveling more tater tots in his mouth.

      “See that’s why you guys need to be together,” Emma insisted.

      “Not gonna happen Em, we’ll each find someone eventually,” I reassured her.

      “Hey there my lovely band of misfits!” A familiar voice welcomed.

      “Hey Scraps!” Emma and I greeted in unison. Scraps was Mason’s best guy friend and a really good friend of mine too. Even though our birthdays were a few months apart (mine in the beginning of December and his in the beginning of March), he was almost a year older than me and making him the oldest amongst us. His real name is Nathan, but most called him “Scraps” because of his constant fighting. You would not guess that about him at first glance. He was very tall and lanky but all muscle. His backwards battered Independent hat concealed his blue hair that normally fell just above his ears and the rest was shaved. He had on a black t-shirt with a red Chinese dragon on it, baggy blue jeans with his wallet chain dangling from his side, and his black chucks. Scraps was just like Mason in that he shared his love for metal; whether heavy metal music or metal shop.

     “Hey man, you working on your car tonight?” he asked plopping down in between Mason and Emma.

     “You know it.” Mason had decided to get a rundown Mustang that basically needed everything, instead of getting a car that actually ran. He even got a job at AutoZone so he could get a discount. He spent most of his free time working on it with Scraps. It sucked for me when I didn’t have to work because I was subjected to watching them work on it. Luckily there was a beat-up old leather couch in the garage for me to crash on and do homework. It was better than sitting alone at my house. And when they weren’t tinkering with the car, they jammed out with guitars, which I enjoyed very much.

     “Hey Lily-bean?” Scraps said. I cringed at that nickname he insisted on calling me. I’ve long given up on telling him not to call me that.  “Can I catch a ride with you to Mason’s?”

     “You got a ride home?”

     “Yup!” he replied leaning forward and snatching a couple of my tater tots.

     “Fine, only if you leave my food alone.”

     “Deal,” he agreed with his mouth full of my tots.

     “You coming Emma?” I asked hopefully.

“Um, I’ll let ya know. Let me check with Jesse first.” I wish she would take more control and not check in with him before making plans with us. Jesse wasn’t exactly a fan of Mason and Nate. He only tolerated them when he absolutely had to. Unbeknownst to them, but she told me that Jesse actually asked her to stop hanging out with them so much. I begged her not to tell the two, especially Scraps because he may use that as an excuse to pick a fight with Jesse.

Of course Emma wasn’t going to come. She told me in the hall before last period that he wants just the two of them to hang out. I told her I would see her tomorrow. So looks like it would just be me and the boys.