I brushed my hair, then sighed, frustration bubbling up. “Vylad! Where did you hide my hairspray?”
Vylad burst into the room, grinning. “Gotcha! I borrowed it…”
“Just give it back,” I said, rolling my eyes as I reclaimed the can and sprayed a quick mist over my hair.
“Why the fuss with your hair? And why does it *need* hairspray?” Vylad asked, tilting his head.
I sighed, a familiar wave of irritation washing over his obliviousness. “A) I like the style, and B) this—" I shook the can for emphasis—"keeps it in place.”
“Oh. Well, maybe you should’ve done that *before* getting dressed,” he suggested, gesturing to my pajama-clad form.
I smacked my forehead with a groan. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Yes, you are,” Vylad chuckled, then smirked and bolted downstairs. “Don’t want to be stuck here for *that* event.” He left me alone, a wave of self-consciousness washing over me.
Quickly, carefully, I slipped into my Phoenix Drop High uniform, smoothing the fabric over my hips, acutely aware of the delicate balance needed to avoid ruining my hairstyle. I took a deep breath. I really needed to start thinking through my actions more carefully. I checked myself in the mirror. “Good enough.”
I hurried downstairs and sat at the kitchen table. Mom, radiant as always, stood by the toaster. “Morning, Mom,” I said cheerfully. She was my confidante, my best friend.
“Morning, honey! How’s my favorite daughter?” Her voice was warm and familiar.
I groaned playfully. “You’re only daughter, Mom.”
“The question still stands,” she laughed, kissing my cheek and placing a slice of toast in front of me.
“Oh, well, I’m exhausted,” I admitted.
“You’re always tired,” Zane called from the top of the staircase, his voice laced with mock annoyance.
“I could say the same for you,” I retorted, knowing he was just trying to get a rise out of me.
“Watch it!” Zane yelled bitterly.
“Wouldn’t have to if you didn’t take four years to walk down the stairs. It’s not the Victoria’s Secret Catwalk,” Garroth retorted, shoving my dark-haired brother out of the way.
“Well, maybe if you wouldn’t take two hours to get ready, you’d be down here before me and this wouldn’t be a problem in the first place!” Garroth retorted.
“Hey! I don’t just wake up like this!” Garroth snorted.
“Okay, boys. Enough,” Mom warned gently, but her voice still held its cheerful tone.
I took a bite of toast. “So, Vylad…”
“What?” He asked, suddenly alert.
We all chuckled. Vylad had always been jumpy, prone to sudden reactions. It was a habit, a quirk we’d grown accustomed to.
“Y/N, why’d you do that? Now everyone’s laughing at me.” He frowned.
I laughed. “Well, you were quiet.”
“Vylad’s always quiet,” Garroth said, a mischievous glint in his eye.
I laughed again. “No, he was jabbering non-stop this morning.”
“Yeah! I’m not!” Vylad protested.
“I hate to interrupt your conversation about one of my lovely sons, but we have to leave for school!” Mom said, her voice light and singsongy. I hopped up from my chair, quickly loading the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, grabbed my backpack, and raced towards the door.
“Well, someone’s excited for their first day,” Garroth said to Mom, who giggled in response.
“I’ll beat you to the car!” I yelled to Vylad, a tradition since kindergarten.
“Y/N, we’re highschoolers now. We don’t race to the car,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Oh.” I frowned, stopping mid-stride.
“Just kidding!” He yelled, sprinting towards the car and beating me to it.
“Hey! You tricked me, cheater!” I yelled, running after him.
I hopped into the car, and we drove to school listening to “This Is Gospel.” My nerves danced with anticipation. This was a huge step. Anything could happen today. But regardless, I was ready.