I woke up Wednesday morning in an excellent mood, and to the smell of sausage and salmon. Daddy was making breakfast. I pulled on a pair of baggy black sweats that were actually quite flattering, hugging my hips and hanging loosely on my small frame, and a tight black short sleeved tee. I pulled my long straight hair into a high ponytail and ran a clear coat of gloss over my lips. I finished up with a pair of bright white air maxes. Wednesday was our comfy day. We always wore sweats on Wednesdays. I'm not sure why we picked that day, but then I'm not sure how we started a lot of our rituals.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed down the stairs. My dad had already made my plate and put it on the counter. Three perfect pancakes, two sausage patties, and a large portion of salmon and eggs. The syrup sat next to the plate, and he was just putting the coffee pot down when I walked into the kitchen. Daddy made breakfast for me at least once a week.
"Perfect timing, Sweetheart," he said lightly as I poured myself a cup of coffee. "I finished your plate not five minutes before you came down."
"Thanks Daddy. You're the best."
"I am, aren't I?"
I had a great relationship with my dad. I suppose you could call me a Daddy's girl. He didn't exactly spoil me, but he liked to give me what I wanted if it was within reason. We'd always gotten along extremely well. We had the same logical intellectual humor that nobody else in the family seemed to share.
I finished my breakfast fairly quickly and let him know I was ready to go whenever he was. I never rode the bus to or from school. My mom followed the school buses back when I was in kindergarten, and decided she didn't like how they drove. My mother was particular like that.
We listened to the news and rode in silence on the way to school. We usually talked in the mornings, but I was content to just watch the world go by outside my window. Suddenly remembering that Operation: Befriend Sierra was still in effect, I sent a text to Kris and Gigi telling them to head to first without me, and that I would be waiting for Sierra. I hadn't let them in on my new development yet, but they caught on to things quickly. I was sure they'd figure most of it out on their own.
When we pulled into the car loop at Kennedy High School, I did a quick lip gloss touch up in the side mirror and hopped out of the car, waving to my dad on my way in. I walked in the front door and leaned against a side wall, amused by how much attention I drew even on my bummy days. I always commanded attention, since I was a child. I wasn't conceited enough to believe it was all positive, though. I knew some people were looking at me with less than adoration or admiration, and I was just fine with that. I never felt the need to be liked by everybody. Quite honestly, I never felt the need to be liked by anybody. I had a select few friends, and everybody else could jump off a cliff for all I cared - but I still enjoyed the attention.
After ten minutes or so, Sierra traipsed through the front doors with a smile on her face. I was pleased to see that yesterday was just a coincidence; she looked nothing like me today, with her hair down in loose curls around her face, wearing bermuda shorts and a loose tank top. I waved to her and smiled as sincerely as I could manage. She bounded over, looking more and more like a child with every step. Something about her very presence just irritated me, but I would have to ignore that for now.
"Hey honey!" I tried to force my fake smile into my voice, since I was sure my eyes didn't show it.
"Hi there, Harper." She was smiling too, but all of the sudden hers looked forced too. I noted the hostility of addressing me by my last name. This was going to be an interesting day.
"Way to go, hooking up with D! You little minx, you swore you weren't interested. I could see right through you, ya know!" I had read once that most of the time when people are joking, it's just an attempt to say what they want without the risk of bad reception. With this in mind, I maintained my playful tone and lightly tapped her arm.
Her brows raised very slightly, almost unnoticeably as she returned my smile yet again. I could see her thoughts running through her face while she tried to decide whether or not I was sincere, whether or not she should be sincere with me. Knowing this, I tried to let more warmth radiate from my smile and headed down the hall, beckoning for her to follow me.
She remained quiet for a few paces, and then I saw the sweetness return to her face.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Christiana," she started. "I know Devon is gorgeous. How could I not? I'm just used to girls trying to use me to sink their claws into him. I'm sorry I just assumed you were one of them."
I was, I thought to myself.
"Oh, I understand completely." I smiled and tried to look as light hearted as possible. "Tell me all about it darlin'. I saw that note in chorus headed your way yesterday! What did he say? How did he ask?"
I did my best to be the babbling, interested friend, wanting to know all the juicy details. It was only a half-lie. I really was interested in the details; I just didn't particularly care to be her friend.
"It was really simple, actually," she started. "I got the note and it just said 'Hey Sierra, you've really grown up…how about bein' my girl? Devon.' I looked at him and nodded, tryin' not to blush. It was so cute."
I struggled to not let my face visibly fall. He had signed the note Devon. I nodded and smiled, trying to look happy for her. Luckily we had made it to the chorus room and I could finally break my charade, but not before I made sure D saw us come in together. I waved her off to her seat, and watched D notice that my best friends were already in their seats. I sat down and put my hand to my head, which was suddenly pounding. I was a good actress, but the irritation of it all took a lot out of me. I looked up and noticed D was looking at me, with a sort of searching look to his eyes. I smiled at him and winked reassuringly, then did my best to ignore the smiles he and Sierra threw back and forth at each other for the next hour.