“Mirror” Preview (Ch. 1-3)
Chapters 1, 2, + 3
Author’s Note
Why is writing so hard? Two chapters takes me three days to write.
Anyway, IMPORTANT FOR BEFORE YOU START READING!
My viewpoints on many subjects are different than 80-90% of the
people on here. Going into this, you need to understand that my
viewpoints might be reflected through this work of creativity. Don’t
ask me to change anything like that!
Also, I am ruthless when it comes to character dynamics hehe,
Also…this is entirely a work of fiction. Any resemblance of these
characters to a person in real life is coincidental.
Thank you sososo much for being willing to take time to read these
first few chapters!
Xoxo,
Gracie (aka @girlybop13)
Chapter One
“I am so glad my parents aren’t here,” Lora says, grabbing a blanket
and flopping onto the sofa like a sack of potatos.
“Agreed,” I declare, doing the same, though making sure not to spill
the bowl of popcorn. We shuffle through our movie choices for a
while, finally deciding on some cheesy rom-com that was geared
more toward a 35-year-old mom than two high school girls.
Lora Jean’s parents were out of town for the week. She has an older
brother, named Michael, who is seventeen and was, for some
reason, considered responsible enough to watch over her. The fact
that her parents thought that was wild.
I, on the other hand, am simply spending some quality time with
my best friend. My parents barely noticed when I told them I was
spending the night. They only really ever notice when I do
something wrong.
“So…” I say, a cheeky tone evident in my voice as I completely
ignore the movie, “how’s it going with Jack?” Since we go to
different high schools now, this kind of conversation barely gets to
happen. School is so busy, on one hand, and on another, Lora’s
phone is usually taken away by her parents. She isn’t exactly what
one would consider to be a “role model”.
“Oh, yeah,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting mine. “I broke up
with him. Last night, actually. Saw that he was texting some girl.
And not just normal texting, either.” ** Her voice quivered slightly. I
knew she was ready to cry, so I paused the darn movie and—
“That son of a—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Dont. He’s not even worth that word.” She pauses for a moment,
seemingly deciding something. Then she spoke again, her voice
more controlled. “Honestly, I saw the signs. I just chose to ignore
them. But you know what? It’s all good now. He got what he
deserved.” She sighed slightly.
“Okay, well…” I start to say, but I realize I didn’t really have any
advice for her. Lora Jean was confident and beautiful. Blonde hair,
bright blue eyes. Gorgeous. She stood out.
Not necessarily the smartest, but she could convince a homophobe
to become gay. She just had that magic to her.
Me, on the other hand…I don’t really know. I put effort into my
appearance, and I thought my features were okay. But.
But.
No matter how hard I try, nobody sees me as more than a friend.
No more than that smart, popular girl. I act like it doesn’t bother me
all the time. “I don’t need a man,” I’d joke.
It does bother me. “Well, Lora, that just shows you that you can do
better,” I say simply.
‘Shows you that you can do better?’ I mentally curse myself. What
kind of shart am I saying? I just need to stop talking sometimes,
even if I haven’t started talking yet.
“I know,” she says, smiling slightly. “What about you? Have the
guys finally come to their senses and started chasing you?”
I let out a scoff. “I don’t think they’re into short brunettes these
days,” I say. I get up to go refill the popcorn that we’ve been eating.
Without the movie.
“Oh, come on,” she calls from the living room. “What the hell is
wrong with the guys at your school? Are they blind?”
I let out a real laugh at that. I shuffle back in, now attempting to
balance the bowl with two Coke cans. Neither of us like to drink
alcohol. Genetics or whatever.
“Not blind,” I say, handing her one of the Cokes and settling back
into out little sofa-pillow-blanket mound.
“Welllllll…” she says, dragging on the word long enough for me to
be suspicious. I raise an eyebrow, cocking my head slightly.
“What?” I ask.
“There’s this one guy I know…” she says, and she can tell Im ready
to shut her down real fast, because she speeds up her talking. “Just
hear me out! He’s 5”10’, plays basketball, and seems interested. And
he’s not an idiot, either. I’ve had a good amount of convos with
him.”
“Lora,” I say, setting down my Coke and pursing my lips in thought,
“what have I told you about scouring for potential boyfriends for
me?”
She extends her neck slightly, jutting her chin out as she argues.
“I’m telling you, this guy likes short girls, likes brunettes, and smart
ones.” She smiles mischievously. “And it wouldn’t hurt to mention
that he’s freaking hot.”
I roll my eyes, tucking my feet underneath me as I playfully tug the
popcorn bowl out of her hands. “He’s hot?” I mock. “Dang, that
really seals the deal.”
She gives me a pouty face. “I’m serious. He isn’t my type,
personality-wise, but oh my freaking god.” She lets out a little laugh
that, if this weren’t Lora speaking, would make me question her
insanity. “I am begging you. Give him a shot.”
I sigh in defeat. “Fine,” I say.
Just to clarify…I haven’t had any boyfriends. I’ve gone on a couple
dates with guys at Lora’s school. But none of them were my type.
They must’ve felt the same way, because both times, I never
bothered to call back, and neither did they.
She giggles. “Alright then,” she says, smiling, and I wonder whether
she truly did just forget about the conversation we had minutes
earlier or if she’s just pushed it away.
~~~
Hours later, Im staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint sound of
Lora’s breathing in her bed. I’m sleeping on her couch. She
somehow convinced her parents to let her get rid of her desk an
replace it with a freaking couch. In her bedroom.
I smile. That’s her power. She can convince anyone to do anything.
I roll over onto my shoulder, only to suddenly remember that oh,
yeah, I’m on a couch. I let out a slight “oof” as my body makes a
thud on the floor.
I stand up to go to the bathroom. Not that I need to go. Just to do
something, even though it’s 3:12 in the morning.
I open the bathroom quietly as to not wake up Lora.
I stare at my reflection when I click on the light.
Hair hasn’t miraculously changed. Nope. Still that same medium
brown. Still bone-straight.
Eyes haven’t changed, either. No surprise. Still so dark they look
black.
Lips aren’t any bigger than the semi-thin size they are.
I don’t even want to think about other body parts.
I frown at my reflection. It’s not that I don’t like the way I look, it’s
that I don’t like that I don’t stand out? I don’t know. I’m tired. I
need to sleep.
If only I could sleep, I think to myself as I scour the medicine cabinet
for Meletonin. I finally find some, the gum kind, then lazily read the
label even though I know d@mn well how many I take. I pop them
into my mouth, shut off the bathroom light, and stumble back to my
sleeping spot.
Chapter 2
Most of the day is spent lounging around Lora’s house, watching
movies and talking about this girl I saw at the store or this dude
who thought he could call me blah, blah, blah.
At around 5:30, I remember that I have a life outside of this home-
alone paradise. “Agh, shart, Lora, I’ve gotta go,” I say, checking my
phone to find a “come home” text from my mother.
“Awwwwwwww!” Lora complains, but she knows better than to try
and convince me to stay.
My mom would not be happy.
I put my bag in my car and get in. She leans into my open window
and says her awfully long goodbyes until I finally laugh and tell her I
really gotta leave. But before I can roll up my window, her phone
chimes.
She takes it out of her back pocket, takes one look, and smiles.
“Well, I guess you’re going on a date,” she smirks. “Ben just texted
me.”
I’m a little confused for a moment,but then I catch on. “His name is
Ben?” I repeat. She gives me his number, not that I’m actually going
to text him he for we meet in person.
“Yeah, Ben Jackson,” she finally says. “Let’s see…he made the
mistake of letting me choose where y’all go. Hey, don’t look at me
like that.” She laughs and waves a dismissive hand at me as if to
wipe my worried look off my face. “I’ll text you two the info. Don’t
worry.”
I drive home in silence because I just don’t want noise while I think.
I live about thirty minutes from Lora on a good traffic day. That’s
why I can’t visit her all the time.
His name is Ben, I think, and he might be interested in me.
Emphasis on ‘might’. The moment he meets me, he’ll be out the
door. Too basic, he’ll think.
I stop myself right there. “Woah, Dani,” I tell myself, grip tightening
on the wheel, “don’t jump to conclusions.”
When I get home, my dad is in the kitchen, cooking. I throw my
keys into the “key basket”, a basket in which we store—you guessed
it—our keys. Not all of the, though. Just out car an spare house
keys.
“You’re home,” my dad says as I make my entrance, as if I didn’t
realize that myself.
“That she is,” my mom says cheerfully, walking in through the back
door. Her clothes are muddy from garden work, “how are you,
sweetheart?” I shrug, and she comes over go hug me, but stops at
the second, remembering just how muddy she really is. “Oops,
sorry, let me go get cleaned up.”
She removes her garden boots gingerly and places them by the door
as not to mess with the floors. Dad’s always super particular about
the floors.
When my mom is upstairs, my dad looks at me, pausing his stirring
of the pasta for a second—only to start it up again. He opens his
mouth to ask something, then closes it again. “Make sure you’re
ready for school tomorrow,” he ends up saying. “It’s already 6:00.”
I nod, walking to the cabinet to grab a glass. “Okay,” I respond
simply. I fill my glass with some water and take a small swig. An
awkward silence falls over the two of us, just like always. Well, not
always. A few months ago, we got in this big fight. And ever since,
even though we already “made up”, nothing between us has been
the same. Truly, I wouldn’t be surprised if we never had a normal
conversation again.
My mom comes back downstairs, now in some new, clean clothes.
My mom is so pretty. She has my same features…but for some
reason, hers just fit. She walks over a gives me the promised hug.
She then walks over to my dad and gives him a quick kiss. “Alright,
you two,” she says, “start up an actual conversation, maybe? I can
feel the tension.”
I roll my eyes lightly, smiling. My mom, no matter what she says,
always makes me feel better. My mom catches sight of this and
wags a finger at me. “Hey, dont roll your eyes at me, young lady,”
she says, though it’s more playful than a warning.
When supper is ready, we all sit down at the table. “Go get your
sister,” my dad says as he places the pasta dish on the table.
I just nod. I walk up the steps, taking my sweet time. I don’t want to
go back downstairs. “Kacey,” I knock on my sisters bedroom door,
my voice louder than it really needs to be. “Come downstairs.
Dinner’s ready.” She doesn’t respond, so I repeat my message. This
time, its accompanied by a couple not-so-nice words.
Kacey swings open her bedroom door before I can begin a third
round. “Can you please just shut up?” She hisses before ducking
under my outstretched arm and going down the stairs. I laugh
menacingly.
“No, actually, I can’t,” I call down the stairs as I begin my descent.
Dinner is pretty quiet, as usual. Ever since that fight…
Mom continuously tries to get us work up a conversation, even if it’s
just between my sister and me. “Girls, how were your days?” She
asks, though she knows exactly how they went.
“Fine,” my sister says, looking down at her food, before reaching to
take a sip from her water glass.
“It was okay,” I say, but I actually bother to give my mom a small
smile. I then shoot a look at my sister, who just shrugs. Then I
remember what Lora texted about the date. I really don’t want to
have to talk about it, but I don’t have much other choice. I set down
my fork gingerly, then say, “Uh, mom, dad, Im going out on Friday.”
My mom must not catch the tone of my voice, because she simply
replies, “Oh, that’s nice, sweetie, where are you going?”
My dad…his expression changes. I think he can tell what I’m about
to say.
“Well, uh, there’s this guy from Lora’s school. He, uh, wondered if
I’d be willing to go out with him or something like that. So, uh, I
have nothing else to do at the moment, so, uh, yeah…” my voice
trails off when I realize how quiet my family got. Even my sister was
staring at me. It’s probably because those two dates I went on were
two years ago.
“Diana?” My mom says quietly, “are you sure?”
I’m taken back. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask, flabbergasted.
My mom purses her lips slightly, then uses her napkin to gently
wipe her mouth. She looks at my dad, who offers no help, so she
sighs. “We were worried you were, uh, lesbian or something. You
haven’t dated in two years.”
I’m absolutely shocked. “Why would you—” I stop myself, taking a
breath to calm down. “Just because I’m not dating a guy, doesn’t
mean Im a freaking lesbian.”
“Honey, I know that—” my mom starts, but this time it’s my dead
who cuts her off.
“Listen, Diana. Go on the date. We are not going to go into…other
subjects that truly don’t matter in this conversation.” As much as I
want to argue…to let myself be mad at my parents for not even
bothering and just assuming…I don’t want to do something stupid. I
take my plate and put it in the dishwasher. Before I go upstairs, I
pace back to the dining room.
“I don’t appreciate that you didn’t even bother to ask.” I practically
growl, then I run up the stairs, making sure not to slam my door
behind me. They don’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing Im mad.
To be honest, Im probably making this sound worse than it is. I’m
mad, and I’m a teenage girl. Not a good combination. I take a quick
shower, throw on some pajamas, and go to the sink to brush my
teeth.
As I do so, I check my reflection like I do way too often.
Same hair, same eyes, same lips, I think as I squeeze the toothpaste
onto my toothbrush, same basic girl.
Chapter 3
I wake up to the god-awful sound of my phone’s alarm. School, I
think.
I stumble through my morning routine. Why am I so tired? I didn’t
take any Meletonin last night…
Breakfast is awkward. My mom’s already at work, so it’s just my
sister an me eating the waffles my dad cooked. Now, my dad is
reading the newspaper. He checks his watch multiple times. He
always drives Kacey to school since she’s only in 8th grade, and her
school is on his way to work. My high school is on the other side of
town.
When I get to school, I go to my first class: Calculus. I hate starting
the day with math. I take out my math notebooks (yes, plural) and
start working some of the problems Dr. Cannon has written on the
board. He then randomly picks students to demonstrate how to
solve those problems. Just my luck, I get assigned the second one.
I walk up to the board reluctantly, and I pick up the dry erase
marker as if its a bomb that could go off any second. I copy my
solution onto the board, right in between to problems 1 and 3.
Mr. Cannon walks up and reviews each answer. Then, he smiles.
“Right, wrong, right, right, right.” My problem was the only one
that was wrong.
~~~
“Rough morning?” Mason asks as I sit down next to him at our
lunch table.
I sigh. “Exactly,” I respond. Multiple other girls and guys come up to
take their rightful spots at our table.
“Hey guys,” I say, forcing a smile. There’s probably fifteen others.
We’re all “popular”, though not the snobby popular. At our school,
there’s those two kinds. The “snobby pops” and the “nice pops”.
Were the nice pops.
I love my lunch group—especially Mason. They)re all so fun and
funny. Never a dull moment. The only thing is that many of the
people in our friend group are dating: Marcia and Greg, Julia and
Hawk, Grace and Johnnie…they never talk about it, though. At
least, not when I’m around.
Mason can tell something’s off with me. So when our lunch group
breaks up into out smaller groups as usual, he “investigates”.
“Alright, Dani,” he smiles, leaning against the brick wall under the
shade of our favorite school tree, “something happened. What is it?”
Nobody bats an eye when Mason and I go around together. He’s my
best guy friend. Nothing more. And I’m his best girl friend (two
words, not one, people). Nobody has pressured us to date or
anything for good reason.
“Well…” I start, not knowing where to begin. I lean against the
trunk of our tree, playing with a lock of my basic hair.
He smirks. “Come on, Dani, spill it.”
I sigh. “Lora found this guy. She says he’s the one for me or some BS
like that. She…convinced me to go on a date with him Friday.”
Something like surprise creeps over Mason’s face, but he quickly
hides it. “Wow,” he jokes, “you’re finally letting someone have a go
at that tough heart of yours?”
I shake my head, smiling. “Don’t even,” I say playfully.
He puts his hands up, surrendering. “Alright, alright,” he says.
~~~
The rest of the week is a drag. My classes have never felt longer.
But by the time Friday afternoon rolls around, I realize my classes
weren’t nearly long enough.
Lora is making us go to Jackson’s, this burger joint downtown that
everyone loves. I find it funny that this Ben dude has the same last
name.
I look through my closet for a descent outfit to wear on a first date.
I realize, horribly, that I don’t have many options. Mental note, go
shopping for date-worthy clothes, I think. I pause. “Bold of you to
think we’re getting past this first date,” I mumble aloud to myself as
I slip on a light pink dress and some platform sandals. I put on my
makeup and head downstairs.
I try to slip out of the house unnoticed, but my mom catches me.
“Oh, honey, Jo look gorgeous,” she praises as if she didn’t tell my
she thought I was a lezzi the other day.
“Thank you,” I say, but my tone makes it obvious I don’t mean it.
My mom takes a visible step back, but doesn’t reprimand me.
“Stay safe, hon,” she says, and before I fully shut the door, I hear
her say more quietly, “and, please, don’t do something stupid.”
I drive there to the sound of faint Taylor Swift. When I drive, I
usually turn my music up loud enough T that I can hear it but not
loud enough for me to really think of it as more than background
noise.
When I get to the restaurant, I park my car. Before I get out, I check
my mascara and blush for any errors, then step out. I lock my car
and walk inside.
The atmosphere of the joint is rowdy but calm, crowded but vacant.
It’s everything at once. That why people like it here. I go up to the
counter.
“Hi, ma’am, is Ben Jackson here? I’m meeting him.” The lady looks
me up and down, and for some reason, seems to be judging. Hard.
“You’re meeting him?” She repeats. I don’t like her attitude.
“You heard what I said,” I say calmly.
“No, he’s not here yet,” she says, then tells me to wait in the “lobby”
of sorts. It’s a big restaurant.
I’m busy paying attention to the decorations, so I don’t notice him
come up behind me at first. I feel a tap on my shoulder, then turn
around, only to take a step back. Lora was right. This guy is tall.
“I’m Ben Jackson?” He says, smiling, though he phrases his
introduction as more of a question.
It takes me a moment to get myself together. “Uh, yeah. Im Diana
Grant.” I try to smile back, but I’m speechless.
He must understand, because he helps us get our table. Like a
freaking gentleman, he pulls out my seat for me. He smiles and asks
me how I’ve been. Tells me about himself; the basketball, the
height, and that his family actually owns this joint.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. “Really?” I ask, feeling a bit dumb.
All my answers have been one or two word answers.
He nods. “Yep.” He takes a sip from his water glass. We talk a bit
more, but my answer still remain short and, in reality, no that
sweet. Not mean or anything, but I’m mentally cursing myself
because I can’t talk right.
But how am I supposed to talk when I’m speaking to the most
beautiful guy I’ve ever seen?