Alright, so we all know and can agree very easily that the first day of school is probably the most awkward, weirdest and tense day in history and it just repeats itself every year. I think that is a pretty clear and agreeable statement.

            But do you know what’s even worse than that? I can tell you right now: your first day of school in freshman year of high school, starting in November. That’s right! My first day of school is tomorrow and I can’t even begin to tell you or unravel my nerves about how scared I am.

            There’s truly no reason to be—it’ll be the same people from middle school, I still have my group of friends that I love and I am definitely going to try out for cheer for the winter season. But still. I’m going to show up and everyone will be like “Ehmagawd where have ya been?!” “OMG did you hear that Baby Gantz is back!” or “Wow, Zayne’s sister got fat…” but whatever. I know that this just has to be done.

            I’m not some sort of drop out, by the way. Nothing like that. It’s just last year, when I was in eighth grade, I was signed onto a modeling contract in Australia. So my mom let me leave school (I was home schooled for ten months) and we had to go to Australia so I could pursue this opportunity! Which, by the way, was absolutely incredible. The agency had contacted me last October, which is now a year ago, and I had the most amazing time. The contract was supposed to last only for three months, but after I finished their Summer catalogue I was picked up by a company in New York which sent me to London for six months. Let me tell you, London was absolutely incredible. I loved every second of it. After London, my contract had expired so they wanted to renew it but I was offered to do a commercial for a clothing line in California, so I chose that instead. I spent a month in California and ended up doing three different commercials: one for clothing, one for perfume and another for jewelry. It was an amazing experience. During that month I was offered to go to Paris for a runway show, so of course I hopped on that opportunity and I have just spent the last three months, since August, in Paris.

            I know, I know, I’m lucky. It’s been such an incredible year. I did a lot of work in Paris: four runway shows, nine magazine COVERS, three Parisian commercials and I was a brand representative for a huge clothing department there—they sent me to Greece for a week when they branched out their new shop. Truly beautiful.

            During this whole run around the globe, my mom came with me. She had to. She wasn’t about to let her then-fourteen year old daughter go across the world on her own. So she came with me, and to be frank, I was glad. I was really nervous and scared since I hadn’t really modeled before and I knew I was pretty—skinny, high cheek bones, long legs—that kind of anorexic, skinny-girl model type. I was always insecure about my body since I wanted to be like my older sister, Kim. Kim had curves and huge boobs and abs and a big ass and all the guys loved her in high school. That’s what I wanted. I wasn’t anorexic, I actually ate a lot, but I never gain weight and I can’t just force my body type. I’m grateful for what I have though. I developed some more, actually have boobs and my butt is starting to shape. I’m grateful.

            My dad had to stay home since he is a partner at a law firm. He was really proud of me though and was grateful that he had my mom to come along with me. He came and visited us in Australia for two weeks with my brother, Zayne. They spent Christmas and New Years with us last year in Australia. When we were in England, my mom flew to the Caribbean for Valentine’s day and spent the weekend there with my dad. I was left alone, but at that point I already had a personal assistant who was around my mom’s age so that’s who was left to “take care” of me. The only time I was able to go back to North Carolina was in April, when Easter came. I was happy to fly back home for the weekend and spend it with my family—my siblings all missed me dearly, I was able to see two of my best friends and then I had to go back to England. In July, when I was in California, one of my best friends flew over to see me (since my mom paid for her ticket). Kylie and I had an amazing time together for that week. She came with me to all my shoots and my hairdresser and makeup artist loved her and she loved them. We had a fabulous time and I wish she could’ve stayed longer. I always Skyped with my girls, my sister Kim and my dad. I love them all to death and couldn’t have asked for better support.

            The past few months we’ve been in Paris so my dad came for a week and a half with my sister, her boyfriend, my older brother Keith, his girlfriend Penny, Pappy, and my best friend Kylie. We all had a really good time while they were here and my mom didn’t even ask any questions when Kylie and I were coming home with my siblings at seven am the next day. It was so much fun!

            My dad picked my mom and I up from the airport Monday morning and now it’s Wednesday. I didn’t really want to leave—I’ve made tons of friends from all over the place and I miss them so, so much. Of course we’re all friends on Facebook now and they follow my Instagram. But still. We had so many late nights’ together and early mornings and I will miss all of them with all my heart and I hope that they’ll find the time to come visit me this year.

            I honestly do love modelling—it’s not that I don’t. I would’ve signed on again to be in Paris or I got a few other offers—a company in Japan, a runway show in Italy or a swimsuit catalogue in Hawaii. I wanted to go, I did, but I just felt so burnt out from Paris. It’s so hard to constantly be working while trying to maintain schoolwork. It’s so hard to be away from my dad and my family and friends. I miss them. And not only that, but I feel bad for my mom. She had to give up so much time away from her other kids and from my dad and from her own mom so I felt a bit guilty. I know she loves me no matter what and supported me 1000% on whatever I wanted to do. So I figure why not go back to North Carolina, and maybe I’ll fly out on some weekends to do small projects rather than be away from everyone for months at a time.

            When my dad picked us up from the airport on Monday he was probably the happiest guy to ever live. He was so grateful that we were home safe and sound and that he had his wife back. I think my mom was pretty happy too, she was probably homesick although she never said a word to me about it.

            After we loaded our suitcases (seven of them) into the family van, I was so happy to be back home and to go back to my street and to see all my friends. We stopped at a diner just a town over because my mom was extremely hungry and hates airplane food. I didn’t really eat because I was so excited to go home and to see my brothers and sister.

            This weekend we are going to have a Welcome-home party for me. I’m excited about that. My parents really are the best.

            After the diner my parents and I got back in the van and it really felt like an eternity before we reached my house—I nearly bawled when I got home to see balloons and my three best friends—Melanie, Laura and Kylie all waiting outside on my porch for me.  They all skipped school so that they could see me!

            We spent Monday relaxing. They helped me unpack my stuff and they encouraged me to tell them some of my stories, which I didn’t even know where to begin because of so many crazy nights. At around seven o’clock that night my sister Kim came home from work and then Lucas came over—her boyfriend—and I was so happy to see them! They’re honestly my favorite couple and we always have a good time together. Melanie and Laura had to go home for supper at around that time and Kylie stayed over to eat dinner with us. Later that night Keith came home and greeted me and had gotten me a special gift, which ended up being tickets to a basketball game in Charlotte. I’m kind of excited about that, since it will be Keith, Kim, Lucas, Zayne and I going to see the game.

            Yesterday I went to the mall with my mom and we shopped for clothes, she let me get a blow-out for school and we got our nails done together. We picked up Kylie from school at three o’clock and we all went and saw a movie together. Then last night I joined Kylie at her yoga class that she goes to (I didn’t know she started yoga!) and we all went home and she slept over.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

            So this morning Kylie went to school and I stayed home another day because I was too tired and didn’t feel like seeing everyone from school. My mom told me that I am going tomorrow no matter what my excuse is of not going, and I told her fine and agreed to it. I might as well.

            It’s almost six o’clock at night now, and—

“Em!?” I hear a shout from downstairs. I get up, placing my journal on the bed and run over to the balcony that overlooks my living room.

“What?” I ask softly. Why are they yelling?

“Let’s go to The Teacup.” I groan. I don’t want to go to The Teacup but Kim wants me to… so I guess I will.

“Fine.” I run back into my room and grab a cardigan. It’s still warm outside, but sometimes at night it gets a bit chilly.

            I walk downstairs and loop my arm through Kim’s and we leave.

“I can’t even believe you’re going to be a freshman in high school,” Kim says to me. I roll my eyes.

“I’m already a freshman, I just need to go to school,” I correct her. She laughs.

“Right, right. I remember my high school years. Let me tell you this much baby girl: don’t waste a single moment. High school is the fucking bomb. Drink a lot but to the point where you’re still walking and you’ll be fine,” now it’s my turn to laugh.

“Let’s not forget England, or Paris for that matter…” She starts to giggle, thinking of the memory. Probably the same night that I’m thinking about right now as well.

“If we’re going to talk about Paris then I want to know if you’re still with Peter. I didn’t want to ask you as soon as you got back, but now that you’ve had…”

“We’re still together,” I say through tight lips. I don’t want to talk about it.

            “Oh okay.” Is all she says. She doesn’t want to talk about it either. So if she doesn’t want to talk about it, why bring him up at all? She changes the subject.

“Are you excited to see Pat tomorrow?” How could she even mention him!? Of course I’m not excited. He’s probably the last person I want to see.

“No.” I answer flatly. Kim is such a bitch.

“Why?” She sounds earnest, as if she doesn’t know.

“Because I have a boyfriend. And because why would I be excited to see him? He barely tried to talk to me this past year and he messed with me so much before I left. He’s a player,” I don’t want to sound angry about him; I want to sound indifferent. I don’t really care for him. I don’t.

“Ah, okay. I don’t know. I heard from people that he missed you and he’s really looking forward to seeing you.”

“That’s nice.”

            We park the car and I get out, strolling casually into The Teacup. And of course the first people I have to see are the people I hate the absolute most. Lindsay, Caitlyn and Marnie all stare at me, in shock. As if they’ve seen a ghost. I raise an eyebrow, this five-second stare down now over, and they all run up to me in excitement.

“Seriously?! Is this even real? Is this a joke? Where have you been!?” Caitlyn squeals. I don’t actually hate Caitlyn, I just hate that she’s friends with these other two bitches. They’ve always hated me—especially Lindsay. Because Lindsay’s always been so in love with Pat.

“I um… I got back Monday,” I tell them. Caitlyn hugs me and I put my arms around her gently, cautiously.

“Are you coming to school again?” Marnie asks me. She seems indifferent about me, and I nod my head yes.

“I’m going back tomorrow,” I tell them.

“Yay! What hour do you have lunch?”

“Eleven o’clock,”

“Perfect! You can sit with us tomorrow, if you want,” Caitlyn says excitedly. Lindsay is giving her the nastiest glare. Suddenly, she turns to me and says:

“Oh, that’d be good. You can tell us all about your adventures,” She says with a smile that reminds me of how a predator feels when it’s about to eat their prey. I nod, “yeah definitely” I say flatly before returning to my sister. My sister looks at me with a smirk.

“Friendly girls, huh,” she sounds so sarcastic. I nod.

“Don’t even get me started… of course we have to run into them of all people. So annoying. Take me back to Paris.” My sister laughs and we order our coffees and croissants.

            When we return home, Kim goes into the garage because Keith’s in there with his band and I walk around to the front of our house to go inside. And, cursed by Satan himself, who is standing outside on my front porch? Pat.

“Wow,” is all he says as I approach him. I have butterflies in my stomach—or maybe I’m in knots, but I lose my voice for a second looking at him. I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He pulls me in for a hug and in those couple of seconds I feel good, I feel safe, I feel better and I want to stay like that. He pulls away and looks at me.

“You’re gorgeous.” I snort. As if I haven’t heard that before.

“Thanks.”

“Let’s catch up,” Pat says. I raise an eyebrow.

“Here?” He shakes his head, then points to a car two houses over.

“You have a car?”

“You bet I do.” He takes the keys from his pocket, jingling them, and I soon find myself in the passenger seat of his car, parked in an empty parking lot a town over.

            “SO, old friend, how has your year been?” I shrug my shoulders.

“Fantastic. And you?” I try to sound casual, as if I don’t have a bunch of stories I’m ready to spill. As if I don’t have a boyfriend I’m completely, hopelessly in love with.

“It was alright. I’m glad to be a junior in high school. I’m glad to have a car. I’m glad that football season is almost over. You really have changed,” I try to smile but I don’t know what he means. Is that good or bad?

“Uh, thanks. So have you. You look good,” I’m being completely genuine with him. He looks more than good; he looks so hot.

“Thanks, babe. You didn’t really get back to me with the Facebook messages I sent you…” he said, trying to get me to say something back. I look down.

“Yeah, sorry. I know. I was busy. And you were… far. I don’t know. I just didn’t think it was important and plus, I mean, now… you’re in a relationship, aren’t you? With Shannon?” Don’t even get me fucking started about fucking Shannon. She’s probably one of the biggest whores in South Hamelton Hills and she has fucked more guys then I can count on eight hands. I know all about it, because Kylie has kept me in the loop and been a good little spy on Pat.

            “I mean, yeah. Nothing serious though.”

“Facebook official,” I remind him. He rolls his eyes. And of course, his phone rings, and who is it? Shannon.

“You know you still want me,” he says to me in a soft tone. I laugh. Out loud.

“No, I don’t,” I say dryly.

“Yeah, you do. I see it in your eyes,” He bites his lip. Oh, he’s so… not Peter.

“It wouldn’t matter if I did. I have a boyfriend, Pat.” His face turns to ice. He looks blankly at me, but I could’ve sworn I saw a flash of despair.

“Re—really?” he stammers. He’s trying to keep his cool.

“Yeah. And he’s wonderful,” I say happily. Pat nods.

“How’d you meet? What’s his name?”

“His name’s Peter. He’s amazing, I met him in England and like… I don’t know, he’s perfect. He’s eighteen.” I smile happily and Pat gives a rough laugh.

“So he lives in England…and you live here. How will that work?” He asks skeptically. I shrug.

“I don’t know, he’s coming for Christmas, to stay. He doesn’t live in England though. He lives in New York.” Pat nods.

“Right, of course he does. And you like him?”

“Of course I do! I love him.” Yes—I definitely saw it. Pat’s face is indifferent but his eyes say it all; they look like they could have tears in them. I don’t care though. He has Shannon after all, right?

            “You… you love him?” I think he’s going to explode, he can’t hold it in much longer.

“Yeah! He’s honestly the best thing that could’ve ever walked into my life. I’m so grateful to have him be mine. And I’m all his.” I smile dreamily out the car window, while Pat’s eyes bore a hole into the side of my face because he’s staring at me so hard. I keep my eyes focused on the clouds passing in the sky.

“That’s…I’m happy for you. You do deserve to be loved by someone, as long as he treats you well. Or else I’ll kick his ass,” he says gruffly.

“Nah, you don’t have anything to do with it. I have brothers for that,” I tell him. Pat looks so riled up though and I can tell he’s hurt and I can tell that I’m pushing buttons. And I love it.

            That’s exactly what he deserves.