"What did Blake want yesterday?" Lura integrates me during the passing period. The sudden realization hit me that I went straight home after practice.

I mumble, "I don't know."

"What?"

"I said I don't know. I went straight home after practice."

"Abby, really? That your excuse?" She lets out a huge sigh. "Well, are you going to tell him or have you talked to him?"

"Don't plan to but if he asks I will," I placate.

"Abby, don't you think that's the reason why people avoid you? Can you just think about the other person and not think about yourself for one moment?" She rebukes.

I'm about to tell her off when Blake comes along with his hands in his pockets. "Um...can we talk?" He looks at me and then at Laura.

"Right. see ya later," hesitantly Lura heads to lunch.

"Um....so I wanted to....um did you...," he stumbles.

"Yeah, I forgot, sorry. See ya. " I start walking.

"Wait, are you mad? I didn't mean to accuse or anything, I just want to.....," he stands in front of me to stop me from walking.

"I'm sorry, ok I forgot?" I cut him off. I don't look him in the eye. I feel guilty and like an idiot for forgetting but I really don't want him on my back. I don't want to feel as stupid as I feel now. " I really didn't mean to-," he carefully explains.

"I know. But I got to go." I start to speed walk. Blake is a good guy. He really is, but I can't let him involve himself with me. He just can't.

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Lately, the topic of basketball captains has been the hot gossip of the school; And the party at Taylor's house.

"Sup, my man Taylor, how's the captain doing?" Hector greets him.

"You've been busy and didn't see you at practice yesterday," Jackie states.

"Who are you? my keeper?" He takes a seat.

"Who invited you?" He insinuates sarcastically when he sees me at the table.

"Piss off," I roll my eyes.

"Well half the table doesn't even like you, so you piss off," he gestures the rest of the table.

Taylor is the current captain of basketball. He has black hair that he combs to the back, making his dark blue eyes stand out. "When are the captains announced?" Taylor asks.

"The start of next month," Blake takes the seat next to me.

"Sup, Blake, you seem to have a dark cloud chasing you," Taylor teases.

"Senior year, school. Want me to keep on going?" Blake takes a sip of his drink. He slides a can of brisk towards me. I mumble thanks.

"If I get captain this year again, I'll throw a party. How about that?" Taylor proposed.

"It's a guarantee you'll get it," Kyra twirls a strand of hair with her finger.

Taylor smirks, "You know it."

"Then, how about we throw a basketball party instead?" Blake suggests.

Taylor grins, "I like that. Party next Saturday then."

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Winter is my favorite season, it's cold but thoughtful. Many mysteries are found within the air of winter. Usually, I either walk to school or take the bus, but during the winter walking is ideal. I approach the mailbox with the number 264, which actually should say 294. I look over to the driveway and see a black car. I look around and enter the house. As I take off my winter gear, I hear nothing; it's too quiet. I pause and take off my shoes, then head towards the living room. I see Jess watching TV.

"Where were you?" An icy cold voice asks from across from the living room.

I swallow, "I decided to walk." I try to pace my breathing, "You said you'll be home yesterday-"

"So? this is my home, not yours" she stops cutting lemons and looks at me, "next time don't be late."

Mrs. White is the reason I didn't meet Blake yesterday; she doesn't let me out nor allow anyone over. She gives me 10 mins to get home and no more. She barely gives me 3 meals a day. On the bright side, she's almost never at home but when she is, she makes sure I remember she's here. Mrs. Peyton White is 32. She has brown eyes and brown hair; she almost always has her hair in an updo bun or a low ponytail. Although I don't know what she does for a living, she is almost never at home.

"Mom, can I have a juice box," Jessica comes in and asks. I wince at the word mom.

"Sure, here you go, now go on," she smiles, and it fades once Jess is out of the kitchen. "Now go," she shoos me away.

I lay on my bed and rub my eyes a bit. I share a room with my sister even though there are other extra rooms available. Mrs. White is actually very pretty and young but is not fond of me. She treats my sister fairly well, but she can change personalities quickly when it comes to me. I take out my homework for English class and change the last sentence of my poem. It never occurred to me that writing could relieve what you could not say. I re-read my poem. I close my eyes and rest my head on my pillow. Out of nowhere my door swings open. Before I open my eyes, my hair is yanked. I fall off the bed and get dragged out of my room, into an empty room. I looked up while touching the part where my hair was almost ripped off. My eyes begin to water from the pain. Mrs. White is standing, looking very disturbed.

"Where is it?" she hisses.

"What?" I pant.

"Before I left it was here, where is it," she approaches me, grabbing my arm.

I begin to stutter, "I don't know I didn't take anything-."

She cuts me off, trying to keep her voice down, "It didn't just disappear now, did it? What do you take me for?"

I gather a bit of strength and look at her, " I didn't take anything."

She heads towards the door. Before she leaves, she turns to say bitterly, "you will not have dinner, tonight."

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It's Monday, a new morning, a new start, some would say, but for me at least is another day to just live. Trying to rush to class for the hundredth time, I bump into several common shoulders. I enter the class and take my seat next to Lura.

"How's the weekend?" Lura raises her eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" I ask as I take my notebook out.

"Oh, nothing. Blake gives you a drink and I obviously think nothing of it," she says sarcastically. she continues, "Anyway, what are you wearing to the party? Do you know what! I just had a great idea? let's go shopping."

I hesitate, " I don't know"

Lura shakes my arm playfully, "Come on! it will be fun."

Before I could argue, Mrs. Jones starts the lesson.