Monday morning
Dear Olivia,

Hi, again. I guess I have taken to you because I like writing. At least that's what I tell myself. It has been quite a rough night. The nightmares are back and I am afraid to close my eyes. The thought and image of Kayla is still burned in the back of my brain and it is bring me to my misery. I usually don't like asking questions, but this question keeps bugging me in the head, why can't I forget her? She was never a good sister, if it was up to her, I'm pretty sure I would be dead a long time ago. Yet that doesn't stop me from thinking of her. It's almost Easter and the faster the days pass, the more I am reminded of Kayla's death. Ramona knows this and I can tell despite her tries of hiding it. I understand, she was her best friend and it's clear she misses Kayla. It's just unnerving how sometimes she and the other cheerleaders compare me to my dead older sister. And that just proves that they preferred having Kayla than I. I don't feel any particular way about it. I mean, I won't say they are incorrect for wishing it was I who had died rather than Kayla. Kayla was funny, flirty, beautiful, wild, risk taker, always partying, loved shopping and dressing up. Overall she was sociable-the one quality I will never, nor do I want to, develop. That's okay with me, but others are trying to change that. And one of those persons is the lady who's staring at me right now as if I can't see her neon green night dress in the dark outside my door-my mom. Bye for now. I'm going for a run, my mother is creeping me out. I got a locked box to put you in, just in case you haven't figured it out yet.

AMBER

Life is a story, but will never be a sequel. And I'm good with that, as long as I'm peaceful. It isn't that I don't enjoy life, I do actually, but my way of enjoying is totally different from the way others think. And that includes sleeping with more than one strange college boys doesn't sound like fun to me. Not even the most excited grin that is apparent on Ramona's face can make me think differently.

"You what?" I ask, the blood drained out of my face at her confession. What was she thinking? Probably that was it, she wasn't thinking.

"You heard me," she says bouncing in her chair happily. "I slept with three college guys yesterday and I slept with some couple guys Saturday. I even gave one a blowjob."

Her eyes twinkle with pride and I wonder what about that is to be proud of. I mean, I am not calling names or anything, but that's a little too much. She can't be happy having to do that with guys that, I definitely know, just took her as some worthless slut. I think she is short changing herself, but who am I to judge? It's her life.

"Oh my God. I can't believe you gave him a blowjob," some brunette whose name I haven't caught on even now asks Ramona. "Wasn't it too large? Did you gag?"

At that mention, a piece of my apple got stuck in my throat and I sip a little of my freshly squeezed orange juice that Nate's mother looked about for me this morning, and coughed the food down.

The girls turned to me with concern, except the brunette who was asking Ramona the questions earlier. What is a blowjob anyways?

"It's a form of oral sex that involves the action of sucking a-" I hold up my hand to stop her.

"Did I actually say that out loud?" I inquire, swearing I had asked the question in my head. "I can't believe you would say that out loud. We're at school you know."

"Whatever," Chica, a fake blonde, who is of course another cheerleader, replies popping her pink gum. "And why are you asking us that? It isn't our mouth."

"That is so lame," Ramona responds to Chica, taking the words out of my mouth and the girl scoffs. "What's wrong with saying that  in public? A d-"

I immediately get up with my barely touched food and head out of the cafeteria throwing my food in the trash. But before I can do that, Nate grabs me with my tray in hand and drags me on to a seat beside him. Before I can inquire about his action, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and whispers in my ear.

"I think, Ramona and the minions are making your life miserable, so it's better you sit with me now."

"Why?" I ask him with a frown and he shrugs as he leans away from me and I immediately miss his warmth.

"You are getting skinnier and we can't allow that to happen, now can we?" He winks and the other guys at the table chuckle. "So eat up, Am."

I shake my head, not bothering to argue. He is right about that. I am getting skinnier. Is this a sign of stress?

A/N: Do you think Amber is stressed? With cheerleading and football(soccer) and keeping up the good grades?  Probably or probably not. You'll find out for sure in the next chapter. For now, vote and send me feedback. I really want to hear from you!

1999beauty
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