Ivy

A purpose. Something most, if not all, people want, need, or have in life. Something that pushes 50% of people to do something great for the world. And for the other 50%, something bad. Of course, neither of these percentages are correct, in most people's eyes, it was good at one point or another, at least for one person. 

After many years, I have come to the verdict that having a purpose wasn't something I would be able to achieve. No matter how bad I wanted or wished for it. So I stopped wanting. I stopped wishing.

People also like to believe that everything they do in their life was for some sort of favorable reason. At the time of performing the act they were thinking something along the lines of, 'oh gee, let me go ahead and do this, it will all work out great and help whatever problem I'm trying to fix.' And then, by the time they have completed the act, everything goes amiss. But in their head, it was still a good deed. They still did it for a good reason.

It has been revealed to me that my good act was indeed, not a good act at all. It's what messed everything up.

My name is Ivory Blair. Which is a completely senseless and short-sighted name if you ask me. I have come to the conclusion that my parents had been drunk the night they decided to choose my name. 

I have never met a single other 'Ivory' and don't believe I ever will. If I did I'd be shocked and say to the poor soul, "I am so sorry. Your parents must have been drunk on the night of your naming too." And would give them a tremendous amount of gifts in the sorrowful occasion.

Which is why I go by the name Ivy. True, I don't meet any other people by that name either, however, it sounds way more like me than my actual name does, so I like it better.

Standing in front of me was a full-length mirror, decorated with stickers, drawings, and any other marks that it had received from the different stages of my life. Girly girl, tomboy, emo, the first time I liked someone, the first time I found out that person didn't like me back, almost every part of my life had left some sort of imprint on this mirror. Which is why I hated it.

I was wearing my blue-skinny jeans that had rips at random points between my hip bone and knee. Some of those rips had come store bought, some from the way I overwore the two-legged fabric. It had four silver buttons leading up to right above my belly button. Yes, I was wearing high rise jeans. When I was thirteen I remember thinking anyone who wore jeans that went past their belly button was bound to fail in life. I can't tell if I still believe in that statement or not.

Tucked into the jeans was my lavender T-shirt that had the words, 'Shut up and give me pizza' across my chest. An inspirational quote if you ask me. I also had on my converse that had once been a pure white, but now looked like a dirty and muddy gray. My intensely red and curly hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, away from my face so that the wind outside wouldn't force it to suffocate me.

I looked myself up and down in the mirror sucking in my cheeks, making myself look like a fish. Shrugging, I decided I was satisfied with the way I looked. I didn't bother to put on any makeup, I knew there was no one at school who would care about what my face looked like. The first and only, thing everyone saw when they looked at me was my hair. For some reason having dyed bright red hair made me unscathed from societies rules of a perfect face.

I grabbed my phone, shoving it in my back pocket, and snatched my backpack off the floor while quietly opening my bedroom door. Before I exited I grabbed one of those small metal things that worked as keys on any inside doors from my dresser top. Then locked the door and closed it behind me as I retreated from my alone space.

I then continued to walk as quietly as possible down the narrow hallway of my house. We had no furniture in this hallway, for there wasn't enough space to fit any. On the walls were outlines of boxes that pictures had once been placed, leaving a fade on the parts they had touched.

I finally made it to the end of the hallway, where I saw the door to the right partially cracked open. Inside I could see the old toys, blankets, clothes, and a bed that had been left behind. My dad must have fallen asleep in there again.

I sighed as I grabbed a blanket from the closet in the hallway, before hesitantly walking into the room. I flipped the light switch off and walked over to my dad who was passed out on the bed meant for a child. I laid the blanket across him and began to leave the room.

I looked back behind me and took in the sight of him sleeping. He looked peaceful, but even when he was asleep he looked sad. But sometimes sad was better than angry.

------------------------------------

School. A place most people hate, but some people love. I could never decide which side I was on.

The hallways were bustled with people. Some walking as slow as possible, hoping if they walk slow enough class will be done before they get there, some walking fast as hell wishing the slow people didn't exist. Some trying to take a nap against the lockers before class, then some making out against those same lockers before class started. And of course, the many other types of people floating around the tightly packed hallway.

I had tucked myself away from the forever moving crowd, waiting at my small, and now stuffed locker, for the sweetest person to ever live. And when I say ever I mean Ever. No pun intended.

"Ivy! Oh my god I love your outfit," my sunshine faced friend yelled at me from across the hallway. This was Ever. My best friend since the first grade. When I had moved here Ever had made it her job to swoop me up under her wing and introduce me to every single person she knew. Which were a lot of people.

She was the reason I had gotten to be friends with everyone I knew and loved today.

Ever found her way over to me and gave me her classic, I know I saw you yesterday but I still missed you, hug. Ever was a girl on the taller side, being a couple inches taller than me. She had gorgeous brunette hair that she turned to an ombre look by dying the end half a blonde. She had deep brown eyes, a button nose, and a perfectly straight-teeth smile, thanks to the braces she had worn for all of middle school and freshman year.

She pulled away, grinning at me. "That quote defines my life," she declared gesturing towards the quote on my shirt.

I crinkled my nose, "I know right!"

She made a motion that indicated she was laughing, but it was covered up by the ever so loud bell that indicated, get your butts to class, or get detention.

I groaned, rolling my eyes and we began walking to our first periods that we sadly, didn't have together.

"You know we should like, complain to the office or, principal, or guidance concealer," her eyebrows furrowed, "or whoever it is that makes our schedules until they give in and make it so we have every single class together."

"If only, Ev, if only."

She gave me a side hug as we made it to her classroom, "Goodbye forever my bestie for the restie," I laughed at her dramatic goodbye, "until third period!" And then she disappeared into her classroom, leaving me alone to race to my lovely class, calculus.

Now I'm not saying I don't like or appreciate math. It's more so that math doesn't like or appreciate me.

In my math class are all of the people I would prefer not to be in a class with. The sluts who like to think they are better than everyone else because they get laid the most, the boys who are the guy version of the sluts, the people who think they know everything, and the people who spend the entire class asking questions that make me want to die of annoyance. It's also my only class that none of my friends are in. Aren't I lucky?

As I attempted to walk into the room I was pushed out of the way by a shoulder covered with a leather jacket. Alec Rainey. The school's designated bad boy. He was practically labeled, bad news - approach with caution, which is probably why most of the girls in the school wanted him. He was dangerous. You couldn't tell if he was gonna make or break your heart, which made him an exciting challenge to the many many idiots at this school.

"Excuse you," I glared at the back of his messy, ebony black hair.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, giving me a sight of his tensed jawline that could do the job of a knife, and green eyes that could make anyone's insides tie up in knots. He chuckled quietly as he looked me up and down, "Fuck off, princess."

I rolled my eyes and glanced down at my hands pretending to inspect them, "How sad, I don't have enough middle fingers for you today." I shrugged and pouted my lip out, feigning disappointment, before walking past him, making sure to hit his shoulder with mine in the processes.

As I sat down in my seat I looked up to see him staring at me, eyebrows furrowed, still in front of the room. He was inspecting me as if trying to come to a conclusion on if I was worth the effort or not.

I lifted my eyebrow and gave him a wave with a sarcastic smile, to which he didn't give any sign of processing. I rolled my eyes and looked over to the teacher who had just entered the room, telling Alec to go to his seat.

Alec looked me up and down once more before walking over to his seat in the back of the room. 

I could already tell this class was going to suck more than usual. 

Thanks for choosing to read this book! I hope you haven't been disappointed so far!

xoxo

Sara