Playing Private Investigator

Unfortunately for all of the students residing in the South Burlington district the first day of school has finally arrived. It is 6:30 in the morning and the only person that's up in the Whitmen household is Charles. He waits five minutes before rolling out of bed and ascending the stairs. Knowing his children, they will not get up for school unless he forces them to and if that means he has to douse them with cold water then so be it. As long as they're not late, any method is fine with him. Rousing a bunch of teenagers is definitely an arduous task to have to perform every morning but it's part of being a parent. Besides, he doesn't mind. He actually finds it to be rather enjoyable. Luckily for him, however, his kids decide to cooperate with him today.

The first room Mr Whitmen goes into belongs to Cameron and Alexander. With a simple flicker of the lights, the two youngest Whitmens start to stir. "Come on boys. It's time to get ready for school!" he shouts enthusiastically, his voice booming throughout the entire house. Next, he finds his way over to Ian's room. Ripping the curtains apart, Mr Whitmen permits the natural sunlight from outside to infiltrate the place. The boy grunts in dismay and refuses to get up. Instead, he yanks the blanket over his head, hoping it will make his father go away. Mr Whitmen walks over to him and tears the covers off in return.

"Five more minutes, dad," he groans drowsily.

"Five minutes to you is equivalent to another half hour, Ian. You don't have that much time to spare. Now get your butt into the bathroom. You don't want to look sloppy for all of the girls at your school, now do you?" At the mention of girls and looking sloppy, Ian shoots up and scrambles for the bathroom. He does have an image to uphold. Sleeping can wait.

The last person who needs to be roused is Charlie. Sadly, she also happens to be the most difficult to deal with. Mr Whitmen usually has to threaten or bribe her to get her out of bed. The bargaining alone can typically take up to twenty minutes. But today he has the perfect bribe that will surely wake her up without an issue. He promises her that if she willingly gets out of bed in less than ten minutes that he'd not only let her drive to school from now on, but allow her to use the truck whenever she wants to as well. Hearing this, the girl practically jumps out of bed, her body jittering with excitement. She has always wanted her own car and even though her dad isn't technically giving her the truck, it's close enough for her.

Downstairs Mr Whitmen begins to prepare a simple breakfast. He might not be able to cook a grand feast like Bobby Flay but he has managed to pick up on a few simple tricks and life hacks over the last couple of years. It's bound to happen when you're a single father who has six kids to take care of. After toasting four bagels, Charles proceeds to smear each one with a different filling according to what each person prefers.

He slathers on some butter for Ian.

A generous amount of Nutella on Charlie's.

Cream cheese is spread on Alexander's.

And Cameron gets one with chunky peanut butter.

Once he finishes, he wraps them up individually in sheets of aluminum foil, making sure to mark which one belongs to whom. Then, he hears what resembles a stampede coming down the stairs. Charlie is the first one to enter the vicinity, followed by Alexander and Cameron and last, but certainly not least, is Ian. They all have their backpacks slung over their shoulders as they rush by the counter, snatching up their breakfast. They thank their father and say their goodbyes, their voices all mixing together. On the way out, Charlie grabs the keys, which are dangling on the hook by the door, a huge grin etched onto her face.

Mr Whitmen scurries out after them onto the porch and watches as they pile into the truck. "Just be careful!" he pleads.

"Don't worry, dad! I'll get us all there and back in one piece! I promise!" Charlie assures as she waves at him and backs out of the driveway. She hits the curb and Mr Whitmen flinches, covering his eyes. "Whoops, didn't see that there," she laughs. "Buckle up everybody. It's going to be a bumpy ride!"

After dropping Cameron off at his school, it takes Charlie ten minutes to reach Highland High School. She is able to find a vacant parking spot close to the building rather quickly and wastes no time occupying it. Compared to the other cars bordering it, the old and rusty truck seems a bit out of place but Charlie doesn't really care. A parking spot is a parking spot.

"God, do I hate your driving. I forgot how horrible you are at it. Don't you agree with me, Alex?" Ian cries once Charlie kills the ignition.

"I'm alive. That's all that matters. Well, I'm off to my find my first class. Wish me luck," Alexander declares, leaving before he'd have to pick sides.

"It's not my fault you failed your road test four times and have a weak stomach. Alex and Cam didn't complain. If you don't like it, you can walk to school, take the bus or have one of your many girlfriends scoop you up in their hot pink Buggies from now on," the girl snaps as she exits the truck. She slams the door and waits for her older brother to come out as well. When he does, she tosses her bag over her shoulder and clips the keys to her pants. "And if you're not here after five minutes, I will leave you."

"I can't believe this. You're going to be the death of my social life this year," he mutters begrudgingly before stomping off in the other direction. What? She's got other things to do. Besides, she doesn't want to be at school longer than she has to be.

Making her way through the corridors, which are already too crowded for her liking, Charlie shoves anyone who is blocking her path out of the way. She doesn't give the slightest damn about their gender, height, weight or status. Charlie hates coming to school. Don't misunderstand though. It's not the teachers or the workload she cannot stand, but the idiotic, over-dramatic students who always seem to agitate her so effortlessly. If it weren't for them, she would have no problem coming to school every day.

"Heads up!"

Charlie looks up and spots a spiraling football zooming her way. Thanks to her fast reflexes, she manages to catch the ball just before it could come into contact with her face. It would have definitely left a mark. "Wow, nice catch, Whitmen. Why don't you just join the football team already? We could use another dude like you." Antonio Rizotti, the team's quarterback, cackles as he high-fives his friends who are all howling like a bunch of hyenas. She's been attending the same school as him since she was nine and, yes, Antonio is just one of the many people Charlie cannot stand. Just because he's the school's star quarterback doesn't mean he has to be an asshole all the time.

"Maybe I'd consider it if you came out of the closet," she negotiates condescendingly.

Antonio falls silent for a moment before he speaks up and fumbles over his words. "W-what? I-I don't know what you're getting at. Just give me my ball back, queer." Looks like she's struck a nerve. Jackpot. It has never ceased to amaze Charlie how hypocritical some people could be nowadays. A smug smirk dances onto her face as she pulls out the pen she keeps stashed in her back pocket for easy access. Without another word, she penetrates the leather skin with the writing instrument. Antonio's eyes round in terror and his jaw hits the floor.

"Here you go," the girl muses as she removes the pen and tosses the deflating ball back to its owner. The expression on his face is absolutely priceless. He should have known better than to mess with her. "Next time, you should really think about the names you call people. I don't think Henry Doyels would be happy to hear you using such offensive terms." That one name has the boy's complexion paling and, with her head held high, Charlie struts by him and his posse, who in contrast to him, are more than befuddled by her remark. "Once an asshole—"

"Always an asshole." Charlie looks to her left and is greeted with a very familiar and friendly face. "Already causing trouble on the first day of school I see." Jillian Winters, one of her best friends, guffaws.

Charlie grins broadly and throws an arm around the girl's shoulders. "You know it wouldn't be the same if I didn't," she says as the two of them stroll towards their homeroom.

"God, did I miss you, Charlie," Jillian exasperates. "England was not fun without you."

"From all of the photos you sent me I'm sure it wasn't," she agrees sarcastically.

"Oh come on. Don't be like that, baby. You know I'm being honest." Jillian pouts cutely which causes Charlie to scoff.

"It's okay if you had a great time without me, Jill. I had a pretty nice summer here myself." They enter the classroom they have both gotten so accustomed to within the last two years of their high school careers and, shockingly enough, there aren't a lot of people in the room yet, leaving an abundant amount of open seats for the pair to choose from. Charlie walks over to a desk by the window and, like a lost puppy, Jillian follows her.

"Why do I find that hard to believe?" she ponders, skepticism practically oozing from her voice.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?" Plopping down into the seat, Charlie removes her bag and extracts the bagel her father had prepared. She unfolds the wrapper and drool starts to pool in her mouth as soon as the sweet smell of chocolate creeps into her nostrils. She's an addict and she's not ashamed to admit it.

"Gee, I don't know," Jillian drawls out. "Maybe it's because all you like to do is eat and sleep?"

"So?" she interjects, taking a big bite out of her bagel crammed with what she would call heaven.

"So because of this very reason I find it hard to believe that you did anything productive this summer," specifies Jillian.

"Aha." Charlie snaps her fingers and continues to speak while chewing. "I never said that I did anything productive. I just said that I had a nice summer. And a nice summer to me consists of eating and sleeping."

"Seriously, Charlie Whitmen? I can't believe you. You honestly didn't do anything fun or exciting this summer? See, I knew I should have convinced my parents to bring you along with us." Jillian snatches the bagel from her friend and sinks her teeth into it before tearing off a huge chunk for herself.

"Hey! That's my bagel!" Charlie complains as she stretches her arms out and wiggles her fingers in the air like a baby who wants her bottle. Never come between a girl and her chocolate unless you have a death wish.

"Don't be so stingy," Jillian mandates as she indulges herself with another bite, moaning quietly in content.

Charlie's lips mold into a frown as she swipes her bagel back. She shifts away in case Jillian attempts to snag it again but to her pleasure she doesn't. Jillian actually isn't even making a peep which has alarms blaring in Charlie's mind. Turning back, she finds her friend texting away on her phone. "Who are you talking to?" she asks as she moves in to catch a glimpse.

"No one!" Jillian exclaims, locking her phone and stuffing it into her pocket.

Charlie corks one brow at her peculiar behavior but brushes it off. "Okay, weirdo."

"Hey, I am not weird!"

"That's what they all say. Anyways, I'm stunned."

"Stunned?" Jillian repeats. "Why are you stunned? Did something crazy happen while I was gone?"

"Yeah." Nods Charlie. "Now that I think about it, you haven't started rambling on about any hot guys you saw this summer." Jillian's face contorts in stagnation and soon after her eyes round. Oh no, she's been caught! "Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"

"W-what?" she stammers, voice trembling. "You make it sound like I'm boy-obsessed or something." She lets out a laugh, which sounds strained, and this only heightens Charlie's suspicions. There's nothing her best friend does that can evade her keen senses. They're best friends for a reason.

"Jill, you are boy-obsessed. Are you going to tell me or do I have to go into private investigator mode?"

Jillian's lips pry apart so that she could defend herself, but no words are able to escape due to the entrance of their homeroom teacher, Mrs Brennan. "Okay people, you know the drill. Settle down. No talking until the announcements end." And, as if on cue, the bell sounding the official start of homeroom rings. She has been, literally, saved by the bell. Relief floods Jillian's entire body but when she looks up, she is startled to discover Charlie's eyes are still fixated on her. Her phone reverberates and she pulls it out. It's a message from Charlie.

Charliebear: Prepare to talk later or else. Nod if you understand.

She tucks her phone away, sighs but obediently nods her head. Since the two of them have become friends, never has she been able to hide anything from Charlie and this time proves to be no exception. Now she just has to come up with a way to spill the beans to her and, to be frank, it isn't going to be easy.