⚐Methodical⚐
orderly or systematic in thought or behavior.

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The darkened room felt almost refreshing as I pulled my body forward, slumping against my knees as I let out a breath I had been holding. The cold of the garage made a small portion of fog in front my lips. For once, I was thankful for the cold mornings that came along with taking residence in Eastern New England.

I yawned as I stood up, pulling a hoodie over my sports bra as I zipped it up halfway, knowing Louis would be off to work soon as I moved towards the door, opening it slowly and walking throughout the short hallway. In a small rush, I jogged up the stairs. I used all my agility not to make much sound, knowing most of our neighbors were hungover, and would hate to have the disturbance of the only waking teenager in the building stomping on the carpet stairs.

I quickly pulled the apartment keys from my pocket, unlocking the door and slipping into my home. My stomach growled as I flicked on the kitchen lights. They illuminated some of the cool darkness of the house and showed me the way as the sun barely shone through the windows.

I walked the hardwood floors, towards the kitchen as I grabbed an apple from the fruit basket. I pulled myself up and sat on the counter, scratching the back of my neck tiredly.

I heard the sound of shuffling, and then footsteps coming from the hall as I heard a deep voice,

"Practicing I see?" I nodded, glancing over towards my parental guardian, who was currently hidden by the shadows of the night, "Good, the streets have been getting heavy recently. More demand, more fights. You know how it goes."

"Mhm," I murmured while taking a bite of the apple. Once I finished, I continued, "You can never be too safe, even though there really is no need." I could just imagine him roll his eyes as he walked out towards the fridge.

I saw the familiar caramel skin, and smiled lightly.

Louis, was my step-brother, but also took on the role of caring for me once we were left on our own.

My mom, the woman who gave me the out-of-place blonde and pale skin, had passed away from terminal cancer. It hit when I was only three, and Louis' Dad went to prison for the possession of lethal amounts of cocaine and marijuana, and the fact that his clients were almost always under eighteen.

They'd met in their early thirties, my mom had been infatuated with his daring lifestyle, and had been in an abusive relationship at the time with my own father. She left, taking me with her at a young age. Soon, she found out she was sick, and was begging for Louis' father to slow down on the selling so he could stay with her at the hospital. He didn't. And then, he was caught.

Louis has raised me since he was twenty-one, and I don't think he's missed anything major. Other than childhood... It was always safety, safety, safety. Since Louis was part-time drug dealer out on the streets (it runs in the family) and had a steady job at a small restaurant, he uses the money to save for my future college education.

Which meant the option of moving didn't seem to be in the book, at least, not until I was done with high school.

Yet, due to how I was raised, I didn't have friends.

First, the fact that my blonde hair and pale skin existed, naturally made me stand out from the various ethnicities in neighborhood, except the completely, and fully white. Of course, I wasn't the only white blonde, but I was the only one who wasn't in prostitution.

Thankfully, I had Louis, and that was enough.

I snapped out of my thoughts as my apple was taken from my hands, I frowned as I turned to look at Louis. Before I could speak, he was holding it towards me,

"Had to get your attention, you've been in La La Land recently, Shortcake." I grabbed the apple, rolling my eyes at the nickname. I hopped off the counter as I finished chewing. Anyone could clearly see why I had such a nickname.

I looked up at him, a bit miffed that I hadn't grown any taller... And haven't been, for many months now. I tried to forget the staggering difference in height as I replied to him,

"I'm always in La La Land, remember when I fell down the stairs?" He smiled, causing me to smirk as I finished my apple. While I was eating, he continued teasingly,

"And, you know, ran into a wall last week." I felt myself blush in embarrassment, hating that he brought it up.

"First of all, it was the front door. Second, I was looking down at my phone, it doesn't count." Louis chuckled, and wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled me in for what I thought was a hug, but ended up being a cruel excuse to mess up my hair.

"No!" I whined, my nails clinging to his arm for him to let me go. Yet, he didn't let up as I endured a couple more seconds of excessive cruelty towards my blonde locks, and I was released. I smacked his arm, frowning as I tried to fix whatever was left of my ponytail.

Louis laughed, the sound traveling throughout the room and bouncing off the walls, before turning around and getting something from the fridge. He grabbed a water bottle, and passed me one.

"Thanks," I muttered sourly, and he just chuckled again.

"You're welcome Blondie, now go take a shower so I can get you to school." He reminded me. I nodded, opening my bottle and already turning towards the hall to my room,

"Alright, but we have an hour, you know." I pointed out, matter-of-factly. Louis looked at me like I was a child, crossing his arms as his biceps bulged from his grey t-shirt.

"And you take at least forty minutes. Get to it, or my boss will get pissed." He mocked my tone, which made me stick my tongue out at him. He did the same, making me smile as I walked down the hall.

Like usual, things were perfectly normal.

-

I wasn't ugly, at least, not in my view point. I had plump lips, a sharp, small nose, and cheek bones that looked almost haunting if the lighting was just right. Not to add the blonde hair,  that often gave me strange looks from strangers, was soft and silky.

But I wasn't desirable either. I was too quiet, even Louis knew this. I had no friends, and no one even wanted to know more about the palest girl in school, who never did anything exciting.

I wasn't the smartest, nor prettiest, nor most daring, or kind. I was just, casual. But in a way that made me an outsider, because at Harlington High, everyone was different. Wether it was family issues, to something as unnoticeable as an accent, there was something about you that made you different.

It made you alluring.

Not just for things like relationships and advantages, but for friends as well.

I, didn't partake in that skill. I was stuck with just, me.

"Ms. Hayes."

I looked up from my notebook, seeing that there were eyes on me as my heart seemed to quicken. There was snickering as I leaned back in my chair, my voice quiet compared to the teacher's stern one,

"What?" I asked nonchalantly, tapping my fingers against my pencil, the touch calming me down slowly.

"What is the answer to question 6?" She said, gesturing towards the board. I followed her gaze, and sighed as blurred splotches were all I saw. I looked back at her, a panicked look as I squinted my eyes.

I was nearsighted, but it was too much of a bother to tell Louis. I knew he'd waste money that he earned.

"Is it..." I looked down at my paper to give myself time, "three and sixty sixth hundredths repeated?" I guessed, my voice giving my uncertainty away.

The class burst out laughing as the teacher sighed, putting her attention into silencing them as she turned away. I felt a something hit my shoulder, turning to see it was a crunched up paper ball as I bit my lip, my fingers shaking a little.

I was a bit of an airhead, and my steady B-C grades gave me away. I guess I lived up to the dumb blonde stereotypes, at least at school I did.

I didn't click with what they taught, I would think about it for a couple minutes, and then it'd drift away. Yet, when I listen to music or hear Louis say something, I revolve my mind around it for hours on end.

Thankfully, time seemed to pass by quicker. By the time I was picking up my things to leave, I'd only heard a couple hushed whispers.

"Who even was that?"

"Probably some dumb blonde."

I heard two voices behind me, turning to see the Valedictorian and her friend leaving the room. They gave me dirty looks before disappearing into the hall. I didn't react, keeping my face low as I grabbed the rest of my books, making my way out when there was a hand on my shoulder.

I faced the teacher, her expression was confused, as if she was trying to figure me out.

"Hey, Lauren? You've seemed out of it recently, are you alright?" I looked at her, trying to remain as nonchalant as I could.

"Yeah, Just tired." I brushed it off, letting out a small chuckle as I did my best grin, "Math isn't my best subject." She nodded, sighing as she let go of me,

"Head to Study Hall, I'll see you tomorrow then." She smiled kindly, and I nodded, walking out as I headed for my locker. Not surprised to see students rushing around the halls.

I'd been moved to her class for a couple weeks now, and almost every single day she gives me that look. It doesn't annoy me, necessarily, but I figured she'd find out it was in my nature.

I shrugged it off, heading in front of my locker and opening it quickly. I slipped math books inside, and took out history ones. As I closed it, I turned to see my locker mate staring at me.

Kyle's brown eyes seemed to be interested, yet confused like a puppy as he studied me. I stared back at him, holding my books to my chest.

"Kyle? Are you high again?" I asked, though I couldn't smell it in his breath this time. He seemed to snap out of it as he shook his head, pushing up his glasses.

"No, it's just that," He glanced away for a second, "I heard some guy say your name and decided to check up on you." I sighed, shaking my head.

"Nothing, I spaced out in class and the teacher put me on blast. Per usual." I appreciated his need to check up on me, but I knew he didn't care. Kyle was often with his girlfriend, and we were never.. friends.

Just people who spoke to eachother, I guess. He wouldn't have talked to me if nothing happened. I turned to walk away, and I heard him behind me,

"Alright, bye Hayes." I paid no attention at the nickname, I guess it seemed more appealing to others than my real name. Yet, like usual, I didn't say anything as I headed to the library. My feet seemed to echo around myself as I looked around. I was about to pass the closet that was a few feet away from the entrance when I heard a groan.

I stopped, looking at the closet in shock. Another one followed, and I knew it had to be a guy. My eyes widened in embarrassment, and I was turning when the door opened. Out the door walked a girl, arranging her hair that had been messed up by whatever was going on in there.

I just continued walking, only turning my head once to see if she was looking at me. She was, but only had a flustered look on her face as I entered the library, losing sight of her.

I felt myself roll my eyes, at least they could be a little bit more discreet. But either way,

It's not like I'd tell anyone. Who would I tell?

-

Dove Cameron As Lauren Hayes