The Imposter

[Chapter Two]

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odium \OH-dee-uhm\

(n.) 1. Intense hatred or dislike, esp. toward a person or thing regarded as contemptible, despicable, or repugnant. 2. The state or quality of being hated.

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When I finally got home I threw my backpack into the kitchen and headed down the hallway to my mom's office. "Hey mom, I'm home." I smiled when she looked up with a start from her desk. Her hazel eyes were large and owlish because of the glasses she was wearing and her hair was in disarray.

"Is it three o'clock already?" she asked. She could never keep track of time. Once she set her mind to a project she stayed that way until it was finished. It was up to me to feed my parents; otherwise they would starve to death.

"Nope, it's 4:30. I had detention."

"That's nice," she murmured absently.

"Mom, I just told you I got a detention," I said exasperated. I know most kids would be rejoicing that their parents didn't notice, but mine would only find out later and ask why I didn't tell them.

She looked up from her work again and frowned, "I'm a little busy right now, but we'll talk about your detention later." She looked more stressed than usual and I could have sworn there were new lines on her face. I didn't doubt that she had gotten less sleep lately than usual, it was all because of her job with...something...in the government? Eh, I don't really know what she and my dad do, it's one of those hush-hush jobs.

I forced a smile, "I'll start dinner in a little bit." She nodded and went back to concentrating on whatever new project or problem she had.

I headed to the kitchen and pressed the button on the intercom system that connected to the basement. "Hey Daddy, I'm home. What do you want for dinner?"

His voice crackled over the intercom a few seconds later, "Hi sweetheart, anything you make is fine. Just nothing spicy, please." He sounded exhausted too, but that might just be the intercom connection.

"You got it," I chuckled. Spaghetti and meatballs it was. It took me about a half an hour to prepare dinner, but when I finished I was pleased with the final product. I let my mom and dad know dinner was ready and pulled out my homework. From past experience I knew it would take them about an hour to finish up and come to dinner. Just enough time for me to get some homework done. I chewed on the tip of my pencil and started writing my essay out for English. I was just about done with the rough draft when my parents entered the kitchen wearily.

"Smells good, sweetie," my dad said. He slowly lowered himself into his chair with a grimace and ran a hand through his dark auburn hair. He looked like he was in pain. My mom followed suit and practically fell into her chair. I served them their portion and sat down with them.

"Is everything okay? You guys seem really tired." I strove for a casual tone, hoping they would talk to me. We weren't really close. It was hard because they were usually so busy with work and I had never really made an effort to spend time with them. Lately, though, I had been working on building a better relationship with them.

"There's just a small problem with work, honey," my mom replied, smiling tiredly.

"Have you gotten any sleep?" I asked worriedly.

My dad shook his head in a gesture that meant he was going to change the subject pretty soon. "Don't worry about it sweetie, your mother and I know how to take care of ourselves. What we're working on right now is really important and takes a lot of our concentration, that's all."

I wasn't really sure where my parents worked or who they worked for. I figured it was something for the government if it was so hush-hush. All I knew is that they were scientists who specialized in robotics and futuristic technology. They had only shown me one of their inventions, a robot dog that had an eerie resemblance to a real dog, except for the robotic voice and metal, of course. I had never bothered to ask them whom they worked for because I knew they wouldn't give me a real answer. It was just better not to ask and go with the flow. I liked to think that if they were dealing in illegal stuff I would know.

"Well if I can help at all, just let me know. I'd be more than willing to help," I offered, knowing they would never take me up on it. My dad thanked me before jamming a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth and looking at my mother.

Understanding the hint she quickly changed the subject, "So what's this about a detention? I know you are a better student than that, Dayna."

My dad choked on his mouthful of spaghetti, "Detention?" he asked hoarsely, shooting me a disappointed look.

I rolled my eyes in frustration, remembering the hour-long detention I had to endure. "Ms. Cabinger didn't like my attitude and gave me a detention in response. I didn't think I was acting in a manner worthy of a detention, but whatever." Eh, so I stretched the truth a bit. Technically she hadn't liked my attitude and I still didn't think I deserved the detention because I don't remember cussing her out, but those are trivial facts.

My mother frowned at my flippant tone. "Speaking of disrespect, your father and I meant to talk about this with you. You've changed recently, but before this week you have been extremely rude to us. I know we aren't available very often, but that doesn't give you the right to treat us with a lack of respect a parent deserves."

"I'm sorry," I said, hanging my head. I knew they were right, but I was taking a conscious effort to make things better. "I realized that I was overstepping my boundaries and I am working hard on making this work. I understand that you are busy and I'm sorry for being rude."

They seemed satisfied with my apology and we finished our dinner in silence. I attempted some small talk, but it was obvious that my parent's minds were on something else. Offering to clear the table and do dishes, I left them to their own devices.

About an hour later my cell phone rang and, seeing it was Olivia, I answered it, expecting a full detailed report of her evening. Sure enough as soon as I said hello, she started talking. "Oh my god, I'm never getting married. I'm ready to freaking kill my sister!" she complained. "If I hear one more, 'my wedding is going to be a disaster' I'm going to personally make sure that her wedding is a disaster!"

"You don't mean that, Olivia," I chuckled. I knew first hand how her sister was, but I also knew that Olivia loved Sasha fiercely.

She sighed dramatically, "I know. I'm serious about not getting married though. There's no way I'm going through with that."

"What about Andrew?" I asked slyly, waiting for the denial.

"Andrew? What about him?" she asked nervously.

I laughed, teasing her, "Don't you remember MASH? You're supposed to marry him." I grinned, picturing the relief on her face when she realized what I was talking about. Olivia had no idea that I was aware of her crush on Andrew.

"Ha ha," she said dryly, "I'm sure Andrew will be fine without me."

"Mmhmm," I said knowingly. I suspected that Andrew liked Olivia in return, but I wasn't going to say anything to either of them. It was their problem to figure out. Much to Olivia's relief, I changed the subject, asking her a question about homework. I said goodbye to her around 8:00 o'clock, ready to watch some television before bed.

"Hey Day, did anything else happen?" Olivia asked before I hung up.

My hand tightened on the phone. I knew exactly what she was referring to: my impersonator, "Not yet."

"I hope you get this figured out soon," she yawned, "it really sucks."

I smiled lightly, "Thanks Livy, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye," she murmured.

I closed my phone and fought back the frustration that clawed at my insides. I didn't mind meaningless pranks-I was used to that from Andrew-but this was borderline wrong. It scared me to think that someone was pretending to be me and messing with my life. I had no control of what would happen to me or to the people around me.

Sighing in frustration I left the kitchen and headed to the den area. Even though I had a room of my own, I usually ended up falling asleep in here and then waking up around four in the morning. Then I would drag myself upstairs to my room to sleep for another hour before getting ready for school.

I flipped the television on and mindlessly surfed the channels, looking for something to take my mind off of all my problems. I hoped that everything would eventually resolve itself, but in the back of my mind I knew that would be way to easy. Settling on the Food Network I watched 'Ace of Cakes' and 'Iron Chef' for a while, only half paying attention to what was going on. Apparently my plan to distract myself wasn't working out like I wanted. I kept going back to thinking over the day's events. At this rate I was going to get an aneurism. Who could be impersonating me and why would they want to?

There really isn't anything that spectacular about my life. Don't get me wrong, I love my life, but if someone wanted to be someone else, why wouldn't they pick a girl who is rich and popular? To me, it just seemed silly to take control of my simple, yet satisfying life.

Around two I finally passed out from exhaustion. At four, I woke up, turned the television off and went upstairs, where I collapsed on the bed. By five, I was still tired, but dragged my body out of bed and into the shower. I picked out my clothes through half open eyes and somehow made it down to the kitchen. Mornings were just not my thing.

Amidst my bowl of oatmeal I wondered what events the day would bring. Would I punch someone in the face? Or maybe I would land myself another detention or a basketball player. Realizing it was Friday, I groaned. James's party was tonight and I had promised to attend. Olivia was going to have to pick out my outfit for me, as I had no idea what to wear, nor did I really care. Give me jeans and a t-shirt any day and I was perfectly happy.

Checking the clock, I saw that it was 7:30, half an hour before classes started. Time for me to head to school for another day filled with fun. When I arrived, I immediately found Olivia and reminded her about the party tonight and her responsibilities.

"Duh," she responded, "of course I'll dress you. Otherwise you'll just wear jeans and a t-shirt!"

"But Dayna looks sexy in jeans and a t-shirt," Andrew pointed out. Olivia and I laughed, but I noticed the forced tone in Olivia's voice. They really needed to get together; she had no reason to be jealous of me. I certainly didn't like Andrew and he didn't like me back. Maybe at the party tonight, things would heat up

for them.

I smacked Andrew on the head when the bell rang, "Time for class dipshit."

"You know," he smirked, "if you keep treating me like this I'm only going to keep annoying you."

Over my shoulder, I rolled my eyes at him, "You will always annoy me Andrew, no matter what you do."

"It's inevitable," he said mournfully. His eyes were sparkling with hidden humor as he teased me relentlessly.

We walked to History together, my least favorite class, with my least favorite teacher: Ms. Cabinger. She gave me a dirty look when I entered the room and took a seat. Nice to see you too, Satan's mistress. Andrew chuckled and took a seat next to me. "You guys aren't best buds yet?"

"Despite spending an hour together yesterday, she still thinks I'm a no-good, rebellious teenager in need of a serious reality check," I sighed, "I fear it'll take longer for us to become best friends." We both laughed quietly, ignoring the glares from Ms. Cabinger.

"Attention!" she screeched. She always sounds like a dying bird, I wish someone would just put her out of her misery. "Take out your books and open to page 49." She had a malicious look on her face as she watched us grudgingly do as she commanded. "Read the essay by Marx and then write a five-paragraph essay on why you agree or disagree with him. You have thirty minutes, start now." Everyone groaned in protest. A freaking essay, in thirty minutes? Well, actually, less than thirty, we had to read the essay by Marx first. Ugh, she was just doing this to punish us.

I saw Andrew next to me, rapidly reading the text. He was a fast reader, but a slow writer, so he needed as much time as possible. I skimmed the essay about Marx's views on society, picking out random facts. Within thirty minutes I had pulled something out of my ass and written an essay.

Half the students in our class hadn't finished by the time the thirty minutes was up, but Ms. Cabinger whisked the essays off their desks with a smirk. She then proceeded to lecture about Marx's essay and the effect it had and still has on society. I tried to pay attention, but with all the stress and lack of sleep lately, my eyes refused to stay open. I felt like ten pound weights were pulling on them. My body screamed for me to just give in and fall asleep but my mind kept jolting me awake for another couple seconds of torture.

When the classroom door opened I pried my eyes open and watched the school secretary, Mrs. Timothy, enter the room timidly. "Uh, excuse me," she murmured, "Sorry to interrupt your lecture, Ms. Cabinger, but we have a new student."

A new student? My attention was successfully caught as I waited for the new meat to walk through the door. It was strange that someone was joining our school so late in the year, especially with only 41 days left. Maybe they had a special 'in' with the principle.

"Oh," Ms. Cabinger oozed, "that's quite alright, bring them in." She was practically purring in anticipation. Another student that she could torture for pleasure.

"Oh good," Mrs. Timothy breathed in relief, happy that Ms. Cabinger wasn't going to bite her head off, "I'll just leave him in your capable hands." She motioned for the new student to enter. "This is Kyle Drake. He doesn't start school until Monday, but he's here today just to get used to our school." With that Mrs. Timothy left.

For the first time I focused on the new guy and froze in my seat. I was now officially awake. Sure, he was good looking with his black hair and chiseled features. Sure, I noticed that he was taller than average and that he looked slightly older than a high schooler. But that's not what caught my attention. No. What had me frozen in my seat were his eyes. His strikingly silver eyes were focused solely on me and they were filled with pure, undiluted loathing.

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haha so much for waiting a week to update again. apparently i have no patience. who knew? :) anyways, let me know what you think, i love your comments

xoxo nich

p.s. thought the song was oddly appropriate XP