Aqua
Haley Winn
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This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and events are products of the author's imagination and are in no way real. Any resemblance to real events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Aqua
Copyright 2012 Haley Winn
Cover Design by Mallory Wheeler
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Chapter 1
Haley
You see a lot of things in the little city where I live. For example, right now, seated on a bench in front of my favorite taffy shop, here are a few of the things I've seen in the last thirty seconds: A little boy running by with his dad jogging after him screaming, "Get back here!" Dancing across the crosswalk was one of my friends’ moms. Yes, that’s right, I said dancing. About twenty thousand cars were racing down the road, and a girl who looked about seven dropping her ice cream. Three high school kids walked by me and four little kids were ambling after them like ducklings with their mother. A teenager gripped his mom's hand and cried, " Mom!! That car almost hit me!!" By the way that car was probably about half a block away.
I sighed and crammed a piece of taffy into my mouth. Without my realizing it, a hand had silently moved towards me and now rested on my shoulder. I screeched and hopped nearly a foot in the air.
The person started laughing like a madman and I swung my head around to see my friend Dylan. "You ass!" I screamed and smacked him on the back of his head.
"I...that ...so funny!" He gasped through laughs, fighting for the right words, and clearly choosing the wrong ones. I stood and offered him a piece of Texas Pecan taffy, knowing that would make him shut up. He took a square and raised an eyebrow at me suspiciously, "Haley, what did you do to it...?" he asked.
I shook my head. He shrugged and handed me the wrapper after devouring the piece of candy. Dylan's mom walked up (The one who was dancing). Behind her, about two blocks away, I saw my best friend Mallory running toward me. I grinned and waved.
Dylan’s mom LOVED taking pictures of Emily, his other "friend" who was a girl and I. She snapped a picture of me when I was turning back to her. "Mom, enough pictures." Dylan groaned.
"It is OK Emo." I'd called Dylan Emo since the fifth grade when he…well…went emo, I suppose. He had soft brown hair that was usually dyed black, the same color as his clothes. He was average height with pitch black eyes that seemed to go on forever, like two small black holes.
"SORRY TO INTERUPT." Mallory breathed as she caught up. Dylan's mom snapped a shot of her, and I really couldn’t blame her. I wanted to scream "For the love of Christ, Mal, what is wrong with your clothes?" Here is why: Her shirt was neon chartreuse and she was wearing a pair of dark denim skinny jeans. Not so bad huh? Alright, here’s the accessories: a tie-dye scarf that hung loosely from her neck, purple converse, and a light brown throw bag with a peace sign on it.
Imagine that on a girl who was thirteen and NOT thirteen in the seventies.
"Umm..." I began.
A smoldering glare erupted from her violet eyes, and she hissed a “Shut up.” under her breath.
A crowd of my friends, including Emily, Brooke, Jessie, Ethan, and Mikey Poul, rushed down the sidewalk in a fit of laughter. Mikey Bruno had been chasing them half a block. His dirty blond hair flying behind him, and his brown jacket on, even in the middle of summer.
My jaw dropped, and I pointed my finger at them. Dylan and Mallory whirled around. Mallory gasped and took three steps backward. Dylan and I stared, but I managed to run with him about two steps behind.
Mallory was right behind him, and then his mom, who was looking a little confused.
Emily's ex-boyfriend Tristan was soon right in front of me, whom I guess had been in a shop and seen us run by.
Four blocks away, Ethan scurried up a tree and hung by the top branch with one arm. About two minutes later, our groups met up and Ethan jumped on Bruno's back from behind. Dylan and Tristan held him back while us girls and Poulé (The nickname we made up for Mikey Poul) ran like crazy.
Dylan's mom had already left, seeing it was taken care of. I didn’t stop running until I was in front of our apartment building, which, for the record, was seventeen blocks away.
We all entered panting and breathless, except Poulé, because guys weren’t allowed in my apartment unless my grandpa was there. He had a room down the hall, however. And he, my mom, and my grandma were at work, so it was just us.
I plopped down on my bed and Mallory sprawled out across from me. Emily perched in a black leather office chair and Brooke and Jessie shared the beanbag chair. I grabbed the remote and flipped the switch.
"Comedy Central or Teen Nick? " I asked.
"Comedy Central." Jessie answered. Emily nodded in agreement.
"Science Channel." Argued the forever Mythbusters-Geek Mallory, while we all rolled our knowing eyes at her. I counted her as Teen Nick, since she hated Comedy Central with a passion.
"Teen Nick!" yelled Brooke, surprising us all. I waved a hand to shush her, and she blushed.
"Nick it is.” I grinned and flipped it to that station. Mallory grimaced and crawled under my covers, sounding like she mumbled ‘I’m gonna read my book.’ I heard the doorbell, and Brooke wandered off to answer it, returning moments later with my grandma next to her. “Hey girls.” The older woman smiled warmly at us.
"Hey.” We greeted in unison, Mallory almost yelling with a spastic wave.
"Do you girls have money?" My grandma asked. We were all planning to go eat.
We headed down stairs to the apartment restaurant and asked for a table for six. A waitress named Samantha led us to our table and took our orders, which, for most of us, was a bacon cheeseburger, except for Brooke, the vegetarian. She had a salad, awkwardly flushing red as we all smiled at her.
My mother walked in the restaurant and pulled a chair up to our table. "Hey, y`all should probably let your moms know that you are alright.”
My friends all pulled out their cell phones, (except Mallory, who’s phone was almost always lost and she used mine instead) and dialed their numbers. Most of them stayed on for only about twenty seconds, but Jessie took two minutes, because her mom wasn’t at home and she had to call a number of different cell phone numbers to get in touch.
It was so normal for my friends to come over that we usually forgot to call their parents. The good thing is that we all lived in close proximity to each other, Jessie living a couple doors down, Emily and Brooke residing in a duplex down the road, and Mallory’s little house a few miles north.
Our food arrived. I picked up my fork and began devouring my meal.