Stretching my limbs, I'm rewarded with a popping sound at the give of my stiff muscles, providing some relief after a long night of sleep. Yawning, I get a taste of my morning breath and instantly cringe. You'd think that toothpaste would do a better job ridding people of that.

walk over to the mirror on the back of my closet door. I would have a stand-alone mirror that didn't have to be shoved into my closet, but my room is only big enough to house my full-size bed, my four-drawer dresser, and a desk on the far side of my room against my windows. My room isn't extremely small, but the neon green paint I begged for as a child makes it feel much more closed in. I plan on re-painting my room every summer, but every summer I conveniently have some sort of excuse. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I have to double-take at the horrific sight staring back at me.

No, I look like Medusa. Maybe even Ursula from The Little Mermaid.

They're all the same. Identical to the image staring back at me in the mirror. My curls, dark brown that fade gently to dirty blonde as my hair reaches mid-back, are all tangled and make my scalp ache from the awkward angles they found themselves in last night. The mascara smeared over my face makes my light blue eyes stand out even more than they should, and I contemplate going for a smoky-eye look from now on, and there's even a bit of drool caked on the corner of my mouth. Every morning.

Once I'm able to get my hair dealt with, I move onto cleaning my face in the hallway bathroom, washing away the mascara from the day before and being sure to scrub off the drool and any toothpaste stains from the bit that dripped down my chin as I brushed. Some people wake up looking like princesses, I am not one of those people. I walk back into my room and to my white dresser with random nail polish stains from the times I accidentally spilled through the years, reminding me that I need to invest in a new dresser. Preferably one that isn't 16 years old.

Once I'm able to get my hair dealt with, I move onto cleaning my face in the hallway bathroom, washing away the mascara from the day before and being sure to scrub off the drool and any toothpaste stains from the bit that dripped down my chin as I brushed. Some people wake up looking like princesses, I am not one of those people. I walk back into my room and to my white dresser with random nail polish stains from the times I accidentally spilled through the years, reminding me that I need to invest in a new dresser. Preferably one that isn't 16 years old.

Delicately, I pick up the necklace in its rightful place on top of my jewelry box. I lift the small pendant and hook it around my neck, feeling the cool touch of the diamond hitting the skin on my chest. I fiddle with the small charm, feeling closer to my mother with it on. The clock next to my bed reminds me that I need to get going if I don't want to be late for school, and from the lack of noise down the hallway I realize my older brother isn't even up yet. I walk down the hall, my feet comforted by the carpet as I pass pictures lining the wall of memories I can never get back, and I stop at my brothers room.

With no response after waiting two minutes after knocking, I open the door to Toby's room. In seconds, I regret my decision when I see two ***** bodies in his bed and I quickly retreat back to my room. One clearly belongs to my brother, and the other to some girl that found herself in his bed last night. I wish I could say I was surprised, but my brother is notorious for this. I love him, but he has no shame.

I realize Toby most likely forgot to set his alarm last night since his mind was...occupied with other matters at hand. So, I fish around in my desk for the air horn I keep on hand for moments like this. I can't exactly crawl over the ***** girl to shake Toby awake, and I can't yell for them to wake up either.

I haven't been able to speak since my

freshman year of high school. Three

long years of silence that I would give

anything to break but an unable to.

Three long years since that one fateful

night that stole my voice, my pride,

and my innocence. There's some sort

of mental block that won't alloW me to

speak, a PTSD of sorts. At least, that's

what the doctors said when it first

happened. I believe them. That night

still haurnts me when I close my eyes to go to sleep.

I was at my first party. My older

brother, Toby, has always been with

the 'it' crowd. Even as a sophomore he

was being invited to the senior parties,

and he rarely turned them down. One

day he finally gave in and let me and

my best friend, Alyse, tag along with

him and his best friend, Warren.

Warren was a big part of the reason

I wanted to go so badly. He was my

brother's hot best friend, and I wanted

the cliché love story where we fell in

love and lived happily ever after. I

figured a party would be a good start

to that, he would finally notice me as

more than just his best friend's little sister. I was so naive.

Much to my surprise, it worked.

Warren was all over me. He was

constantly making sure my drink

was full, taught me how to play the

drinking games, and had me attached

to his side the whole time. I felt like I

was on cloud-nine. I had a crush on

Warren since he and Toby became

friends back in fifth grade. Toby didn't

think twice about it, he was off on his

own flirting with the senior girls that

would give him the time of day. He

figured I was safe with his best friend.

So did I.

However, soon enough I realized

I drank too much. I started to feel

sick, I was incoherent, the room was

spinning. Warren quickly noticed

and offered to take me away from the

party and upstairs so I could lay down,

and I let him. He seemed worried

about my disoriented state of mind.

I soon passed out, only to wake up to

a throbbing pain down below, and it

didn't take long for me to realize what

had happened. My innocence was

gone, snatched from me against my

will.

I haven't spoken since.

Memories of what happened came

back to me in waves in the days after it

happened. My dad put me into therapy.

Through nmeeting with me therapist, I

was able to recall certain details that

I wish I never did. They thought that

having me remember and writing

about what happened would help my

voice come back, but soon my therapist

diagnosed me with PTSD that was

blocking me from being able to talk

and shortly after that I stopped trying.

I ended up learning sign language as

my way of communicating, or writing

things down since the majority of

people don't understand ASL. Toby and

my dad learned it with me, as well as

my closest friends.

I shake my head and walk back down

the hall and into Toby's room, blaring

the air horn into the silence. Flinching

at the noise, I watch as they both

shoot up in a panic, but seconds later

Toby's blue eyes land on me and he

groans, burying his head under the

pillow while the girl next to him tries

to hide under him, frantically asking

what's going on. I suppose I could havechosen another plan of action to wake

them, one that may not have been as

traumatizing for the girl, but nothing

beats the sound of an air-horn.

I go downstairs to start cooking

breakfast for Toby and me. I would

make some for the girl too, but I know

my brother's ways. She won't stay

for longer than another few minutes,

repulsed by my brother and his player ways.

As though acting out my thoughts,

angered footsteps come storming

down the steps and an equally pissed

off voice follows.

"Lose my number, asshole!""

The front door slams shut, echoing in

the house. I'm surprised the poor girl

was even allowed to stay the whole

night, Toby usually kicks them out

after he's had his fun. I don't condone

what he does, but I've learned that I can't necessarily stop him.

I frown and pour the pancake batter

onto the griddle, shaking my head

slightly at my brothers antics. He hasa new girl at least once a week, and

this girl lasted one night before being

kicked out. Most don't last longer than

that. Toby is famous for his record

of one night stands. It's not exactly a

superlative I would want to have, and

it's not exactly something I like to brag

about at family reunions.

I flip the pancakes onto a plate and

set it in the middle of the counter,

counting the seconds until my brother

will come bounding down the stairs.

I'm sure the scent of our breakfast has

drifted up through the ceiling and is

just now reaching his room.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two-

Here he is.

He comes sauntering into the kitchen,

his eyes set on the pancakes. He looks

to me and smiles gratefully, messing up

my hair.

"Thanks Raine," he says, taking his

seat at the counter before digging into

his breakfast. "I think this is your best batch of pancakes."

I smile and nod my response. He keeps

shoveling them into his mouth, the

large stack getting smaller with each

passing second, and my eyes divert

to the fridge. I look at one particular

picture sticking to it with a blue

magnet, standing out against the black

of the fridge, and a frown etches its

way onto my lips. It's of Toby and I

with our parents. I'm no older than

four years old, and he's no older than

five. If you didn't know he was a grade

above me you would think we were

twins with how similar our looks are.

My free hand comes up to play with the

necklace around my neck; my mother's

necklace. She passed away when I was

five, car accident. She was driving to

pick Toby up from his soccer game that

my dad had to leave early to go get me

from daycare. A truck ran his stop sign,

barreling into my mom on the drivers side.

My father instantly jumped into care

mode for my brother and I after the

funeral, never really giving himself

the chance to grieve. I knew her death

affected him greatly, he loved my mom

so much I wondered if he even loved

her more than Toby and I. I don't ever

remember a sour moment between the

two; we were kind of like the golden family.

But when she was killed, we lost that

reputation. Our father didn't take his

anger or grief out on his kids, nor did

he end up drinking his sorrow away.

He cared for Toby and I the best he

could being a single father with a full

time job, and yet he refused to marry

anyone else to get help. He wasn't used

to being a single father, and he had a

tough time adjusting. There were times

he would forget to pick Toby or I up

from practice or school, or he would

forget to buy certain groceries at the

store, but we loved him regardless because he was there for us.

When I turned 12 his business took

off. It became a big name in the

business world, and he was forced to

get an apartment in New York, leavingShe shakes her head, "I ate before I

left. So, who was it this time?" She

asks, referring to my womanizer of a

brother and his girl of choice.

"Some girl"

Alyse rolls her eyes. "Well obviously. I

meant like does she go to our school?"

I shake my head.

She purses her lips and nods, getting

lost in her own head, but I don't miss

the flash of sadness that crosses her

eyes. I frown and put a hand on her

shoulder to get her attention. When

she looks back at me I drop my hand

and sign to her reassuringly.

"He's an idiot, he will realize what he's

doing is wrong and stop it one day. Then

he can come running to you."

She laughs sadly and shakes her head

at me. "Yeah, right."

"You two ready to go?" Toby asks as he

comes back into the room with his hair

wet and no longer messed up from his

fun night.

We nod and he grabs his keys and

backpack, Alyse and I following.We get into his Ford F-150 Raptor

and start driving to school with the

radio cranked up. I look over at my

unusually quiet friend and my lips turn

down. Usually she's jamming out to the

music along with Toby, but now she's

looking out the window sorrowfully.

I'm not the only one with family

problems. Alyse's father passed away

when we were in 8th grade, and her

mother hasn't been the same since.

But I know that's not what she's upset

about right now. She has a hopeless

crush on Toby, a cliche just like mine

was with Warren. Of course, what

happened to me will never happen to

her. My brother is a womanizer, but

he would never do to anyone what

Warren did to me.

Once we got to school, Alyse and I

started out walk to Music class while

Toby hung back by his truck to flirt

with some other seniors gawking over

him.

Alyse andI carefully maneuver our

ways through the dull blue hallways of

East Bridge High School, every other

locker stamped with a blue and gold

Spartan head, our schools mascot.

"When was the last time you and I

watched The Hunger Games?" Alyse

asks.

"Two weeks ago?"

"We need to watch it again. I saw

a tweet about Jennifer Lawrence's

ridiculous crying face, so I have to see

for myself if it's that bad."

"Every actress has her own crying face,

you really think hers is that bad?"

"The tweet seemed to think so."

We reach our Music class, just a short

walk from the entrance to school. I

follow Alyse through our chattingclassmates to our normal seat to the

left and in the front. I can't sit too far

back in any class because if a teacher

wants me to be a part of the discussion,

I have to write my response on my

trusty whiteboard. I take it with me to

every class, otherwise participating is

a whole lot harder. It makes it easy for

people to buy me birthday presents-

every year I think I get 10 new packs of

dry erase markers.

"Okay, show me a better crying face

then."

Alyse freezes at my response, shifting

awkwardly in her seat as she glances

around at our classmates. "Right here?" |

I nod.

"Right now?"

Another nod.

"What if the new guy is in this class,

though?" She rushes out in a voice just

louder than a whisper.

I scrunch my face up in confusion, and

Alyse tilts her head.

"YOu haven't heard?"

"No, what new guy?"

"I haven't heard t00 much about it, but

apparently everyone found out he was

coming over the weekend. Word is it's

West."

I just stare blankly at her. Is that

supposed to mean something to me?

"West Love." Alyse adds with more

emphasis.

I finally show her the reaction she was

waiting for, shock prevalent on my

face, and she gives an over dramatic

nod.

"The dude who was sent to jail when he

was 17? That West Love?"

"Well juvie not jail, but yes that's the

one. And before you ask, no. No one

is certain of why he went in. You've

heard all the rumors, though. One of

them is bound to be true."

My mouth is agape, but Alyse has

turned her attention to her phoneto stalk Toby's Imstagram for the

millionth time. Just as I'm about to

wave my hand near her face to gain

her attention again, I hear our music

teacher, Mr. C, call for me. I glance

to the front of the room where he's

standing in front of the whiteboard, a

warm smile on his chestnut skin.

"Good morning,"he signs.

Mr. Cis the one teacher of mine who

took the time to learn sign language

for me. He's been my music teacher

since freshman year, and he refused

to let me drop just for my lack of a

voice. Instead, rather than pushing

me over to band where I would be the

only pianist, he broadened this class to

include a role for a pianist. Typically,

this is a class for chorus, but Mr. C

gives me alternate assigments to earn

my credits. He has me play the piano

for warm-ups, for rehearsals, and even

at our concerts in order to pass. It's

sort of like a year-long piano class.

On top of that, Mr. Chas given me the

responsibility of writing extra pieces

for our concerts. Lyrics, sheet music,

the whole nine-years. It can be adaunting task, of course, being a high

school composer, but I have come to

love it even more than I once loved

singing. Not to mention it gives our

school a huge leg up at competitions on

the sole fact our music is written and

played by a student.

I go and sit by the piano as Mr. C gets

the class quiet, and I catch Alyse's eye.

She smiles at me and I begin to play

the notes for the class to warm up their

voices, but the rumor about West Love

entering our school plagues the back of

my mind and keeps me on alert.

OoO

Once Music ended, Alyse andI went

our separate way to our respective

classes. I always meet Toby at my

locker for second period, and every

now and then Alyse will tag along

because she 'needs to get something

from her locker' that's conveniently

right next to mine.

"Hey sis, how was class? You mess

up on the piano in front of all those

watching eyes yet?"

I scowl at Toby, debating giving him the

finger.

"No, I did perfectly fine as usual."

He grins at my response, throwing his

arm around my shoulders to pull me

in for a side hug. "Aw, come on Raine, I

was just teasing."

I am about to sign my response, butI

notice his attention get pulled away

by a few girls that saunter by and

playfully bat their lashes at him. He

sends them his trademarked Toby

wink, giving each of them a little bit of

hope.

I swear almost every girl at this school

wishes for my brother to make their

fantasies come true. The way they look

at him suggests they've read one too

many romance novels and dream to be

the girl that ends his playerish ways.

The thought leaves me chuckling

silently to myself. As if. The only girl

that could potentially make my brother

finally grow up would be Alyse, but

she's too dense to see that and he's too

horny to come to terms with it.

"Hey, Raine!"

My attention is brought down the

hallway as my ex, Kyle, walks towards

us. The hallway is clearing out now,

but he wouldn't have been hard to miss

anyways. Kyle is potentially the tallest

guy at school, which placed him right

on the basketball team. He's cute, with

buzzed blonde hair and brown eyes,

but things between us never worked

out.

Toby growls under his breath and

pulls me closer to him, his arm resting

around my shoulder protectively. I

may love him, but good god he put on

way too much cologne this morning.

My eyes are starting to water.

I offer Kyle a nod of greeting with

a smile, but we don't stop to 'talk.

It's been a few months since I broke

up with him, but we were never

serious in the first place. After I

was...assaulted, Toby became even

more overprotective of me than

the typical older brother. I've never

minded it too much, I know the guilt

he carries after that night. I've tried toreassure him that it wasn't his fault,

but he never really listens or wants

to discuss it. He thinks he failed me as

my older brother, like he let me downn

somehow. So now, he makes up for it

by scaring off most of the guys that

look my way. It can get annoying, but it

does help with the never ending fear of

being taken advantage of.

Kyle was the first guy to truly gain

Toby's approval, and rightfully so. He's

a very sweet guy, actively involved

in Young Life, varsity athlete, and a

stellar home life. Things between us

could have worked out, aside from his

hero complex. He had it programmed

into his brain that if we dated, he could

get me to talk. Every date he would

spend part of our time trying to get me

to say something, anything. He didn't

understand that trying only hurts me

because it reminds me that even ifI

want to, I really can't talk. And now,

most guys at school have the same

sick fantasy: to be the one that gets the

mute girl to talk.

I don't know why it's such an interest.

But you'd think that instead of trying

to force me out of my comfort zonemaybe a guy that shows interest in

me would try and learn sign language

instead. Otherwise, I don't want to feel

like a challenge.

Toby jostles me from my thoughts

when we reach our class, AP US

History. Walking around the tables

that sit four each, we head to our

unofficially claimed table with our

friend Gray. He's busy flirting with a

transfer student sitting a table over,

but when we walk up he directs his

attention back to us, quickly telling

her that he'll talk to her later. Gray is

no different from my brother with his

player-ish ways.

"Hey man, hey Raine. You look awfully

cute today," he says warmly.

His words could be mistaken as

flirtatious, as the transfer student

seems to think from the daggers her

eyes are sending me, but I know Gray

means it in a friendly way. Gray is thhe

same year as my brother, a senior. And

while I'm only a year younger, Gray

still sees me as the teddy bear baby

sister that he wants to protect just as

much as Toby.

I wave hello to him, taking my seat at

the table across from him and Toby.

Gray just became our friend last year

when he moved here from Alabama,

and I can see why so many girls fall

at his feet. He has dirty blonde hair

that's always styled perfectly and

cheekbones that girls dream their

boyfriends would have. He has bright

blue eyes that are lit with knowledge,

his semi-nerdy ways a nice plus to

draw girls in.

He's much different from my brother.

My brother's constant 'couldn't care

less' attitude is what draws girls to

him. Not to mention he goes to the gym

every freaking day, and it's paid off.

Both he and Gray have nice bodies, and

girls surely don't fail to notice.

Just as the bell rings, Tyler, our other

friend, comes bounding into the room

at the final ring. He gives the teacher a

large smile before walking to the back

towards us, taking his seat next to me.

He beams at me, slightly out of breath

from no doubt sprinting to make it

here on time.

I chuckle, "Hi Tyler."

"Hey Raine. Hey Gray. Hey Toby."

He says, smiling at each of us before

looking back at me with his piercingly

bright eyes.

Tyler is very different from Gray and

Toby. He doesn't have the careless

attitude of my brother or the brains of

Gray. No, Tyler is the clown of the trio.

He attracts girls with his childish,

joking, and slightly stupid behavior.

Not to mention he has dark black

hair and a large build, complete with

a sturdy jaw line, and he definitely

doesn't fall short in the muscle

department either. All three of them

are attractive, most girls like to

describe them as the hottest guys at

our school.

They're the famous trio: all three

known to be the players of East Bridge

High School. They are the guys that

girls flock to day after day, and they

can't seem to turn any of them down.

Not one of them can keep it in their

pants for over a week, which again I

don't condone at all, but I love themnonetheless. Alyse and I seem to be

the only two girls of the school that

don't fawn over them, which for me

may be because I see them all as older

brothers, and that's why our group

works out so well.

"So, you guys will never guess what

happened!" Tyler exclaims to us, his

voice giddy with excitement.

"We're waiting on the edge of our

seats," Toby deadpans.

The reason I was almost late to class

was because I ran into the new guy.

Like, literally. I was talking to that Lucy

girl"

Her name is Lilly.

"-And when I went to leave I

accidentally rammed right into him.

I stumbled back a little, but luckily

neither of us fell."

"New guy?" I sign, the hairs on the back

of my neck standing up as I remember

my conversation with Alyse this

morning.

Please tell me there's a different new

guy that he's talking about.

"He got here today! So anyways, after

I apologized and everything I noticed

the fact he was wearing a leather

jacket and whatnot, cliché I know. But,

naturally I figured he was a cool guy

and invited him to sit with us at lunch,"

he states proudly, as though waiting for

us to praise him.

I smile at his childish antics, and he

beams at me only to have it quickly

turn to a grimace as Toby reaches

across the table to smacks him in the

back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" He pouts,

rubbing the spot.

I turn to Toby, confused myself as to

why he's practically glaring at Tyler.

"Look, I know you aren't one to really

welcome new-comers but-"

"You're right, I like our group as it is.

But do you have any idea who this new

guy is?" Toby says harshly, sitting up in

his seat instead of lounging back in it.

"Yeah, I mean he said his name was

West Love but-" Tyler stops and raises

his brows in realization. "-Oh..."

"Yeah, oh." Toby growls. "I don't need

some creep around my sister. Not

again."

"How did you not put two and two

together?" Gray questions.

I wince slightly at the fact Toby

brought him up and that night, but

I shake it off. Tyler frowns at me

and scoots closer, picking up on my

discomfort with the new topic of

conversation. It's enough to have what

happened to me constantly on my

mind, I don't need my friends to talk

about it too.

I change my thoughts to everything

I've heard about the new guy; West.

He's known for being a troublemaker,

finally being put in juvie just seven

months ago. The rumors of how he

got arrested range everywhere from

him getting one too many citations for

smoking weed to go as far as to say

he killed someone, and they mention

everything in between.

I've heard almost every possibility

there is, but most of all I've heard he

isn't someone to mess with, and it's

starting to sync in that I can't do the

logical thing and avoid him. Because

Tyler's heart is bigger than his brain

and he invited him to sit with us.

"Why'd you have to invite him to sit

with us, Tyler?"

"Im sorry! I didn't register that he was

that West Love."

Oh, right sorry I forgot how popular of

a name it is. "I sign, my eyes bleeding

sarcasm to get that tone across.

Panic starts to rise in my chest, but

Toby speaks up.

"Raine, it'll be okay. First of all, he can't

be that bad if he is already back at

school. And second, you have us three,

you really think we're going to let

anything happen to you?"

"He's right," Gray adds.

"Yeah come on Raine, no one would

mess with you so long as I'm here."Tyler adds, puffing up his chest.

Already, I can feel my mind and

body begin to calm down and I smile

warmly at the two of them, shoving

Tyler playfully

"For the record, Tyler, you're kind of an

idiot."

Instantly his pout turns into a full

blown smile. "But you love mne

anyways."