𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓷𝓮
—𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦—

     𝓑𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓒𝓪𝓼𝓮𝔂 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓼 at the dining room table, his phone resting loosely in his hands under the table. His mother sits a plate of french toast in front of the boy, along with his younger sister. Brent wasn't paying too much attention, though; he was more focused on the text message he had received from Carter Florian, his best friend.

Brent had a scheduled test for the day— one that he had studied for over the course of the week. He was prepared, but knew that he'd find a way to somehow dodge getting the grade he deserved. It was as if he always purposefully missed a few questions so that he wouldn't be recognized as the smartest teen in his class, but didn't miss too many to be the dumbest, either.

The seventeen year old was normally glued to a textbook when he was at school, but not too long for anyone to shove him into the nerd category. His home was where he could finally open up and relax; where he could freely read his books without judgement. But the worst part was that Brent knew no one could truly understand him, other than Odette Carswell herself.

Odette and Brent had been close since they were first introduced to high school, but it had only progressed from there. The two were open with each other, and shared most likes and dislikes. And, admittedly, he maybe, sorta had a crush on her. Of course he wouldn't act on them for a bit, but he planned on it soon— and hopefully she would return his feelings.

And through Odette, he found his best friend; Carter Florian. Carter was the shy guy, but wasn't when he found people he trusted. They met during their sophomore year, while Odette and the two boys had went to a football game together, all cheering on the team for spirit week. None of them socially interacted with too many people, choosing to keep to themselves and their close friends. Brent could definitely say he loved his best friends, because he had shared a bond with them no one else ever could. He could let loose while with them, and they never judged.

"Are you and Carter going to the basketball game tonight?" Brent's mother asks, beginning to braid his younger sister's hair. "I think tonight you should get away from the books. Some fresh air should do you good."

"Actually, we were planning on catching a movie with Claire and Odette," Brent says, finally placing his phone on the table. "If that's okay with you, anyway."

"Of course," she smiles, glad to see that he was interested in something new for the day. But the weekend would be another story. "Could you do me a favor?"

"That depends on what it is," he chuckles, cutting into his breakfast. "If it has anything to do with calling in sick to help you with errands at work, it's a no."

"That was one time!" she groans, a genuine laugh leaving her lips. "I was just going to ask you to drive Lizzie to school. I have to get to work early today, so I won't get the chance to."

"Sure," he shrugs, glancing to his sister. The girl opens her mouth, showing him her food without an ounce of guilt. Brent immediately turns his head, focusing on the sunrise outside.

Elizabeth was only eight, and was the messiest child that Brent had ever known. Whenever there was a family dinner when Brent's grandparents and aunt came over, everyone knew who to point to when a plate of food ended up on the floor. And in often times, the girl would blame her actions on the puppy— one they didn't even have. But she was always a smiling girl, and was one to brighten a dull room.

She took after their mother; the strongest and happiest woman that Brent had ever met, despite going through what she did. When Brent was nine years old and his mother was pregnant with Elizabeth, his father had walked out one night and never came back. Brent never knew why, but that was okay. The family was happy without him, and that's all they ever needed.

Brent's mother fought through his leaving, and stayed strong as a single mother for the coming years. And to that day, Brent hadn't seen her break her cool even once over any issues.

"Lizzie, keep your food in your mouth, please," their mother requests, tying off the end of her daughter's braid. "Go grab your backpack, Brent is taking you to school today."

The small girl complies, leaving behind an empty plate and glass on the table. Brent goes back to his phone, sending a final text message to Carter before he stands from his seat and pulls on his jacket. He pulls his backpack from the back of his seat, rolling his eyes as Elizabeth begins to shove a stuffed animal into hers.

"I'll see you tonight," he tells his mother, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Should I pick Lizzie up after school?"

"That would be a great help," she nods. "Bye honey, good luck on your test."

"Bye," he smiles, leaving the kitchen to help Elizabeth with her backpack. "Come on, Lizzie. Don't want to be late to school, do you?"

"But what if I don't wanna go anyway?" the blonde asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "What if I just wanna stay home?"

"Then you're out of luck," Brent points out, leading her through the living room and to the front door. "If I have to suffer another day of school, then so do you."

"Why can't I just stay home and be stupid?" Elizabeth sighs as Brent closes the door behind them. "All the kids tease me over my clothes."

"And why would they do that?" Brent stops on the sidewalk, turning to his sister.

"Because I like to wear blue," she shrugs, her eyes finding the snow-covered ground. "They said that it's a boy color . . . and that I should wear pink instead."

Brent looks to her clothes, finding the girl in her favorite long-sleeve Captain America shirt— one that she wore at least once a week because of her liking to it. He felt himself getting worked up over it, but kept himself composed to make an example.

"Well you know what?" Brent bends down, pulling her jacket together to zip it up. "You tell them that you can wear whatever you want because you are unique, and you don't need anyone else to tell you what you can and can't wear. Just because you don't dress exactly like them doesn't mean you aren't perfect just the way you are."

Elizabeth finds his eyes, the edge of her lips curling upwards as she jumps into his arms, squeezing him tightly. "Thank you, Brent."

"Anytime," he smiles, pulling her close. "Now lets go. We have places to be and people to tell off."

---

After bidding his sister goodbye at the elementary school, Brent find himself in the parking lot of the high school with Carter. The two make their way into the school building, Carter mentioning something he had heard on the news a few days back.

" . . . and it's supposedly the thirteenth school shooting this year. Isn't that crazy?" Carter frowns, shaking his head. "That worries me, Brent. You think it could happen here?"

"There's always a possibility," Brent states as they stop at his locker. "But who do you think would do it? We know everyone here, and I wouldn't suspect anyone would do something like that."

"True . . . " he trails off, running his fingers through his brown hair. "Anyway, have you talked to Claire and Odette about the movie tonight?"

"I have fourth period with Odette, so I plan on talking to her about it then," Brent says, putting in his combination. "I wouldn't want to bother her too much, so I'll wait."

"You know, I think she likes you," Carter points out, showing his pearly teeth as he grins. "She talks about you a lot."

Brent glances across the hallway to where Odette and Claire Rose talk, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips.

"One could only hope."

_______