Behind The Masks

Chapter One

Chapter One

         Callie Anderson, your typical wallflower, or so she thought as she stared in the mirror at what was suppose to be the 'perfect first day of senior year' outfit. Her mother had helped her pick it out the night before, gushing over the different clothes in Callie's closet (the majority of which she never wore) and pairing items together. Most of the outfits were shot down by Callie right away. Too short. Too slutty. Too . . . not her. This one had seemed the lesser of all the evils. A pair of jeans, her favorite (comfortable) pair of converse, a flowery long shirt. It would work.

         Brushing her hair back, Callie pulled it back into a pony tail as she turned away from the mirror, her brown hair barely brushing the back of her neck as she pulled it up high. Hearing her mother yell about breakfast from downstairs, she grabbed her backpack before making her way down the stairs, and taking a right into the kitchen. Breakfast was indeed waiting on the table. At least her mother had tried: her favorite wheat toast, topped with her preference of peanut butter, mixed with melted butter, and scrambled eggs with cheese thrown in. Her mother really did try to make her day start out the best.

         But her mother had been trying too hard for the past couple of years. Ever since her father died in eighth grade, when Callie retreated with in herself, dropped out of Choir and drifted away from her former best friend. Now, senior year, Callie had grown used to being the wallflower she'd became - only seeming to come to life in drama (a class she'd accidentally ended up in during her ninth grade year - and had fallen in love with).

         Setting her bag by the chair, Callie sat down at the table before digging into the food her mother had set in front of her, staying silent as she ate as quickly as she could - wanting to get on her way to school before her mother could attempt to talk to her. She knew it was childish (and cowardly) the way she tried so hard to avoid being in a room with her mother for too long . . . but it felt easier. She and her mother no longer seemed to share the same likes. She wanted Callie to be popular, a cheerleader - to take choir again. Callie was happy where she was at. It was an on going 'fight'.

         "So, do you plan to try out for the cheerleading squad? It's your last year, baby? What are you taking this year? You used to love Choir." And it was already starting. Callie glanced up to see her mother peering at her expectantly, a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised over a clear blue eye. Callie had inherited her brown eyes from her father, as well as her brown hair. Plain. Her mother was blonde, blue eyed, and always well dressed. Today was no different with the business suit, likely bought out of a clothing magazine, but perfect for the real estate job her mother held. Her mother was everything Callie wasn't. Popular in her social group, beautiful, admired by many, successful . . . and poor Angela Anderson . . . with such a plain jane daughter.

         "Uhm, no I don't think so. I'm not much for cheerleading, mom. Besides, I'm taking Drama - that'll take all of my free time. I won't have time for anything like that . . . and I don't take Choir anymore." She couldn't bring herself to. It was on his way to her choir concert, back whens he was younger, that her father had been hit by the drunk driver. Every time she walked into the choir room, she remembered the police coming in to talk to her and her mom. She simply couldn't do it. "Look, mom. I gotta go, I can't be late on the first day. I'll . . . uh, see you when I get home, yeah?" She asked, standing up and slinging her bag onto her shoulder - leaving her half eaten breakfast on the table . . . she was no longer hungry.

         Her mother shook her head with a sad smile, "No darling, you won't . . . I have that meeting with Don and Marsha today. I'll be home late. I'll leave some money on the fridge, you can order pizza. Maybe you can invite Aaron over . . . it's been a while since he's been by." And there was the final bit her mother did every year. 'Where has Aaron been lately?' 'You used to be such good friends!' 'He is such a sweet boy, he said hi when I saw him walking out to his car, do you still talk to him?' The same old, same old. She and Aaron hadn't been friends since that same fateful year. She'd withdrawn from him . . . and he'd let go and never looked back. They barely glanced at each other when walking down the hall now a days. They lived in completely different worlds.

         Not bothering with a reply to her mother, Callie headed out to her car, unlocking the door and tossing her bag into the passenger seat as her phone chirped. Her heart fluttered at the name on the screen "Sean". She flicked the screen with her thumb, unlocking it before swiping to view the message. You win, Cal. The Grinch. Again. Callie couldn't help but smile, the knowledge that she'd won the bet they had twice a year - what play would done for the fall, and for the spring.

         Of course, the main reason for the smile was who the text was from. Sean and Callie had became friends when he moved to their town in tenth year, and bonded in drama. Over the years, Sean had been nothing more than a friend, but Callie was hoping this year would change that . . . that her crush would become something more. Sending back a quick response of Which means, you are buying lunch. I'm feeling Chinese today. It was the standard response when she won. A demand for chinese, knowing he'd complain about hating it, and they would eventually end up at the same mom and pop shop they went to for lunch two or three times a week. It was a ritual for them.

         Plugging her phone in, Callie flipped through her playlist before settling on hitting random to find a song, smiling as it hit one of the musical numbers from broadway. Singing quietly along, she made her way towards the school, knowing that Sean would be waiting for her by the doors, as usual. She barely gave a glance to the dark haired young man getting into his own car in the house across the street, knowing one glance at Aaron would have her good mood gone again. She hated to admit it, but she did miss her best friend.

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INCOMPLETE