Chapter 4- New School New Me

Sage's POV

The paintbrush swiftly glides across the canvas as colours explode, blissfully filling the emptiness of the white spaces. Blots of paint is smeared in different angles and directions, manifesting an alluring image. An image that I am currently unaware of, my mind is blank but the paintbrush moves steadily as if it has been already created before. When in this state of mindless action, never have I ever created the same image twice but never have I ever seen this image before. It is this knowing that the images are real, that they have occurred or will occur.

"Sage!" My cousin, Amber, shouts.

I blink my eyes are couple times, removing me from my trance.

I look at the finished masterpiece. There are two groups of people standing opposite each other with an ombre light, illuminating between them. Behind them is another group of people that I cannot seem to make out.

"Sage!"

My thoughts are interrupted by Amber.

I will figure it out later.

I leave the basement where my aunt and uncle have been so kind as to let me have this space for my artistic endeavours.

"Sage!"

"Yes," I yell back at her.

No reply.

"Amber!" I call out again.

Silence.

Ugh.

I set my paintbrush down and I close all the different colours of paint. I exit the basement and I walk down the beige, narrow hall to the kitchen and living room. My cousin is standing there plucking grapes from the clear glass bowl. The kitchen is small with an attached counter where my cousin sits. The wooden design gives the place a rustic finish. The living room is complete with a small wooden table in the center, separating the TV and the plush sofas.

"Yes," I say annoyed.

"We are going to be late on your first day," she says, leisurely eating the grapes.

She clearly isn't in any rush either.

I take in a deep breath and prepare some toast. This toaster is a magical one. Will the toast ever stay down? Never! This broken contraption needs to be constantly touched otherwise it will never function.

Sounds like some people I know.

I look over at Amber and smirk.

"What?" she asks quizzically looking at me.

"Good morning, Ladies," My uncle Carmichael waltz into the kitchen, nearly knocking into my Aunt Mischelle.

"Be careful," Aunt Mischelle squeals as she tugs on her thin jacket.

"Loosen up, my darling," He leaves a peck on her cheek and I see my cousin fake vomit as he does this. I laugh and continue prepping my exquisite breakfast. Nobody can really touch butter on toast. It is a fact that is not up for discussion.

My uncle and aunt are the epitome of love. It is the kind of love where you would wish your knight in shining armour came with a plaid T shirt and socks and sandals to come dashing in on his mighty steed of a 2013 Toyota Corolla. Their relationship is the kind I wish to tell my kids about but considering the men in this generation it might actually be setting their standards too high, but it is something worth mentioning to them because maybe there is someone out there, someone who is still a sweet gentleman, caring father and a loving husband. I sound delusional like I am wrapped up in some fantasy fairy tale and hoping for a prince, but I am being realistic. I am not looking for a prince. I am looking for a decent human being. Is that too much to ask for? What if there were really men out there like this? Would I be able to find someone as sweet and caring as my uncle is to my aunt?

I realise I have been holding down the button for too long and my toast is burnt. I let go of the button as watch remorsefully as the charred piece of bread pops up attentively.

"And on the breakfast menu is…. black toast," Uncle Carmichael speaks as if he is a game show host, "You got unlucky there, kiddo."

"I don't discriminate… all toast should be accepted," I say tilting my nose up in the air, "Black Lives Matter."

I throw a wink at my cousin as she rolls her eyes. Her attitude today is off the charts. Nothing unusual.

"We are getting late."

I wonder if she actually realises how good of a relationship her parents have and how she is living in a pretty stable household. Not many people can have that. I would say it is a luxury to find something like this in today's world. Something that should be cherished.

My uncle opens the door for my aunt and let's us go in front of him as he locks up the house. He runs a little bit, making sure to open the car door for my aunt. Seeing them makes me so happy.

"Can we please take TJ for spin?" My cousin pleads with me.

I groan.

"Okay," I say, giving in as she puts on her best puppy dog eyes.

We go to the garage and take off the white protective sheet that lays above my beloved TJ. A squeal sounds in the air, making me want to tear off my ear drums but I got to admit I am very proud of my chartreuse Lamborghini Essenza SCV12. The doors open upwards and I can't help myself from jumping in almost on the same excitement level as my cousin. Oh, it feels so good to be in here again. The crisp, musky scent of herbs fills the air. My element.

I back out from the driveway. My phone connects to the car radio and I shuffle through the songs in my playlist. I smirk as I turn the radio up.

"All girls are the same…." The radio sings.

I laugh as my cousin groans, covering her ears as I drive to school.

"I am not listening to this depressing, condescending music," Amber whines.

"It is not condescending, I for one think it speaks about the generation we have become.."

"It is literally comparing all the girls in the world."

"I just think the song applies as a generalization but to those who are offended by it. So Amber, all girls are the same."

"Change it."

"Fine. Calm yourself," I chuckle as I change the song.

I follow Ambers instructions and in about 30 minutes we are driving into the school. The security guards wave to us as we pass the front gates. The school is surrounded by vibrantly, tall trees and lush greenery. There are netball and basketball courts as well as an Astro field. I take a left and we come to the entrance of the school.

"Park over there," Amber points and I follow her directions.

We jump out of the car and we clearly drew some attention to ourselves. We walk down a long hall and stop by the black lockers. I had picked up my timetable the previous day so I knew the classes I had and I then started packing my locker. I turn around to stand to find Amber but instead I knock into another girl. All I see is a falling body and I reach out to catch her by her arm. She stands up and pulls her hand away from me.

"The audacity this bitch has," she spits out the words.

There are three people behind her and they all look at me in disgust.

"I am sorry," I say.

"My name is Sage, it is pleasure to meet you," I give her my hand to shake.

She just scoffs at me as the girl behind her speaks.

"Janice will not touch your hand," she scoffs at me.

"Leave her alone," Amber comes from behind me, "Let's go this way."

Amber is trying to guide me away from them but Janice steps in front of me.

"Actually," Janice speaks, "Would you like to come to my party at Candace's house on Friday night?"

"No Janice.."

"Actually, yes," I interrupt her, "I will see you there."

"Good," she says as she sashays away.

"Amber what do you think you are doing?" Amber asks with concern laced in her voice.

"I have to make friends somehow, Amber."

"But not with them."

"Yeah, but doesn't a party sound great."

"The Pretty Girl Quad is not the people you should mess with."

We start walking to our next class while we are talking.

"Who are they anyway-"

I am interrupted when I walk into hallway and a boy and girl look at me quizzically.

"Who are you?" They both say.