Saving the Wilsons

Natalie POV

"Home." I hate the word. What's a home? I don't live in a home. I live in a crappy apartment-the third crappy apartment this year, to be exact. Mom recently broke up with boyfriend number one million. So we moved, again, to start from scratch. She is definitely in her "I'm single and miserable mood."

Another new school district and another new apartment. Luckily for me, it is late August, so for once, I am starting school with everyone else. Being the new kid doesn't bother me anymore. I learned a long time ago to stand up for myself and not let others put me down. Any hurt I feel, I keep it on the inside.

I roll out of bed and hit the floor, running.

I already have my outfit picked for the first day, so time to shower and apply my makeup.

I love being prepared. It puts me at ease to have plans. When my plans get messed up, I usually panic or get super anxious. This morning is all planned out, though, and I should be out of the apartment by 7:15, at the latest. The new apartment is just down the street from my new high school. So I shouldn't be late at all.

Once this senior year is finally over, I will be able to put my plan of becoming a nurse into action. Nursing is a good choice because it is reliable and pays well. I'm not too concerned with the hard work involved in becoming a nurse. I love keeping my mind busy, so hard work is fun.

I get ready on autopilot. I have my routine down, and I am pretty skilled at makeup application. Something Shannon aka mom, always stresses is appearance. She always wants to impress the men around her. I do not understand her constant need for male companionship. Why am I not enough to make her happy? "Dumb woman."

I look at my handy work in the mirror and smile. I feel pretty today.

I have wavy light brown hair and a curvy athletic figure. I am proud of these features. I'm not that into my eyes, though. My eyes are big, which is good, and they are framed with thick, naturally long curved lashes. They are primarily brown, which I like, but the left eye has a big blue patch in it. I constantly find myself wishing they were just brown.

My left eye made me feel like a freak sometimes. Constantly being the new kid means always hearing people comment about my "cool" eye every time I change schools. It gets old and annoying.

Finally, I finish looking myself over and head out of my room. I walk down the narrow hall towards the front door with a determined walk. I am ready. Mom's slight throat-clearing has me halting at the front door before I can make my escape. As I turn around to see her looking at me, I feel that all too familiar pain growing in my chest.

She looks bored having to talk to me. Like it's a chore she dislikes. She is leaning against the kitchen counter with her wavy brown hair, identical to mine, pulled up in a ponytail. In all honesty, my mom could be my twin. The only difference between us is her frown lines and my weird eye.

Suddenly I feel terrible for her. She looks lonely. I quickly dismiss the thought, though. She frequently makes me feel lonely, so why should I worry about her loneliness?

"I will be at the casino when you get out of school," she says while taking a drag from her morning cigarette.

I cringe. I want to rip the nasty stick out of her hands. Disgusting things, they were going to kill her one day. I feel like I am her parent more than she is mine. She got pregnant with me at seventeen, and, in my opinion, she never really grew up.

I want to mutter "figures" at her announcement, but I don't. My mother and I also share a temper. If she were to hear my sarcastic remark, it would mean a fight which would result in me being late.

So instead, I say, "Okay, I have a shift tonight anyways, have fun."

I get out of the apartment and look at my watch, 7:12 is perfect timing. I walk to school with my head up and my body full of as much confidence as I can muster. I wish my mom would spend time with me, but I'm not a dog. I won't beg for scraps of attention from my mother.

Ryans POV

"I am not ready for another school year," I mutter while turning off my phone alarm.

I'm sore all over. Football practice started two weeks ago, and coach, aka dad, is killing my out-of-shape muscles.

I glance at my phone and realize it is 7:30 am already.

Crap!

Basketball shorts, a t-shirt, and brushed teethed are all I have time for. I race down the stairs while hollering for the girls.

My twin sisters are extremely special to me, and this is their first year of high school.

While shoving my Nikes on as fast as possible, I hear my mom greet the girls behind me.

"Don't be nervous high school is just like middle school," she says, and I turn around to grin at Stacy and Lacy.

"Yeah, and just like middle school, No Boys," I fake growl, and both girls giggle.

Stacy and Lacy both have special needs. They are identical twins but don't have identical issues. Lacy has two hearing aids and thick glasses but is otherwise an ordinary fourteen-year-old girl. She is the leader of the two. Stacy only has one hearing aid and is a little delayed in maturity. She behaves more like a ten-year-old and is very sensitive. I love them both dearly. They both know how to sign and read lips. My parents and I all learned sign language for the girls years ago.

I gather our bags while mom is signing and mouthing encouragement to them. Both girls prefer to sign at home. I wrap one arm around Mom to silently reassure her that I have the girls' backs before stretching my other hand out to the girls so they can take their bags from me.

"Meet you in the car," I say.

Once the girls are out the door, I look down at Mom with a knowing smile. The Big Brother duty speech is coming.

She ignores my smile and looks at me sternly, "You watch out for them, Ryan Wilson. Public school will be a huge adjustment."

I kiss her forehead, smirking, "They are safe with me, Mom."

Grinning and grabbing my cheek like I'm four, she pushes me towards the door "Now hurry, or Dad will give you laps."

Dad has been my football coach since I was four and the high school's head coach for 22 years. He hates tardiness and likes to reward students who are tardy with laps. I bolt to the car, not wanting the extra laps.

"Buckled up? Ready to go," I ask the girls.

After two small "yes," I pull out of the driveway.

Dad and I finally won the argument that the girls should be in public school about three months ago during a weekly family meeting. Mom is terrified, and to be honest, I am starting to feel nervous also. I know the girls want to be closer to Dad and me, but I worry my sisters will be teased.

I push down my butterflies for them while pulling into the parking lot. This is going to be very different than their Christian Private school, but if anyone bullies my sisters, I will throw my nice guy image out the window.

They unbuckle and climb out. I give them a warm smile before taking their little hands in mine. No going back now.

NATALIE POV

"I'm sorry, Ms. Marshall, but I'm not seeing you in the system," the school receptionist says while slightly frowning, and I sig

"This is a bit embarrassing, but it is possible my mom forgot," I mumble while silently thinking...again.