CHAPTER 1: ONE WEEK AGO: Home and Bus

Ring~ Ring~ Ring~

"Aria, honey, get up now or you’ll be late,” Mom called from downstairs.

I groaned, pulled the pillow over my head. Just five more minutes. I barely slept—stayed up studying, and then had a weird dream. Something about a crow... or a raven? It left me feeling strange—neither good nor bad.

Ring~ Ring~ Ring~

“Ugh, fine.” I sat up, silenced my alarm, and rubbed my eyes.

The sky outside was perfectly blue, and the air felt crisp. On my study table, the sunflowers in the vase seemed to glow. I smiled and whispered a small prayer of gratitude.

My room’s small but cozy—bed by the closet, study table by the window, mirror to the right, door near the hallway. The peaceful vibe? All thanks to Mom.

We live on the second floor, next to my brother Kyle and my parents. Each room has its own bathroom—super convenient.

Knock, knock.

“Aria, the bus will be here in ten minutes! Your dad can’t drive you, so hurry. It’s the last day of school—you can sleep all you want tomorrow!”

From the smell upstairs, I guessed Mom had cooked something special. My stomach growled.

“I’m up, Mom! Be down in a few!” I shouted back.

I got up and did my routine—made the bed, closed the window, fixed the table, washed up, got dressed, brushed my hair, and put on my black wristwatch.

Heading to the kitchen, I smiled. It was one of my favorite places, just like our garden—Mom’s flowers and Dad’s herbs always made it feel peaceful.

At the dining table, my jaw nearly dropped—Mom went all out. It looked like a spread from a cooking show. Dad came in, silent as ever.

“Good morning, Dad. How was yesterday?”

“It was fine, thank you.”

Classic Dad—distant, but I know he cares. I wish he’d show it more.

“Where’s your brother? Call Kyle, please.”

“Sure.” I walked to the stairs and yelled, “Kyyyyyle! Get down here, you hard-headed teeennnager!”

His door opened. “Aaaaariaaa! You’re dead!”

I laughed as I returned to the kitchen. Mom shot me a look.

“Aria, don’t talk to your brother like that.”

I pouted. Before she could scold me, Dad interrupted sweetly, “Good morning, honey bunny. How was your day?”

I cringed. Here we go. Dad went full rom-com mode with Mom. It’s like he has two personalities—stoic with us, clingy with her. But I guess that’s just love.

Grandma once said Mom used to be a rebel and Dad was emo. Still hard to believe.

Back to the present—I had less than three minutes. I needed to eat and avoid Kyle.

He’s six feet tall, charming, and way too popular. Girls always compare us or use me to get close to him. But I know the real Kyle—he screams at cockroaches and runs from horror movies.

I stood on a chair to reach the top shelf, grabbed containers, and filled them with Vietnamese rolls, squid rings, lettuce, rice, and beef with broccoli.

Mom raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that too much?”

I grinned. “Just right for a hungry 17-year-old.” In truth, I wanted to share it with my friends. They always praised Mom’s cooking, and I loved it.

Just then, the bus honked. I heard Kyle’s footsteps thunder upstairs. Crap—my bag was by the couch, right in his path.

I grabbed the food, shouted, “Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad! Love you!” and bolted.

“Be careful,” Dad called out.

“If you drop that food, you’re cleaning it up!” Mom added.

At the stairs, Kyle was already coming down.

“You dumb girl!” he barked.

Ugh, not today. Clutching the containers, I ducked low, spun left, then right—dodged him perfectly.

“You freak!” I yelled, stuffing the food in my bag and rushing for the door.

The bus had just opened its door.

“Wait for me!” I shouted, sprinting past the gate, ignoring Kyle’s annoyed roar behind me.