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.

"If she registered late, she wouldn't be in the system yet, Karen," a woman with short black hair says sternly while entering the room from what I assume is her office.

I cross my fingers, hoping my mom remembered. I don't want to start school on the second day. I would stand out yet again. "ugh."

RYAN POV

Whelp, we are late. We need passes, and I need to prepare for the Coach lecture I will get.

"Whoever invented the snooze button needs to be sued," I say, and my sisters giggle.

"Morning, Principal Sheppard, Ms. Lee. Sorry, we are a bit late this morning," I say, and Ms. Lee smiles.

She shakes her head at me playfully before grabbing the pass pad. As her attention turns towards my sisters, I look around the room, and when I do, my world seems to pause. I faintly hear Ms. Lee introducing herself to the girls, but all my focus is on a waterfall of sandy waves.

A girl I haven't met before is talking to Mrs. Sheppard in hushed shouts with her cheeks blazing. Our district is small, and most of my classmates went to elementary with me. Seeing a stunning new face has got me frozen in my spot.

Mrs. Sheppard finally sighs and says, "I'm sorry, but until your mom shows up to fill out the paperwork, I can't do anything."

I feel bad for the nameless beauty. She looks embarrassed.

Suddenly I realize the new beauty has turned in my direction. She has her eyebrow raised and is saying something to me that I'm missing.

Wait, where did Mrs. Sheppard go? How long was I staring? I can feel the heat rising from my neck to my ears. I say the first thing that pops into my hormonal teenage boy brain, "Huh."

Idiot. I want to facepalm myself. She rolls her eyes and repeats, "Your hair is sticking up everywhere." In what sounds like a growl.

I instantly try to smooth my messy bedhead. Why was she being so rude? Probably because I just stared at her for lord knows how long. Remembering that I have been taught manners, I stretch out my hand.

"Sorry, Ryan Wilson," I introduce myself.

"Natalie Marshall," she says with the smallest of smiles.

Before I can say anything else, my hands are taken by my sisters, and I am led from the room. Sisters to the rescue!

"I should give you two superhero names for that save," I say before laughing out as we head down the hall to the locker rooms.

All three of us are familiar with the school's layout since Dad has been coaching here since before we were born. But Dad still made sure our schedules have classes as close together as possible. My parents and I worry about how the girls will do in the more crowded halls. Not to mention all the commotion of students compared to their last school.

Hanging out in an empty school while your dad grades history papers is different than them attending. Mind you, we don't think of them as incapable, just too sweet and innocent for their own good. As dad and I put it.

The girls are supposed to be in athletics, and I am late for the weight room. After walking with them to the girls' locker room, I run to the weight room. On the field and in the gym, dad is Coach first, and Dad second.

My feet lead me to a furious-looking football coach.

"Coach Wilson, I'm sorry for being tardy," I say before internally cringing from the intense glare while handing him my pass.

"Ryan, you are almost twenty minutes late. I expect more from my first-string running back. That's twenty laps. It would be best if you were more considerate of your team's time," he states with the most disapproving tone that I've heard in a while.

"Yes, sir," I reply, but before I can escape, Dad grabs my arm and whispers, "Are the girls okay?"

"Yes, Sir," I reply, and this time I say it with a smile.

Dad might be hard on me, but I know it's his way of caring.

NATALIE POV

People are here, listening to me try to plead my way into school. How freaking embarrassing!

"I can fill it out, and I will get her to sign it all tonight, please," I beg in a hushed voice.

The principal shakes her head at me.

"I'm sorry, but until your mom shows up to fill out the paperwork, I can't do anything," She says, turning back towards her office to call my mother, who I want to strangle.

"ugh."

I glance to my left to see if my humiliation is on display. Sure enough, a tall guy with chocolate hair and hazel eyes is staring at me.

"Great."

I raise my eyebrow. Does he not know staring is rude? I clear my throat, still nothing.

"You know your hair is all over the place," I say while trying to take the embarrassment off myself for a moment.

That seems to wake him up.

As if he is coming back to life, his eyes widen, and he pops out a confused, "HUH."

I roll my eyes and growl out, "your hair is sticking up everywhere."

He instantly looks embarrassed and begins smoothing his messy hair. Great Nat, be rude to the first student you meet for nothing. I immediately feel guilty for causing the massive blush on his face.

"Sorry, Ryan Wilson," he says while shaking my hand.

I'm shocked. I just insulted him, and he says, sorry.

"Natalie Marshall," I say while smiling weakly.

Before I know it, two short female versions of him appear out of nowhere, right beside him. They are identical girls, but one has thick glasses. The only reason I didn't jump out of my skin is they have the friendliest smiles on their little faces. They both grab his hands and begin to escort him from the room before I can process another word.