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“Just Another Day”

Chapter One: Shy Girl

As you already know my name is Calypso Rayne of all things. I know, what were my parents thinking? I always got jokes about my name obviously but I dealt. I always just used to reply back that if I ever became famous I would have the perfect stage name. The problem with my name is the cruel irony. It is the name of someone pictured to be gorgeous, become this fabulous model, and be known by many. And I was none of the above, and knew I never could be. I was never exactly pretty. Not saying I was hideously ugly either, just….not rock ‘em sock ‘em pretty. I know what people say, that looks don’t matter, that they are only skin deep. But do you notice it’s the pretty people who say it? Those old sayings mean nothing, because in today’s not so fabulous world, they DO matter.

I’m the youngest in a family of three children, with older siblings who always seemed to do everything perfect, and then there was me. I always knew I was supposed to live up to them. All through school I aced courses, but I’m a shy girl. Let me just say that now. I blend easy into the background. Making friends was always my biggest trouble. I was teased constantly as a child so I grew up untrusting and alone. My siblings were much older than me. A brother and a sister and the closest in age to me was twelve years older. My sister Blossom. Yeah you can tell my parents were creative with the girl’s names. My brother just got lucky. Always was I compared to Blossom. She was perfect. Great grades, went to college, married her high school sweetheart, and got this amazing job right out of school. Her husband, who I knew since birth almost, also came from a rich family. And did I mention she was drop dead gorgeous? Reddish brown hair, hazel eyes, winning smile, perfect body. Everything I wasn’t, just about. She never had the problems I always did with people. She was smart. She was successful and gorgeous and now had an adorable baby girl. I wanted my sister’s life, seeing as my life was nothing compared to her perfect one.

Now I know I’m going on and on but bear with me because I swear eventually you’ll see how this is just relevant. I know you need to see just how I was and how I felt. How would you feel having the perfect sister who was twelve years older than you? Yes that big of a gap. I was the accident of the family. Every family has one, I guess. I was the “surprise” as my parents always told me.

Then there is my brother Jonathon Dale. Yeah, he’s known to the family as Johnny D but that’s random information I really didn’t have to tell you. Did I warn you that I talk a lot? It’s weird, if I don’t know you I’m quiet as a mouse but then as we get to know each other I tend not to shut up. I don’t mean to. Sorry but I sort of do so forgive me now. What was I saying? Oh back to my brother. He was the fatherly acting sibling. He’s also eighteen years older than me. He went into the Air Force, did school and came out in the perfect child land. He’s a publicist for NHRA racing. Meets famous people and gets to travel all over the country. He is in love with his girlfriend who he should just marry already. Also, he’s very handsome and suave, dark brown hair, deep brown eyes, charming smile he got from our mother. Both my brother and sister think they should run my life. They think they know what’s best but they don’t know or even consider just what I might want.

Now, try growing up to that. Being pulled aside by your parents (who made HUGE mistakes as they were growing up, as I found out as I myself grew up) asking you constantly “Why can’t you be like Blossom? Why can’t you be like Johnny?”.

Yeah, makes you feel like you’re never enough doesn’t it? That brings me back to where I started in this explaining thing. I was never pretty like my sister. I was a little more than slightly overweight but I wasn’t enormous by any means. I was in between huge and skinny I guess you could say. My hair was long and pretty, but a plain dark and dirty blond color. My eyes, one of the few features I did like on myself were shadowed by glasses. They were pretty though, I liked how they were just a solid blue. The glasses were nice frames but on my face no glasses looked good. I had a nice size gap in between my main two front teeth and any time I smiled I knew it looked fake even if it was sincere. I got told to have a “real” smile, my entire life. My face had chipmunk cheeks and I was the epitome of not ugly, but far from pretty. That was me. Guys never noticed me as more than a girl to buddy around with. One of the guys. The best I ever got was being a sister to them.

I was always a tomboy. More comfortable in jeans than a skirt. My hair always tied back, and rather be playing football than ever going near make up. I was too shy to ever ask a guy out, or even go up to a person first. All my life I had had few friends. My two closest friends, Sebastian and Teddy, had left town and I felt alone. Both guys had been the ones I trusted most, my confidants and now it was more restricted to calls and emails. I missed them dearly. Both were a little older than I, Sebastian two years older and Teddy only a year older. So they graduated before I did as a result. Sebastian was over at NYU, and Teddy was sailing around the world in the navy. What did I do once I graduated? (My High School yearbook maybe had 10 signatures if that, my senior year. By the way.) I stayed in town. Much to my parent’s disappointment, I went to the local community college. Living at home till I could earn money to move out. All we did was constantly argue. I wanted to be an artist. I loved to paint. I knew I was good at it too. However, like I said before, I was smart. I liked learning and had an interest in psychology that my family knew about. So while I wanted to pursue an art career, they wanted to push me into psychology.

Don’t get me wrong, I liked learning about it, but I didn’t think I could do it every day for a living and still be happy. The way I knew I could be with art. I’m a free spirit, plain and simple, I love creativity in any form and I like to do things my own way when it comes to my personal things. By that I mean well my way of thinking and expressing myself. My family, I love them but, they refused to listen to that. I knew going into something like psychology would just stifle me and make me feel like I was being forced to live in the mold I was starting to hate. So we fought. Constant arguing. All I wanted to do was make them happy. Always had. All my life I had changed myself over and over again to fit the mold and I never could really. I was upset, alone, and frustrated. I had no social life to be honest. I got home from school, (I had no car, so I got rides, I walked, rode the bus, or rode my bike) painted, showered, got on the internet out of boredom, and then talked to my few friends on the phone. That about summed it up. Oh and then add either fighting with parents, or visit from family members or calls, criticizing what I’m trying to do with my life.

That was it. That was all I was then. Not much of a life I suppose. It was all I had though. I tried hard to be noticed growing up by others but when I wasn’t, well by the time I turned eighteen I had given up on it. With good reason too. What guy would want a plain wallflower like me?

So at the time this was just another day I had to deal with. I was heading towards the store to pick up a few things I needed to stuff in my bag as I rode my bike home from school. More or less I was partly avoiding going home. I wasn’t looking forward to another fight and my cell had been ringing off and on all day. Yeah I had a cell. Gift from parents for Christmas when I was seventeen. Cell but not a car, sheesh.

I wasn’t really paying attention to were I was going as I talked to the one female friend I had who was decently close to me on the phone. I navigated sort of as I talked. As long as I didn’t crash I was all good. I’ve always been sort of a klutz.

Understatement of the year I guess.

“Izzy come on, I’m sure you’ll pass your finals fine.” Isabella Rivera was her name. She was freaking beautiful but not with the perfect body. Frustrated me to see it was possible but I couldn’t have it. She was a year younger than me and still in high school. She was graduating in a few months though.

“You say that cause you did it all last year!” I heard her reply with a small wail. She was planning on going to UCLA. My parents had heard that and went on about how I was just being lazy for going to community college. Maybe I was, but it was my mistake to make if it was one, but they didn’t wanna let me make it. They wanted to live my life for me.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at my friend. She was pretty smart and she usually worried for nothing when it came to things like this. “Relax! You’ll get accepted to UCLA and you’ll pass these set of finals fine. Now are we still on for movies and food with a few of your guy friends later?” Isabella was popular with guys in a way I never could be. She usually brought new ones each time and we hung out and I was always shy and awkward no matter how hard I tried not to be. And if they did like me, they ended up as just another guy on the “buddy/like sister” list of friendships and relationships.

“I can’t! I’m sorry Cally but I gotta study.”

I frowned and rode my bike as I talked, not really paying attention now. I knew these streets far too well anyway. I knew I was going in the right direction so that was all that mattered. “Iz! Come on I need to get out!”

“Then go out, look I’m sorry-”

“With who. My circle of friends is severely limited as it is. “ I sighed, there went any chance of avoiding home for the night.

“We’ll go out tomorrow ok, I swear.”

“You swear.”

“Yes! Good god stop spazzing.”

“I’m not, just irky. Alright Iz, but you freaking owe me and-” I stopped there cause out of the corner of my eye I saw someone right in my way, I swerved crazily not to run into him with my bike. So instead I ended up losing balance and crashed along the sidewalk. My phone slid away on the ground and I could hear Izzy saying, “Hello? Hello? Cally you there?” People walked right on by, stared at me as they snickered. Great another humiliation to add to the long list of times I already had. Times where I embarrassed the hell out of myself cause I didn’t think and because I was what I liked to call “Gracefully Challenged.”

I groaned, even better lets scratch myself up even more. That would attract the guys alright. I couldn’t believe my spaceyness and my klutziness. Is spaceyness a word? Oh well guess I invented one. Then a hand that only had a wedding band adorning it reached down for me and I took it. I let the person help me up. I glanced up to see a cute, kind looking man. I would’ve guessed him to be about five years older than myself, with sandy blonde hair and twinkling blue eyes. There was something almost familiar about him, but I shrugged it off. I was way too focused on how embarrassed I was too think about it.

“Look I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking and did I hurt you? I’m just a total space and a klutz and thanks for helping me up and stuff and you sure you’re ok?” I laughed nervously as I kept my gaze on anything else. I reached over for my cell where Isabella already had hung up. I would have to apologize later. “So yeah I’m sorry Mr.…” I was trying so hard not to ramble and yet I kept going. My mouth really has no button.

He chuckled and gave me a silly smile. “You know there is a time for everything, even a time for silence”

I smiled weakly back, I knew my face was red from embarrassment. Could I just crawl into a hole and live the rest of my life there? “That’s from Ecclesiastes right?” Not big on the faith, but I still knew a couple things. Yay me for having found something to say!

He smiled with a nod, looking a bit surprised I think at me knowing that off the top of my head. What can I say, my mom’s side of the family is heavily religious. “Yes it is.“

We both stay quiet for a few minutes. He watches me and laughs. “And you are…”

“Oh, I’m Calypso Rayne. Call me Cal, or Cally, that’s what everyone else does.”

“Unique name.”

I nodded. “I get that a lot.”

“I’m Chase, by the by. Do you often meet people by almost killing them with a bike?” He joked, setting it back on its kickstand for me.

“Maybe I need collision insurance.” I joked quietly. “This is why its probably safer for the world if I never get a car.”

He laughed. Chase watched me as if he expected me to act a certain way. I guess I didn’t. He looked surprised by that. “I know, I was scared to get a car when I first got it too. I put it off. But I knew I couldn’t be as bad as my friend, he’s clumsy enough to make your bike incident look graceful.”

“Mine’s more from lack of cash flowing” I replied softly with a laugh, my eyes trained on something behind him. Damn my shyness. “Life of a college student. I need a new job.”

“What are you studying?”

“I’m majoring in art right now and not sure what my Minor will be but on the other end of the spectrum I have an interest in psychology.”

“Really?” His face took on a new look of interest. “That’s a great subject. I took a few classes when I was in high school. I really liked it myself.”

“Yeah it is, it just I dunno…what’s the word….oh, intrigues me.”

“It’s useful too sometimes.“

I could not help but smirk a little. “Yeah I can analyze my crazy fam.“

He laughed, “My friends and family aren’t what most would consider normal either.“

I started feeling more at ease for the conversation. He had a vibe about him that made you feel comfortable. “Yeah but I don’t want a career in it. I can‘t see myself enjoying it as a living.”

“Exactly. I never wanted to pursue it either.”

“What do you do?”

Chase gave me an impish smile then. His ceruleans eyes sparkled as if they contained a secret. “I dabble some in music…”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, music is the voice of the soul, of God even, to be poetic and preachy at the same time.” I wasn’t surprised at another religion mention. He did seem the type to be into that, just a vibe I was able to get from him and all. Plus the southern twang in his voice, not to be all stereotype-y, but south usually means big on religion.

Another laugh escaped from me. “Any art is like that.”

“You sound like you’d know.“

“We’ll just say I dabble in painting. I love the expressive-y -ness of it.“

“Nothing is better, but sometimes it can have a price…”

I was about to ask what he meant, when he glanced at his watch and spoke before I could.

“You visiting LA Cally?”

“Oh I live here.” My smile was uncomfortable and small despite how at ease I felt. I never smiled fully in front of people I didn’t know well. I never liked the idea of letting them see my fake looking and not so great smile. “I go to school at CCLA”

Chase nodded, beaming at me. “I would talk more but I was on my way to pick up a friend actually. He called and now I got to help his troublesome behind.” He said with slight annoyance; but I could tell whoever it was, Chase cared about the person. “We should hang out sometime.” Chase then pulled out a pen, and jotted the number lightly upon my hand.

Shyly I told him mine as well. I always had a hard time being able to tell if people were being sincere. Well good time to risk it I guess. It was just a vibe I got off of him I felt I had to trust. Besides, what would it hurt to exchange numbers? If something bad happened I would have my cell number changed, no big.

“Other than my wife I don’t meet many women who are worth talking to.” See? I’m always a friend. Le sigh. Why am I even surprised? I knew he had to be taken. He gave me a winning grin. “So I have to nab you as a friend. I’ll see you later Cally. God bless.”

I watched him head off. “Later Chase.” I said quietly and started riding again. I didn’t know if he heard me but it didn’t matter. I now had to head home and deal with the daily disappointment as usual. This new friend just went to the back of my mind, temporarily forgotten. The way I had thought I would be forgotten to him. I’m not very memorable. Never was.