Jack had been on his way to pick up Harley and drive her to school since her parents had left early for their jobs when his father called. And she couldn't walk there because it would take her the whole school day. "Not now, dad, I'm busy." He mumbled, stabbing the decline button. He'd never had a good connection with his parents. His father had always been busy in other parts of the world, which would probably mean at least his mother would stay at home, right? No. Her stupid fashion line was apparently more important than her son. And surely that would leave a little or older sibling, wouldn't it? No. Jack was an only child. That's why Ann, Harley, and Oliver were inseparable with him. They've been best friends since kindergarten, helping each other out, or just hanging around and having fun. They were like siblings. On some days, they had fun. Other days, they argued. And the rest, they got into trouble and caused mischief. Anyway, Jack finally pulled in front of Harley's house, a medium-sized cottage. He honked the horn in his blue pickup, signaling he was ready, and out she came. Today, her blood red hair was ties up in a bun, showing off her almond brown eyes, and making her perfectly tan skin glow under the sun's warm rays. She wore a black crop, paired with a denim skirt, and country boots. Jack reached over and opened the door for her. "Morning, Harley. Ready for school?" She slid in, and buckled herself to the middle seat, her backpack between her feet on the floor. "Oh, Jacky-jack, I was born ready!" You know how every friend group has the confident and cocky person in it? Well, that was Harley. And, just like the rest of their group, she babied him. He never knew why. Maybe it was because his mother and father were always too busy. Maybe it was because he was the youngest at sixteen. Whatever reason, he drove off right at the speed limit, and they made their way to school. "Are you ready?" Harley asked him, taking his pale hand in her tan one as a comforting, sisterly gesture. "Yeah." He lied, looking at his rear view. His skin was so pale, his friends had nicknamed him corpse. The bags under his night-sky eyes were so dark, anyone who didn't know him would think he angered a guy so bad, he received two black eyes instead of one. And his poofy, blonde hair made him look like a eleven year old, along with his height. He was a short sixteen year old. And his black hoodie and matching ripped jeans paired with his black sneakers made him look like he was going to a funeral. It usually made people turn away from him and ignore him. But he liked it that way. "You aren't ready, are you?" Harley asked him, stirring him from his thoughts. He didn't answer, and concentrated on finding a spot in the high school's parking lot, close to the entrance. Once he parked, he took the keys, shouldered his pack, and got out, locking the doors after Harley. He sighed, knowing this would be a long day, and trudged behind his non-releated sister.