Chapter 1

Orange juice. It's so delightfully refreshing and cool that when it falls down through your throat and trickles into your stomach you can't help but feel better. The rain was raging, the wind was whistling; homework had been aging like wine and the weight of eternal complication had slumped down heavier than the thick, white fog that now suffocated all life from the outside world. This day was in need of a large supply of orange juice.

Slamming the glass with all the force of an after-shot drunken state, Caprice stood up from her mostly-eaten breakfast of scrambled eggs and ketchup to face the day with a brand new and replenished outlook that resonated from her juice-filled stomach. The kitchen was a little on the small side and had been redecorated to suit her mother's taste. The walls were a very pale green and had white cupboards and a hardwood floor. It was a room worthy of Martha Stewart. Off to one side was a small, round table with a few chairs and, sitting upon one of them, was Caprice. As it was excruciatingly early for a teenager to be awake, she stretched out her entire self like a cat unknowingly clawing the couch fresh after a nap, and as this was done, Caprice caught a glimpse of the electric green numbers on the microwave which identified that she was indeed late for school, again. Panic immediately struck her expression and fight or flight syndrome came into play. Oh, the excitement! Thrashing about like a wild boar in captivity, so was Caprice, desperately searching for the homework which had seemed so time-consuming last night. Success! Another quick check in the mirror as the door banged closed and sealed the gateway from her warm eggs and refreshing orange juice to the cold air and dampening lawn.

Caprice was always late--for school anyhow. Yet for everything else she was either on the dot or substantially early. During her ten-minute tread to school, she always fantasized the time away with stories of her future fame and sure-fire success which always involved stadiums of fans and many hard times in the future's past. She had a very dreamy appearance to her which emanated from her thoughts. Her hair was long, slightly wavey and chocolate-brown, which swayed from side to side as she walked. The locks made their way down to her simple, plain-coloured outfit. Earthy colours like brown, green and orange made up about 90% of her wardrobe. Matching her plain and simple clothing, was her plain and simple figure. Thin, normal-looking and athletic in build with a tall and straight posture which set her apart from others her age yet still enabled her to continue with this trend of simplicity. Though Caprice's appearance was very basic and bland, the same could not be said about her life and the innerworkings of her mind. Her mind was so complicated that to complicate her wardrobe would be too much to take and all hell would break loose.

The rain beat hard on her umbrella and soon the wind joined in the taunting. Caprice used the umbrella that used to be her grandmother's decades ago. It was various shades of brown and orange and the shapes and patterns had that distinct '60s feel to it. The handle was wooden with a dark espresso finish. It felt well-made, however, it was old and the wind was a little too much for it to take. Harder and harder the rain grew with each passing step of the way. The wind and rain challenged each other's strength until what started as a playful game, evolved into a full-out war. Crack! The umbrella broke. Oh what a sad day this was. Now that her favourite umbrella had perished, it hardly seemed worth it to continue from that moment on. Yet Caprice quickened her pace so as not to get soaked and finally she reached the school--sopping wet.

She dripped through the halls. She dripped up the stairs. And she dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, DRIPPED to her locker. The announcements had already begun. Stuffing her belongings into her locker and skillfully retrieving her books, she lunged at her locker in order to lock it and then walked off to class. She walked confidently and efficiently so no one would catch on to her real self. In reality she was not in the least bit confident. Though there was nothing immediately wrong with her appearance, she always found something that irked her. And it wasn't just her appearance, oh no, her entire being was under acute scrutiny at all times. If she said the wrong thing, laughed the wrong way or did anything at all conceivably wrong, then she would never forgive herself. As for efficiency, that at least was more or less true.

The day went by in a blurr of rushing and scurrying from one place to the next. Caprice always had a million things to do each day and miraculously, she got almost everything done. It was now the end of the last class and Caprice had gone to her locker to put her books away.

"Coming to Film Club today?"

Ben had walked up to Caprice at the end of the day and nestled his head against the wall, expecting a positive answer. Ben was a tall guy, about 6 feet tall with chestnut brown hair and flecks of gold in it. His clothing was always loose and comfortable and, come to think of it, his personality was just the same, loose and comfortable. His presence was always relaxing and often times sleep-inducing. He usually went to Film Club. Not that it was the most exciting place to be, but it was an excuse to hang out with some friends, watch some movies and occasionally learn something. The club was run by two over-ambitious teachers who were working at their one last feeble attempt to make a name for themselves in the world. Last week the club had studied a recent stop-motion animation film, comparing the real scenes with the corresponding storyboards. The teachers had been so overjoyed that it didn't matter if no one else cared.

Caprice stuffed her textbook in her locker and without even looking up said, "No, I can't--I'm busy."

Ben looked shocked, "Busy? What on earth is more important than Film Club? Come on, don't leave me here on my own.", the masterful puppy-face looked at her with longingful, despairing eyes. He pulled that face every time he wanted something that he knew would be a lost cause.

"I have to go see a counsellor tonight. My mom's worried about me, she thinks I'm going crazy." She chuckled. Caprice always thought that if she delivered news in a funny manner, it would cease to be so uncomfortable, but that didn't always work. With Ben though, it worked like a charm.

"Alright, I guess you can go and...and...", sniff,"leave me! Hehe. See ya tomorrow, bye!" With that he sauntered off to the cafeteria not seeming to care why Caprice was going to see a counsellor, not seeming to care if she was okay. He was too preoccupied with the silly Film Club. That made Caprice a little angry. Why couldn't he care just a little? Although, she thought, she did use humour to make it sound better, and she was quite convincing therefore it was her own fault if he didn't seem to care. That thought satisfied her for a bit until she had to start her journey towards facing up to the real world, her real life and her very real problems.