Presley? Mrs. Presley, are you all right?"Bobby gently lowered his mother to the floor. He sat with her sitting between his spread legs, her back resting against him, her sobs getting louder. He picked up the telephone and said, "This is Bobby Presley." Is your mother still there?" She fell and is crying. What did you say to her?" There was a plane crash and..."Bobby didn't hear any more. He dropped the phone and hugged his mother to him and gently rocked her.The airline eventually sent someone to the house and he went over the logistics. He took a sample from Bobby to be used for DNA testing to identify his father. It had been a horrific crash with a lot of fire. Until they were able to identify the remains, which could take several days, nothing could be done. Then they'd transport Bobby's father to the funeral home for burial.When the airline representative left, Bobby and his mother hugged and cried. Then they went to bed.Bobby lay on his back staring at the ceiling, his hands. A third wheel was more like it. We were at highschool, in grade 8, getting ready for P.E in the dressing rooms. I stared into the mirror at my long golden hair, running my fingers through the knotless ends, staring at my own hazel eyes. I'm... not gorgeous, I thought to myself, looking over my shoulder at the group of girls by the dressing lockers, in their bras and panties. Hailey, the emost popular girl, a beautiful cheerleader and dude magnet, smiled at her possy, in her black lace bra and matching panties. "Isn't it smexy?" She grinned, posing and her friends laughed. I had no friends in the dressing room at the moment, but luckily, usually both gym classes played a game on fridays, which was today, and my friend had the same gym class as me. I slipped on my black tank and buttoned the straps of my bra and pulled on Adidas slim back shorts, checking my ass to make sure there wasn't any underwear lines. I added some deoderant and perfume. "Hey, like the shorts." One of Hailey's.
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