36I threw the door of my brother's house open with a bang I didn't hear at all. For once, I didn't have my headphones in, listening to my favorite music. This time, I was absorbed in conversation. My attention span was probably shorter than a mouse, so I wasn't really all that surprised I hadn't thought about the noise we were making until Matt mentioned it to me later.
I kicked off my flip-flops as I struggled to listen to the Twins babbling on about something I should know about. They usually expected me to follow along with what they were both saying and I usually could keep up, but I pretty much gave up on it after we got on the bus from school.
As for the Twins, they kept on shouting. They weren't arguing about anything, really. They were pretty much just yelling at each other just to get out some pent up frustrations from school out. I was used to it after five years of the same weekly routine with them. Yes, this happened every Wednesday. Why that day? Because they both seemed to hate it, for it was in the center of the week and farthest from either weekend.
The Twins were my two best friends, even though they were always yelling about something. My best friend, of the two of them, was Jane. She was younger by a few minutes, and her brother was always using it against her. She was a few inches shorter than him, at 5'5. She had naturally blond hair that she was meticulous about dying a shade of auburn brown with a tint of red-purple. Her eyes were big and bold, with thick lashes. She was the only one I knew that could make cool, icy blue eyes and her hair color match in a way that looked totally amazing.
The other half to the Twins, was Ziggy. His real name was Zachary, but everyone called him Ziggy. He didn't mind; in fact, I thought that he liked having a cool nickname. He was a bit taller than Jane and I both. She and I were the same height and he was around 5'11. He played hockey, so he was pretty muscled. He kept his natural hair color, a light blond. His hair was what Jane and I liked to call "swooshy" and was always hanging in his eyes, which were the same shade of ice blue as his sisters. He was always flipping his head around, trying to get his bangs out of his line of sight.
At that moment, Jane and Ziggy were standing in the little entryway to my house. Well, Matt's house. It was this little room where you could go straight, down the stairs to the finished basement, or turn left, go up four more steps and be in the kitchen. Not the greatest set-up, but it worked and we were all used to it.
Followed by my arguing friends, I went up the stairs and made a right so I would be leaving the kitchen and going to the space that wasn't the living room, or the dining room. It was just a hardwood floor that took up some space. But rather than go all the way to the living room, I stuck my head into the dining room to see if Matt was in there. He wasn't. Our dining room was more prop than anything else. It had the big table for a bunch of people and the Persian rug and the Italian paintings, but there was no way we would ever eat in there if it wasn't a holiday.
I continued on and the Twins followed me. Ziggy kept yelling something about his hockey practice the night before and how the ref kept giving him a penalty for something or other. Jane, on the other hand, was complaining about band rehearsal last Sunday. I wanted to join her, because I hated band more than she did, but I knew better than to interfere with their arguments by now.
I quickly glanced into our very lived-in living room. Matt wasn't sitting in my favorite maroon leather chair or the matching couch next to the wooden table that was so shiny you could see yourself in it. The tan over-sized chair was empty too. The TV wasn't on, a coffee mug wasn't on the side table and a newspaper wasn't lying on the ottoman. Thus, my brother hadn't been there in a while.
I lead the way up the stairs to the second floor. The landing held the coat closet, but I didn't wear a jacket because it was nice out that day, so I kept going up. The first door when you got up the stairs, and to your left, was my door. The purple sign with a panda and a monkey should have been obvious.
I opened my door and it creaked as I stepped inside. I tossed my book bag on my floor, in the corner. Then I fell onto my bed with a contented sigh. Jane did the same. Ziggy fell into my beanbag chair and got stuck. There was a reason I called it the Butt-Trap. He struggled to get back up before he gave up and relaxed, realizing he wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.
"Isabelle Paxton, are you listening?" Jane yelled.
"Dude, take out the headphones," I suggested.
She blushed a deep shade of pink and took out her headphone, which was blasting some song I didn't recognize. I saw Ziggy do the same thing out of the corner of my eye. I smiled inwardly and turned my thoughts back to Jane.
"Of course I'm listening. Your arguing is truly the highlight of my day."
"Bella, don't try being sarcastic. It just doesn't work for you. Ziggy and I, however, are masters of the art."
Jane gave me one of her million-dollar smiles. Most people, like our teachers, thought she was being sweet and obedient. But to Ziggy, Matt and me...we all knew what it really was. It was actually a smirk that said "kiss my ass."
But unfortunately, Ziggy could pull off that look too and almost as well as his sister, it was pretty frustrating at times.
"Yeah, Bell. Don't bother," Ziggy agreed.
"Don't call me that!" I whined.
I took one of the many pillows from around me and put it over my face, closing my eyes. Jane moved from where she was, in the corner of my daybed that she was always in, and I heard her smack her brother.
"You know she hates it when people get her name wrong!" she hissed.
"It was a joke!" he said back.
Even though I couldn't see her, I could almost fell the static in the air from another one of her looks. She would be glaring at him with such a force pretty much anybody would fall under her spell. Ziggy, however, was the weakest and it took only a second of two before he cracked under the pressure.
"Sorry, Bella," he grumbled. I could hear the terror in his voice.
I took the pillow off my face and grinned at him. "Thank you, Zachary."
He winced when I used his real name, but didn't say anything, knowing it was payback for calling me Bell. Even though my name was Isabelle, I hated being called that by my best friends. I thought it was too formal. When I was a lot younger, maybe four, and my parents were deployed, Matt started calling Bella and it just kind of stuck. A few minutes after that, Matt came and knocked on my door.
"You may enter my sanctuary," I said ominously.
He opened the door and leaned on the jam. He didn't look all that happy. However, the light blue cotton pajama pants with ducks on them didn't scream "scary". His eyes were bloodshot and glazed with sleep. It wasn't until then that I realized we broke one of his biggest rules.
We woke him up while he was sleeping.
My eyes grew totally huge and I whispered, "Sorry! I forgot you had school tonight!"
Matt, even though he was barely twenty-seven, was a teacher at the community college. He taught a history class to the kids that took the night courses. And he had to go to class in a few hours, but we woke him up.
"Please, Bella, go somewhere else or be quiet," Matt pleaded.
There wasn't very much we could do other than throw our bags over our shoulders and leave the house, going to the park that we all loved to hang out at.
The walk was short, only five or ten minutes. Our bags weren't heavy because none of us actually believed in doing out homework at home. We all sat down on our respective swings. I always sat on the green one, Ziggy got the red and Jane had the orange. They were the highest off the ground and we had even written our names on them in Sharpie. But it washed off after it rained the next day.
I sat on my swing, between my friends. They had stopped arguing and were both happy again. I started pumping my legs so I would feel the wind go through my thick hair. However, I really would have preferred not to feel the nausea that came when I looked down from a height over five feet above the ground.
Jane looked over her shoulder, towards the playground that we always used to love. Ziggy was doing the same.
"Wanna go play on the playground?" I asked, knowing what their answers would be.
"Yes!" the Twins almost begged.
"Then what are we still doing here?!"
I jumped off the swing and made a run for it. They looked at each other before doing the same thing simultaneously. I soon fell behind Ziggy because he was so fit from hockey. Jane and I were tied with each other. I ran for the ladder. She tried going up the slide, only to fall back down and have to follow me up the ladder.
"I call the swirly slide!" I yelled.
I ran to the beige slide that was a series of curves to get down. I sat down in it and push off, going maybe three inches. I pushed off again and went even less. I almost growled under my breath, remembering how this was so much easier with I was four. I kept kicking my feet until I was at the bottom, a good minute later. I laughed, despite the sloth-like speed it took to get to the bottom.
I ran back around the playground to go to the stairs to try a different slide. The one I always loved because it was so fast, was currently being used by one of the Twins. I couldn't tell which one though, because I could only see the bottoms of their shoes and they both wore Converse.
Did I mention with the slide being so fast, it was really teeny? It was really easy to get stuck inside and apparently, one of my friends had.
I reached forward and tapped the bottom of a shoe. "Which twin is this?" I asked, loud enough to be heard.
"Ziggy!" came the muffled reply.
How did I know he would be the only one stupid enough to get stuck in a slide? I laughed and climbed down the ladder again. Running around to the other end of the slide, I saw poor Ziggy, stuck almost upside down.
I grabbed onto his hands, which were stuck in a way that I could actually grab onto him, and pulled. He didn't move at all. I put my foot on the end of the slide and tried again. Nothing.
"Jane! Help!" I yelled.
Jane miraculously popped out of the slide opposite the one her twin was stuck in. She paused, looked up the slide, saw Ziggy, and laughed with her hand over her mouth. Only for a second though, because she was soon leaning on both me and the slide for support.
"Okay, I think I'm good," she declared, watching her brother fail around as best he could to get out.
We both grabbed onto on of his hands and yanked him out as hard as we could. After a second of nothingness again, he came sliding out and Jane and me flew backwards. He landed on top of us. I pushed him off and onto the ground. We all laughed our heads off for a good minute and a half before standing and brushing ourselves off.
Then, we all went back to the playground to act like we were five, one more time.
After a while, Jane asked, "Wanna go to 7/11 or something? I want a Slurpee!"
"Yeah!" I yelled, picking up my bag again.
The three of us walked to 7/11. It was a little over a mile away, so not that far. We bought those huge Slurpee's and filled them with Pepsi, mango-apple and this weird berry stuff that was strangely good.
After that, we walked to another park we liked that was on the river. I took out my iPod and Jane took out her splitter so we could all have a headphone. I turned on any music I could find that we would have listened to when we were younger. Like the song That's What Girls Do. We all sang as loud as we could and really out of key. Even Ziggy knew the words, which wasn't that weird because he was always with Jane and me. In mid-dancing-around-like-little-kids-or-idiots, it started down-pouring.
So it wouldn't get ruined, I put the iPod away and we started walking back. We had a mile and a half to go.
Needless to say, we all got totally drenched. My tee shirt was soaked and clinging to me. Jane looked like a drowning hobo, I wouldn't ever tell her that though. And Ziggy had been wearing his hockey jersey, so he looked drenched in sweat. But his hot, swooshy hair was drenched too, making him look a little like a girl with short hair.
When we got back, forty-five minutes later, Matt was awake getting ready for his classes, he saw us and laughed. He toweled his hair off some more; it was still wet from his shower. It was light brown. His eyes seemed happier than before, and their usual bright blue, the polar opposite of the Twins.
"I think you got a little wet there," Matt laughed.
"Gee, ya think?" I sneered.
The three of us headed up the stairs and into my room. I went into my walk-in closet and pulled out two pairs of pajamas for Jane and I. Then I gave Ziggy something of Matt's to wear. And because we were warm and comfy by then, we put a DVD on. With some bowls of hot popcorn that only Ziggy would ever eat, we sat and watched a classic. Harry Potter and the Sorcerers stone.
Before the movie was over, the Twins had to go home. Matt had left quite a while before and I was feeling a little guilty about not doing any of my homework for the next day. So I pulled out my book for history and did my pitifully small amount of homework. It took me less than twenty minutes, thus I got really bored, really fast.
When I didn't really feel like doing my Spanish homework, I opened up the side table between my bed and the wall. I dug around through old candy wrappers, pencils and a bunch miscellaneous crap until I found an old tennis ball. I took it out and laid back on the pile of pillows behind me. I threw it up at the ceiling, until I remembered that it was vaulted and it wouldn't bounce. I blushed even though nobody was there to see me, and threw the ball at the closet door instead.
I passed out not much later, totally forgetting to set my alarm for the morning. In fact, I would have missed school if my cell phone hadn't rung and woken me up.
"Bella! Where are you?! Even I'm at school by now!" Jane yelled.
"Oh, shit!" I hissed, throwing off my blankets and running out of the room. "What time is it?"
"Five after eight."
"Shit," I groaned. "Tell Mr. Shaw I'm not skipping or anything."
I snapped my phone shut and ran into the shower. I took maybe five minutes to wash my hair, and that on its own was a feat. My brown hair was so thick, it took forever to take a shower. Then, I didn't feel like wasting time drying it so I ran back into my room and pulled on jeans and an old white tee shirt. All my sweaters were dirty or I couldn't find one in my immediate line of sight, so I didn't bother.
I ran downstairs and out onto the sidewalk. I jumped on my bike and pedaled like I was being chased by zombies. Trying to ride one-handed and not fall over or run into a large tree, I pulled out my phone again. I texted Jane to let her know I was on my way.
But, my high school was almost three miles away. It was on the Marine base. I lived off-base. And to make matters worse, it started down pouring. Harder than the night before. My shirt and jeans were soaked and clung to me. My Converse were soaked and felt like snot every time they squished against the pedal.
At least my hair had already been wet.
By the time I got to school, my class had been going on for almost forty minutes. I ran inside and to my locker to get rid of my bag that I had hastily thrown on my back just before I left. I pulled my hair back into a dripping ponytail. That's when I realized I had marching band first today. And I didn't have my flute. Or music.
I shuffled down to the band room. Because of the rain, we wouldn't be outside, practicing. We would be inside.
I opened one of the double doors and tip-toed inside. Everyone stopped playing and tuned to looked at me. I had a feeling I must have been quite a sight. Hair dripping down my back. White tee shirt that I just then realized was probably totally translucent. Jeans that were sopping wet and clinging to my legs. Bright blue Converse that looked more like navy. My face that was probably beet red from being freezing cold or the three mile bike ride.
"Hey, ya'll..." I said sheepishly.
I waved a little and slipped into the arch we were standing in, next to Jane.
"Nice entrance." Jane smirked.
"Where have you been Ms. Paxton? Why are you soaking wet? And where is your horn?" Mr. Shaw, our band director asked.
"I, uh..."
"She was talking to her parents. Because of the time difference, it's the only time they could catch up. You understand," Jane covered for me.
We all got the satisfaction of seeing Mr. Shaw's eyes widen and then blink. I blushed, but I didn't think anyone could tell with my face already being so red. I hated it when anyone mentioned how my parents were in the Marines, in Afghanistan. Even at a school where everyone had a family member in the Marines or lived on the base, it was still embarrassing.
"Don't let it happen again, Isabelle."
"Yes, sir," I grumbled.
He went back to teaching the class. Jane pulled me into the back room, where the brass and woodwinds kept their instruments. She pulled out somebody's flute case and put the flute inside together before handing it to me, along with a flip-folder with all our music in it.
"Who's are these?" I asked.
"I don't know. And you owe me. Big," Jane said before heading back to class.
I waited a second before following and trying to play the flute for another hour. Being the worst band geek ever, it was almost harder than trying to wash my hair in less than five minutes.
When the bell finally rang, Jane and I walked out of the band room. Camille, one of my other good friends who was in the band, came up to us. More like behind us. She put on arm around me and one around Jane. However, she moved away when she realized I was still soaked.
Camille was a few inches taller than Jane and I, but still not as tall as Ziggy. Her light brown hair wasn't windblown from band, like it would have been if we were outside. Her brown eyes weren't as bright as usual, probably because we were in band.
"Your parents? Really?" Camille asked skeptically.
I shook my head and kept walking to my locker. I had to grab my huge biology book and binder. On top of that, I put my notebook that I always had with me, just for random crap. Like doodles or notes to pass in class. Then my book I had been reading and my planner.
Camille and I met back up after that because we had biology together. I sat down at my desk and opened my binder to do our warm up. Our teacher, Mrs. Hanks, walked in and we all started to get excited because it was a lab day.
I moved back to my lab table. Ziggy sat next to me and laughed.
"Dude, I think you forgot to change after than rainstorm last night..." he snickered.
"I crashed without setting my alarm and woke up late. I had to ride my bike here in the rain," I complained.
Camille and her partner, Lawrence, sat down opposite us. We all pulled on our goggles, because we were going to be working with chemicals. I looked over at the ones Ziggy and I shared our table with after we had gotten our assignments. They were trying to figure out which beaker had chlorine and which had sulfuric acid. I could understand how they could mistake a green gas with a liquid.
I looked over at my partner and started laughing. He looked bug-eyed with his goggles on. His smile was so huge he looked like a little kid on Christmas morning. I must have looked the same.
"Real sexy, man," I said to him before turning to our experiment.
While we were half way finished with our experiment, I heard Camille and Lawrence bickering over which acid was the one we were supposed to be using. Lawrence asked what time it was, changing the subject. Camille looked at her watch on her left wrist. The same hand that she was holding the beaker full of sulfuric acid in.
It all went downhill from there.
Camille rotated her wrist around to see what time it is. The beaker turned upside down and Lawrence had his head turned to their paper. The acid poured onto his arm, which was bare, unprotected by his tee shirt sleeve. He cried out in pain. Mrs. Hanks ran over and more or less forced his arm under cool water from the sink. After a few minutes, she wrapped a bandage around his arm and sent him to the nurses office. Camille went with him, chanting over and over that she was sorry.
"Well, that's one way to make science interesting..." Ziggy muttered, turning back to our own assignment.
When the bell rang, Ziggy and I walked down to the cafeteria. We dropped all off our books on the end of the table, where nobody sat. Jane met up with us and took her usual seat on my left. Camille came not much longer and sat on my right. Ziggy was still across from me. Charity, yet another one of my friends, sat down next to Ziggy. She was a little taller than Jane and I again, with dark hair and blond highlights. A ton of other people I was friends with came and sat with us too.
After our lunch hour was over, I had to go to Spanish class. I was probably the worst student in that class. I couldn't remember any of the words. I spoke Spanish with a French accent. In fact, if Jane wasn't doing my homework for me, I would have flunked out. I almost did in the year before, my freshman year, when I was taking Spanish one.
I sat down in my desk, in the back corner of the room. I was slouched back in my chair, almost like a guy would be, and set my books on my desktop. My thin, light text book sat in one corner with my red notebook nest to it. My planner that was totally falling apart even though it was only the second week of school sat on top of that. My head lolled back as I waited for my worst class to begin just so I could be more of an epic fail than I already was.
After an hour and a half of speaking Spanish in the wrong accent, not rolling my R's, and sitting in damp clothes, the bell rang and echoed through the school. I had my books in hand and was out the door by the time the bell had stopped ringing. Only another hour and a half left of school until I could go home and relax.
I danced my way to my locker, listening to the music in my head. (I'm not crazy, I swear! Well, maybe a little bit, but I just had a song stuck in my head!) The Twins, bickering as usual, sauntered up to me while I was literally inside of my locker, where nobody should dare go without fear of being eaten alive. Well, Ziggy sauntered. Jane kind of slinks around like she's off to commit a crime, but with a slight strut.
As I was pulling myself away from my lockers mouth because it started to eat me, my elbow scrapped up against the little hook that actually locked the door. It cut a deep gash down my arm and it started to bleed profusely. Luckily, I was prepared. Being a klutz, I had to be. I pulled a bandage from one of the many pockets in my black hole of a book bag and put it over the gash.
"It's a really good thing you don't play hockey, Bells. You would have killed yourself by now," Ziggy mumbled. He wasn't really teasing me, but he wasn't dead serious either.
"I know…" I sighed.
I pulled out all of my homework, for my study hall. I had math that was due the next day. History that I forgot to do the night before and that was due, a few chapters of a book to be read for English. Plus my science review sheet that went with our book work that would be due the day after next. Not to mention the Spanish I had to do even if I would do everything wrong.
The Twins laughed at me as I slammed my locker with a kick of my foot. I had four text books in my arms, three binders, a notebook that I didn't keep in a binder, my English reading book, my calculator for math and my new band music that we would be tested on the week after that.
"It's not funny!" I whined.
I started walk down the hall to Mr. Brink's class. Actually, it was more like a waddle because of the thirty pounds of crap I held in my arms. I could hear my friends laughing at me and not trying to hide the fact that they were, all the way into the room. I dropped my pile of stuff on my desk and flopped down in my seat. Everyone filed into the room as soon as the bell rang.
"God, Isabelle, you're in this class?" a voice came from next to me.
I looked up from where I was slouched and saw a face I never thought I would see again. It was a guy I always hated and always hated me. We kind of stopped the constant glares and fighting after our previous year of high school. His name was David and he was just a few months older than me.
"Ever since the school year started," I said.
He smirked like the asshole he was. "I never noticed you."
"Okay, I know I'm kind of invisible, but really?" I was talking more to myself than to him.
"You're not invisible. You're just not seen by most people."
He went across the room to his seat and that was the end of our miniature conversation. And all I could think was, What the hell is that supposed to mean?
As soon as the class ended, I had all of my homework done. I piled all my stuff into my arms around and ran to my carnivore of a locker. My white book bag that was probably big enough to hide a body in went onto my back and I strunked out of the school. (Strunk: a combination of strut and sneak.)
I met Jane down in the band room, even though I didn't have my flute to pick up. She was standing, waiting for me with her tan messenger bag over her shoulder. She had her flute and music in the bag already, but wasn't paying attention to me or anything else. She was staring to the other end of the back room, at the hottest guy in the school. He was a year older than us, and only a few inches taller. He had swooshy hair that was a little lighter than mine, with the most gorgeous eyes you have ever seen.
I grabbed onto the collar of her shirt and yanked her out of the room, down the dark and creepy hallway and out the doors, where Ziggy was waiting for us. His black book bag was slung over one shoulder. He saw his sister's vacant stare at nothing and knew immediately what she was a victim of.
"Parker-Claxton-itis?" he asked, making himself sound like a doctor that was making a diagnosis.
"Isn't it always?" I laughed.
"He's gorgeous!" Jane gushed, breaking out of her trance.
We laughed at her and then the three of us all headed to the road just off the high school, so we could wait for our bus that would take us away from the Marine bass and to our houses.
See, the Twins were in the same predicament I was. They lived off the base, and went to school on-base. Their dad was in the Army, over in Afghanistan with my parents. We never really talked about anything like that though. We liked to think we were average teens. We were far from it though.
We got on the bus and went to our usual seats in the back. Jane and I sat in the very last seat on the right. I took the window, because Jane had to get off first. Ziggy sat in front of us but on his knees so he could face the wrong way and see us.
Just off the base, the Twins got off so they could go home. They normally came to Matt's with me, but they couldn't that day because they had a family thing to do with. So I was alone, sitting on the bus. But only for a few minutes because my stop was right after theirs.
I got off the bus and as soon as it drove away, I realized something: I rode my bike to school. And it was still there.
"Damn…" I groaned.
I went up to my room and changed into clothes that weren't damp. I put on my gray shorts with a gray tee shirt. My knee shocks that were made for a person taller than I was so they went to my thighs and were covered in music notes covered my pale legs. I tip-toed into my bathroom so I wouldn't wake up my brother and looked in the mirror to re-do my hair.
And oh my god, I looked awful. I had seen several corpses with better color than I was at that moment. My skin was not only pasty and so pale it was white and you could see my veins. Purplish bruises were underneath my eyes. My skin was pulled tightly over my cheekbones, even though it wasn't usually like that. The skin on my hands was jaundiced with purple-blue marbling. My arms were just as pasty as when I would wear black. Except I was wearing gray so that must have been really bad.
I shuddered and looked away from the zombie with my face in the mirror. Without doing anything that could make me look less dead, I went down the stairs and sat on the big oversized chair in the living room. I flipped on the TV and watched some movie I found on HBO.
After the movie I was watching was over, I went into the kitchen to get a snack. A simple PB and J sandwich later, and I was sitting back in the living room, waiting for something to happen. I didn't have homework, nothing was on TV, my friends weren't there to keep my company and Matt was asleep.
All and all, my evening wasn't very lively. I watched movies, drank hot chocolate, and checked my email. Matt got up around six to get ready for work. While he was in the shower, I made a pizza for dinner. I still wasn't all that hungry, but he was.
"Thanks, Bella," Matt said.
"No prob. I didn't have anything better to do."
"No homework?"
"Study hall."
"Uh-huh."
He went up to his room to get ready for school. He left not much later, leaving me alone. I had zero things to do, so I went up to my room and read some book until it was around ten. And making sure to set my alarm this time, I went to bed, effectively ending one of the most normal days of my life.
The next morning, my alarm went off and I woke up on time. I groggily stumbled into the shower. Like I did at least once a week, I got a huge amount of shampoo in my eyes, along with conditioner. My eyes would be all red, but at least I wouldn't still be soaked when I got to school again.
That morning, I had time to actually dry my hair and do something with it. I had gym that day, so I just put it into a ponytail. Before going into my room and pulling on clothes—rather than my pajamas I had put back on after the shower—I got a Pop-Tart from the kitchen for breakfast. Then, I went back upstairs to get dressed and get my bag before catching the bus to school.
Like always, I wore a black tee shirt and dark jeans. I picked up my bag that I hadn't touched since school the day before and put in the headphones on my iPod. Cranking up the volume on my favorite mix CD, I started walking to the bus stop.
I got on the bus and went to my usual place. At the next stop, the Twins got on and we started talking about some random stuff we wouldn't remember by the time we got to school. And we didn't.
We all went our separate ways to get to our lockers and then our first classes. My locker tried to eat me again, but I fought back and managed to escape with my geometry book, binder and calculator. I made sure my phone was on silent before I went into Mr. Capps's room and slumped into my desk.
Right after the bell rang, Jane slid into the room while our teacher had his back turned to the white board. She smirked at us all as she sat down, not tardy because of her stealth. The only time she had grace, was if she was trying to skate into class late or something. She was the true master getting to class late.
For the next hour and a half, we all stared at the equations on the board and nearly died from boredom. Jane and I kept looked at each other, mouthing short sentences about how awful it was to have math at eight in the morning. It was cruel and unusual punishment.
As soon as the bell rang, we all left the room like a shot. My locker was just around the corner and Jane's was a little farther down. I swapped out my books for my English class as fast as I could to avoid winding up eaten. Then, I headed off to my next class that was so boring I'd fallen asleep in it before. But it was better than math and I enjoyed it.
Right after that, I went back to lunch. All my friends and I sat down and ate the scary cafeteria food that we knew was more dangerous than my locker when it was hungry. Well, everything was scary but the French fries. Those were truly amazing. And the pop machines. Those were pretty trustworthy and awesome.
When lunch was finished, I headed to history. Where my teacher was so enthusiastic he yelled everything he said. Then I had gym. Thank god, it was a free day. I sat with a few friends and talked until the bell rang so I could run out the doors, steal my bag from my locker (as long as it hadn't gotten eaten) and ride my bike home so I didn't leave it at school…again…
The Twins hung out at my house for most of the night, until their mom called them home again. I sulked a little after they left because I was bored from not being creative enough to think of something to entertain myself. It was too late to walk to the park or go anywhere. So I turned on my laptop and went to some quiz website to take random quizzes.
I crashed a little earlier than usual, because the band was marching in the Friday night game. It was only the second game of the year and I was kind of looking forward to it.
God, I was the worst band geek ever. I hated playing the flute, I couldn't play very well. I was always last chair. I rarely had all my marching music memorized. I complained every time was had a Sunday rehearsal at school. I counted the minutes until anything band was over. But on the other hand, I got pumped up form games, danced around in the bleachers and cheered for the football players. I was spirited in the stands, but as soon as we got on the field all I could think was how much I hated it. During dances for the routines, I just went through the motions, hating that I looked like an idiot. Worst band geek ever.