Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I woke up to the worst sound known to mankind. My alarm clock. I don't get it. Why invent something that ruins the best part of someone's day? It doesn't make any sense, really. Sleep is vital.
I get out of bed anyway, even though it pains me to do so. Leaving my one true love, I mean. How anyone could stand the thought of leaving their bed, I don't know.
I shut off my stupid alarm (Waking people up like that? Not cool.), and make my way to the shower.
Ten minutes later, I head to my closet and get dressed. I'm now wearing a black Adidas crop top and faded ripped skinny jeans. I put my still damp hair into a braid and go downstairs, walking through the empty house.
I look at the time, and I realize I'm running late. I grab a breakfast bar and a coffee and run to the bus stop after putting on my gym shoes and grabbing my backpack.
I get to the bus stop just in time, as the bus pulls up to the stop sign. I get on the bus and make my way to the back, sighing. Bus rides were the worst. While most of the people in my grade were in their cars driving to school right now, I was stuck on the bus with a bunch of grade schoolers, who wouldn't shut up.
Now, you may think this is funny, but try being in my position. Especially if you find it incredibly hard to trust people, it's difficult. I'm trusting my bus driver, right now, to not crash this bus and get me to school on time. I wouldn't have to do this if my stupid car wasn't in the repair shop . . .
We finally get to my school, and I hop off the bus quickly, thanking the driver as I walk past her.
I walk to the big Weeping Willow, where I knew my friends would be. These friends were the people I was talking about. They're the few people I know I can actually trust.
When I finally get there, my best friend, Jessie, runs up to me.
"What took you so long, Graycee? And where's your car?" she asks me.
"It's in the shop, remember? It's not my fault I had to take the bus, Jess," I replied.
"Oh yeah. Sorry about that," she says with a nervous chuckle.
"It's fine. I probably shouldn't've let you use my car in the first place."
"Yeah, you're probably right. But you know, it's not my fault that squirrel wasn't watching where it was going . . ." she argues on her behalf.
The bell rings then, stopping me from replying. I groaned. If you hadn't noticed already, I'm not a morning person.
"See you later, alligator," I said, using the same childish saying I've used with Jessie since the first grade.
"After a while, crocodile," she said, grinning.
I made my way to my first class, which just happened to be the worst class of all time: Math. Even though I was good at it, I absolutely fricken chicken despised it.
But then again, who doesn't?
A few classes and an eternity later, it was finally lunch time. Jessie wasn't in my lunch hour, but I had two of my other friends in there with me.
Matthew and Lucas sat at the outdoor lunch table we chose at the beginning of the year, underneath the Willow.
"Hey, Matt. Hey, Luke," I said, greeting them.
"Hey, Gray," they said, simultaneously.
I sit down with my lunch and start eating, making conversation with my two friends as I do so. We were on the topic of hippies when Matt looked up in alarm.
"Matt?" I asked, confused as to why he stopped talking.
Lucas looked up too, noticing Matt's silence, which wasn't a normal thing. As Luke's gaze flicked up, he gasped.
"Gray, you might want to-"
He was cut off when I gasped as something wet started dripping onto my face. Keep in mind that we were outside and it wasn't raining.
I turned around, still in my seat, and watched as someone finished pouring their Gatorade all over my head.
Great. It couldn't have been water, could it? No. It just had to be Gatorade. God, that's gonna be so hard to get out of my hair. Let alone, my clothes.
I didn't even have to look up to know who it was.
"Gee, thanks, Zach. I really appreciate the drink, but I prefer lemonade, you know," I said before looking up.
"Well, you know, I wasn't exactly thinking about your preferred taste in drinks when I decided to come give you one. I guess it doesn't really matter now, does it, seeing as how it's all over you," he said, smirking.
I've come to expect this treatment. Not just from Zach, no. From half of the sophomore class. Really, I'm used to it. The thing, that they don't seem to understand, is that I don't really give a crap.
The first time this happened to me, I was devastated. I didn't have any friends yet to warn me. But now I'm used to it, and I carry a spare change of clothes in my locker, just for this occasion.
But I was fed up with it.
I don't deserve this. No one does. Not from him, and not from anyone else.
I chuckled. "You're right, Zach. In doesn't matter."
He looked up, shocked. Not that I had spoken up. Oh, no. He was used to that. But that I agreed with him. He looked at me, suspicious.
"So maybe I should return the favor," I told him.
He glanced at me again, confusion flickering across his face.
I took advantage of his confusion, grabbed my lemonade, and poured it over his head.
"See, Zach? Isn't lemonade so much better?" I asked in a sickeningly sweet voice before walking away to change my clothes, hearing whispers as I walked by.
They were half as shocked as I was, and that's saying something. I had never stood up for myself, and no one had ever stood up to Zach.
I headed to my locker, and went into the girls' restroom, changing into dark blue skinny jeans and a white Mickey Mouse shirt, tying a red sweatshirt around my waist. I bent over and rinsed my hair out on the bathroom sink before tying it up in a messy bun.
Even though I had stood up to Zach today, not much would change. He wasn't the only one who bullied me and my group of friends. All that would change, hopefully, is that I wouldn't have drinks poured over my head every lunch hour.
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Author's Note
Again, I'm incredibly sorry I leave off at such terrible places. I'm not one for endings. It's difficult.
Anyway, I'm not going to waste anymore of your time than I have already. Sorry. Like I said before, I'm a rambler.
See you next time, I hope