As if last night hadn't shriveled me enough with its grim efforts, the morning truly was out to drench. It is raining, I have a classes to go to, and the scholarship student dormitories — read poor students — were outside the campus.
I sigh as I curl up in my bed, unwilling as always, to accept the dawn of a new day and be productive about it. The best part about being a guy was that you didn't have to wake up an hour ago to dress up. I can just wake up ten minutes before the bell and still make it, all the while my dormmates wreck a havoc around the place.
"I didn't unplug the hair dryer because I thought that you would use it!"
"Babe, I was showering! Do you know the units it cost us?? And I could die of an electric shock! Do you ever use your head?!"
"Hey! I did that out of genuine goodness of heart! And I'm sorry, but if you don't appreciate it then don't make a fuss about it as well! Makes your ungrateful show."
Someone snorts.
"If you invested just as much common sense in life as you use to come up with these," yellow bed person sighs as I pull the pillow over my head to catch some more sleep, yet still keep an ear out for potential tea. "I'm taking the raincoat," a few seconds later, the smashes door closes.
"Good! Because I'm taking the umbrella!"
There's a gentle click of the door.
Peace at last!
Big, harsh, droplets beat the glass of our dorm window, in efforts to break in and mark territory. Now in silence, they announce their presence in a repetitive fashion, as if calling me out on my laziness, and I cannot go back to sleep anymore. So, I wake up with a bird's nest on top of my head and a heavy burden on my chest.
I'll never get used to having breasts.
My immediate sight is greeted by fake vines and so much green. I stretch out in my bed and pick up my phone to catch up with the world and waste some time. Winona, the girl in whom I live on, has all of her schedule marked in her phone calendar and set up as Task Reminders.
She lived a very organised life.
Just then, I lean over the hardwood edge of the bedframe to look at her workspace underneath. It consists of a pale white tabletop with a dark green wheelie chair, some succulents, a laptop (I did not expect that), a few books and pens laying around. Very generic, very pintrest, and no signs of personality clues, whatsoever.
"Then again, it'd be weird for a minor side character to have personality and interests," I shrug and sit back up. Blood rushes away from my brain and I cough out loud.
Blaire and yellow-bed-person too have an insanely similar layout, just that their chairs and books are a different colour palette than mine. Was this book being made into a webcomic or something? Why is everything so color coded?
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The alarm goes off. It reads: Moonbucks barista [ M-W-F] 7:30 A.M.
Ah, this body used to work in a knock off Starbucks? I snort, suddenly giddy with excitement as I jump off the bed and run to take a shower. I used to work at Starbucks as well, an afternoon shift during highschool.
Since our family had four kids, the oldest who got all privileges first, the second who was the most good looking, me who was made in hopes of a girl, and my little sister most beloved by all.
My older brother got to distribute the pocket money and he would keep a major chunk of it for himself, the remaining he'd divide in three equal parts. My second brother did not mind the injustice, because all he had to do was smile and girls would be lining up at our doorstep with delivery boxes. My little sister was, well, a girl, so she got extra expenses from father — who kept it a secret from mother — and mother — who kept it a secret from father. She'd usually be pooling in money, and during the last ten days of a month, she'd treat us.
Which leaves me, floundering to make ends meet. I wouldn't say I had a miserable time being their sibling, no, because all I ever had to do was ask.
But asking is though. So, I did a job instead. 'Don't be a bother and don't be bothered,' is the principal I live by.
I take off the towel wrapping my hair and there's still remains of colorful glitter on it. I sigh as I put on my crisp uniform, washed and ironed by the curtsey of Blaire. Rain pours down the window like a dejected lover's last farewell, coming off strong yet slipping away swift.
Blaire took the umbrella.
Yellow bed person took the raincoat.
Which leaves me with...I look around to find a pair of black rain boots within sight. "NOTHING! I CANNOT BELIEVE THOSE GIRLS!" I scowl and open our shoe cabinet. They both have their school shoes placed beside eachother's, polished a shining black and in pristine condition.
I take a shoe from each pair and wear it. Yellow bed person's is a bit lose on my foot and Blair's a bit tight. "Doesn't matter now. They should have left me with a better option," I scowl and leave the dormroom.
Poetic justice or whatnot.
The only way to escape rain is to escape. I type Moonbucks in Winona's GPS and it shows up in her recently searched locations. Excellent. A mad dash out the front door and a swift right later, I stand drenched underneath the bus stand.
Rain hits the isolated sidewalk, chattering amongst itself, after confining humans within walls.
My phone tings and it is a notice from the school. It reads:
Mathematics and P.Ed weekly evaluations today!!
"Fuck this," I sigh as a cold shiver numbs my spine. "I'll skip school. Heck, I'll leave school. I'll run away from this place. But to do so, I need to get money. This woman's social security number, passwords, family ties, everything. It would probably take me a week but I'll hold out."
I nod with determination, curling my arms around myself to keep me warm in the chill. "Let's just go to work. Let us earnestly work today and rob this woman dry later," I nod to myself, looking left and right to see when the bus would arrive.
Though not the bus, but a boy stares at me a cigarette hanging between his lips and brows pushed together in a concerned frown. Where did he come from?
"If I were to rob someone, I wouldn't wear my school logo to their home," he pointed out, gesturing his chin at my navy blazer, proudly exhibiting my roots for all to know.
I laugh, awkwardly, and a place a concious hand on the monogram. "I'm not going to rob anyone!" I scoff, fidgeting with my uncombed hair, "I meant me. I'll rob myself from all the hardwork and give myself a good time. Scout's honour!" I hold up three fingers in promise.
He rolls his eyes and looks away.
I stand there, awkwardly swinging on my heels and toes. Did he have to strike up a conversation and then ghost me? Was this conversation over? Was I supposed to say something else? What am I supposed to do?
He looks too nonchalant to report schoolgirls. Right?
I turn to face him again, he's scrolling through his phone, and curl a strand of hair behind my ear. I cough to gain his attention, fluttering my eyes in the best impression of coy womanhood. "I'm just a student, you see," I gave my shoulder a little shaks, "A perfectly, normal and simple school girl who goes to school and studies. I have a clean record," I hope, "I am on top of my class! So you don't have to be worried about me or report me, okay?"
CLICK!
Goes his camera lense in my face.
"This bus does not go to Trinity Silverstein," he casually points out, "And now I have your alibi moments before the crime."
I gape at his unflinching dead expression. Fuck you dude. Why does a random stranger in a made up world have so much personality? Maybe he was a minor character like yellow bed person.
"Well then I must inform you that you are infringing upon my portrait rights by Article 21, subsection A, my personality rights, by Article 23, subsection E, and gaslighting me into thinking that I am going to commit something that I am certainly not, hence encroaching upon my mental peace and affecting my well being. That would be Section 165 of the UPC, henceforth resulting in a fine, fine and did I mention, a fine?"
I rant out of nowhere.
"Ah, I see, thieves are thorough with the law these days," he presses his cheeks up in a diplomatic smile and shows me a horrendous image of mine, being deleted.
I flip him off as the bus arrives. I rush inside, escaping the rain pelting my back, and take a seat in the cornermost last row of the empty bus. I look around to flip him off one last time, but he's gone, poof, disappeared into thin air, as if he'd had been a part of my imagination all along.