But You Don’t Like Me

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It’s my senior year and you'd think I'd be taking it easy with my friends and going to parties. You know, living it up. YOLO and all that. Trust me that was the plan. I swear this year, I was going to call a truce and stop my academic feud with Jace Gladstone. Student body president with the body of a god and the attitude of a cretin. On the first day back, he made an announcement that will change the lives four students. My idea for a laid back senior year is thrown out the window. I’m going to do everything I can to be one of the four. We have drama, sabotage, betrayal, a shocking truce, and one piece of news that will turn my world upside down.

Humor / Romance
Tully Halleway
5.0 2 reviews
Age Rating:


Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!

I’m sprinting through the quad, clutching my bag with both my hands with a piece of toast hanging out of my mouth. It’s flapping around hitting my chin and my nose as I’m heavily breathing through this warm fall season. I can feel the toast crumbs sticking to my lip gloss. My bag keeps hitting my back every time I step and it’s throwing my equilibrium off.

I cannot believe I forgot to set my alarm clock. Correction, I set my alarm clock. However, I seem to have set it for 6:00PM instead of AM.

I can’t be the only one that does this. Right? Right.

I woke up at 7:30 that means I have 30 minutes to get ready and run to school. First day at the academy always starts with an entrance ceremony. At times like this I am thankful we’re required to wear uniforms so I don’t have to think twice on outfit choices.

Today, I wore our classic pleated maroon skirt, paired with our short sleeve button up with the peter-pan collar. Our academy crest stitched on the breast pocket. I attached my clip-on black tie. Who has time to tie a damn tie every morning? I ditched the stockings and opted for white mid-calf socks seeing as how we’ve had an unseasonably warm fall. I top off my glorious outfit with my white converses. My long black hair is a lost cause, I just left that down and ran my hair through my long locks. No doubt the director will have a heart attack seeing one of his students not so prim and proper.

I put on some tinted moisturizer, eyeliner, and lip gloss. Mom always said “less is more.” I blow a kiss at her picture on my vanity. I race down the hall and practically roll down the stairs. I round the banister and see my dad standing by the kitchen island He’s scrolling through his phone, probably reading the news or watching dog videos. I see him smile, definitely dog videos.

“Dad why didn’t you wake me up?” I yell as I run past him to gather my things into my backpack. I usually glance over the things we studied the year before to prepare myself going into the new year. I know, nerd-alert.

“Honey I tried, but you sleep like the dead, and you started throwing punches,” dad whines with a pout. He’s holding his arm in mock hurt, he hates it when I get unconsciously violent.

I growl in frustration and he puts his phone down, gathers me in his arm and gives me one of his fierce dad hugs. You know the ones I’m talking about? The ones that make all your troubles go away or seem less significant. That’s what happened, and he knows it.

“Calm child. Gather your thoughts. How much time do you have left?” he says thoughtfully. His greatest trait is patience, for it takes tons of it to calm my temper.

I blow out a breath. “I have twenty minutes.” He’s looking at me expectantly, he wants me to think through my solutions. “I can cut through Mrs. Johansson’s and Mr. Anderson’s yards and through the quad at the academy. I’ve been getting faster on my mile time. I can make it to the entrance ceremony before they close the doors.” It’s cutting it close but I can’t ask my dad for a ride. He’ll be late to work since his job is in the city, in the opposite direction the academy is.

“Well then, you better get going!” Dad says as he’s literally shoving a piece of toast in my mouth.

“Fanks ad! luff you!” He looks at me thoughtfully and I high tail it out our back patio. I throw my bag over the fence and climb the fence and land in Mrs. Johansson’s yard.

Damn why is her backyard so big?

She could fit an Olympic size swimming pool back here.

Wait now is not the time! I book it across her garden boxes. Mrs. Johansson is a sweet 65 year old lady who lives by herself who’s seen me cut across her yard on several occasions. I’ll have to make her cookies again.

I round Mr. Anderson’s yard and onto the street. I’m within a block of the academy and sweat is pooling around my face and dripping down my neck. I know I look like a mess but I cannot miss the entrance ceremony. Never in my three years at the academy have I missed the entrance ceremony. It’s my chance to see everyone after the long break before classes and the drama sets in. Also it’s pretty fun to see how much my classmates have changed over the summer. Not me though, I swear my mixed heritage has seemed to stop me from aging past 14 even though I’m 19. More than once during the first week of school, one of the teachers will ask me if I’m in the right place. They’ll tell me that the K-9 school is the building opposite of the quad.

Huh, maybe I should wear more makeup. Maybe Mr. Ticker will finally realize I go here.

Our academy is setup such that our freshman year of college is spent at the academy. The super seniors, as they call us, are all in concurrent enrollment classes that transfer to college credits. This was done in hopes that it gives the majority of us some fighting ground when enrolling for actual college.

I sprint through the quad and into the building. I’m finishing my toast and wiping the crumbs away as I’m rounding the corner to the auditorium. Before I could stop myself, I see the doors open rather forcefully. The doors smack my forehead and knock me flat on my ass.
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