The Story of Adeline May

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Hum A Little Tun

I jerk awake as the bell rings for lunch to begin. The sound of shuffling feet feels my ears as the teacher reminds us of an assignment. I close my English textbook and put it under the desk. I grab my backpack to stand. I smile softy at the teacher and leave the room.

Stepping into the hallway, I cringe. A small part of me misses the orderly fashion of our small magnet school in Texas. Everything there knew their place. Yes, there was crowded hallways, skipping and things of that nature—I agree. We had a system; therefore, it looked cleaner and more organized.

I follow behind a group of kids closely, until we reach the cafeteria. I break away from them and move toward the growing lunch-line. I’m stuck behind two loudmouth talking girls and I sigh. Something about Kahalani sleeping with Mr. Kinsely? I roll my eyes and scan the large room.

Elijan is following his new group of friends to their table when our eyes meet. Surprisingly, he sends me a little wave and I nod in response. Breaking our sibling stare off, I continue scanning.

I see Evan and his bimbo friend. Bimbo is holding onto Evan’s arm for dear life while he is scrolling through his phone. Just as she’s about to look up, I look away. Finally, I see Kristian and his group of friends.

The line moves up slightly and I follow. I grab a random tray, looking down at it with little interest. I smile in thanks to the lunch lady. Ew, she is missing one of her front tooth. Okay, moving on. My eyes move back to Kristian’s table to find he’s already looking at me.

You know, my favorite thing about a person are their eyes. Whether they are bright blue or a dirty brown, they are my favorite. Maybe because I can see a lot of everything a person just by looking into their eyes. Or maybe because I can see a lot of nothing in a person, just by looking into their eyes. The lady I just gave my lunch money to has gold eyes. The bright color looks so dark, despite my smile. I wonder what happened to her for the light in her eyes to dim.

As I’m leaving the cafeteria, a group of kids push past me. My tray tilts to the ground. Before it falls, I grab an apple—the only decent thing on the tray. It’s just another thing I miss about home: our lunches weren’t this chaotic. Ugh.

My friends and I used to laugh at the kids who ate somewhere other than the cafeteria or the parking lot. It was unreal for someone to do that. You were automatically seen as an outsider. They don’t know this but some days I’d hide out in the auditorium, just to get a little time to myself.

Make it make sense, Trish would’ve said. Trish was my best friend and if I wasn’t so damn weird, me and Trish would’ve dated. Yeah, it’s true. It’s would’ve happened like this: I would be sitting in the back of a library, maybe doing my homework or maybe not and Trish will show up late for study date and she’ll apologize profoundly, and I’ll say its fine and she’ll tell me she has the perfect book to finish our project and she’ll lead me toward those last couple of aisles and she’ll turn around abruptly and we’ll bump into each other and then she’ll kiss me.

See, I had it all planed out.

And then mom had to ruin everything and die.

I find the auditorium to the left of me. I push the door open and peek my head inside. Thank god; it’s empty. I move deeper in. I move down the aisle and slide into a seat and listen.

Silence.

I used to love the silence. No, really. I did. When there was something building inside of me, and the pressure was getting to be too much, and I felt hot all over Silence became the only thing that was real to me. The only thing I could rely on when nothing else was around. It was one of my closest friends.

Change the subject, you depressed douchbag.

Alrighty then.

I look at the apple in my hands. Okay, Bob the Apple. I’m going to eat you. I take a bite of the apple, listening to the sound of my chewing. As I’m taking another bite out of Bob, my phone pings. I roll my eyes and fish it out of my pocket. A text message from Mandy reads, your dad says don’t forget about that f in your music class.

I roll my eyes and type out my response. okay, thanks for the reminder.

Now, look Bob. Since you’re the only one here, you have to decide whether I sing in class or flunk the class. Blink once for yes, twice for no. I stare at the moist apple in my hands, willing it to give me a sign.

Ugh. Okay, Bob, I’ll take your silence as a yes.



okay, so, here’s another chapter… don’t kill me for being sorta-kinda-not-really late okay? bob doesn’t like for you to be upset.

~xoxo, yourcityrose

maya cyns

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