My body jerked as a shrill alarm woke me the next morning.
“Good morning, sweet cheeks! Time to go to school!” my mom practically screamed/ sang as she danced into my room.
“Ugh,” I grumbled. Her cheeriness made me want to gag; no sane human being should be happy at five-twenty in the morning. If they are, like her… psychiatric help should be needed.
“Don’t growl at me, young lady.” She scolded before she slapped me on the butt, making me jump slightly.
“I didn’t!” I cried before rolling to my side and scowling at her.
“Get up or I’m sending your brother in here to wake you up, kay? Kay.” She called as she pranced out of my room, leaving my lights on to blind me to death.
“If he steps one foot in my room, he’ll get in so much trouble.” I told Shine before I rolled out of bed. Shine gave cat yawn and fell back to sleep, the little dirt bag.
Snorting, I turned and seen the golden ring on my chair. How could I have forgotten that little tidbit from last night? An old creeper that snuck into my room and yet, I still forgot about it.
Staring at it like I could forcibly melt it with my gaze, I ran around my bedroom, trying to find my new boots. “I’ll just deal with you later,” I said, pointing at the ring as I stomped into a worn pair of jeans. Locating my boots hiding under my desk, I gingerly pushed the chair out of the way and picked up my boots, as if the ring were a live snake that could strike at any given second.
Grabbing my book bag and my keys, I jogged down the stairs and practically slid into my kitchen, making my mom stare at me with a disbelieved face.
“I can’t believe you’re a senior.” She grumbled as she flipped her omelet in the skillet.
“Why don’t ya? Because I’m getting so old?” I laughed as I picked up an orange.
“Because you act like you’re ten, that’s why.” She said as she pointed her spatula at me.
Alan started singing ‘battlefield’ by Jordan Sparks and came dancing from the laundry room, his jeans tied around his waist as he skipped up the stairs.
“And he’s almost old enough to drive, you know.” I said, popping an orange slice in my mouth nonchalantly.
“Shut up,” she scolded as she left the kitchen, her hand gripping the beloved coffee she absolutely needs.
“Alan! Hurry up, I’m out in the car.” I hollered as I walked out to my car.
Silverton High was the epitome of a hell-hole. The teachers didn’t care about anything except that measly pay check and the cigarette they sneak during the lunch period. Well, most of the teachers are like that. There are but two that actually care about the students and I happen to have both of them.
Ms. McSurely, my English 12 teacher, is in her first year of teaching, a rookie in the act of getting us teenagers to actually doing something the last year of school. She was so bubbly and energetic and, to be honest, she reminds me of a hyperactive puppy dog. Her enthusiasm for English, literature and poetry amazed me to no end; personally, I love to read but anything else? No way, José!
Mrs. Watters, my homeroom teacher and basically the person who’s responsible of me, is the teacher that acts like she hates her job and her students (especially me) but, I believe, she loves both. She is like our agriculture teacher, but she basically teaches the anatomy and procedure to taking care of farm animals.
So, when I walked into the school, the teachers all stood outside their doors, looking bored out of their minds and unhappy. Except Ms. McSurely, of course; she was happily sipping her mug of coffee and smiling at all the kids who looked as unhappy as their teachers.
“Morning, Ms. McSurely.” I said politely, smiling at her.
She grinned at me, her brown eyes lighting up. “Good morning, Shyanne! How was your weekend?”
“Fine, it was a little too fast for me.”
“Isn’t it always?” she asked as I walked to my locker.
She had already caught the attention of a student already, so I held back my comment.
A sharp sting on my ass had me jumping and saying, “what the hell?” loudly, making my Pre-Calculus teacher glare at me with a nasty look.
Nick, my gay best friend, laughed with a snort. “Ha-ha, got you in trouble.”
“You’re a douchebag, Nick.” I glared at him before I started getting my supplies out for homeroom.
“Awe, you love me and you know it!” he called as he sashayed his way down to his locker.
“Whatever.” I grumbled and slammed my locker door shut.
Mrs. Watters had her head down on her desk, her mug of coffee looking like it was empty at least two hours ago.
“Morning, Mrs. Watters.” I said as cheerily as I could muster, just to get a rise out of her.
Her head shot up, making me laugh. “Get out of my classroom, Shyanne. It’s too early; go to the bathroom or something.”
Laying my stuff on my desk, I promptly sat in my chair and plugged my headphones in my ears, cranking the music up on my iPod.
She gave me her signature glare before she started typing furiously on her key board.
Shaniqua hurried in and gave me a smile. “Hey, Shybie.”
“Shybie?” I asked curiously as I started on my English project. “Where the heck did that come from?”
“My utterly gorgeous brain, of course.” She snapped with a sweet smile.
“Gorgeous is the last thing I’d call your mind; dirty is the best word.” Jessica, another one of my best friends, laughed as she walked in, her hands wrapped around a mountain dew as if it were her life line (which it probably was).
“Touché,” Shan said as she wagged her finger at Jess.
Jess took the seat next to me and slyly put her boots on the seat beside her, resting her back on my shoulder. “Ah, finally,”
“It’s only eight twenty; you can’t be saying that yet.” Her red hair practically itched my nose as I snorted. “Get off me, ya lazy.”
“Jessica! Get your feet off of my chair before I hurt you!” Mrs. Watters barked.
“Sorry, Mrs. Watters,” Jessica let her feet slip from the chair and land on the concrete floor with a loud thump. “She’s extra bitchy today, ain’t she?”
Shan laughed and I shook my head. “She does look a little grumpy.”
The bell rang, and we sat back to watch our classmates scurry into the room as quick as possible, trying to get past Mrs. Watters without her noticing.
“Why are all you late!?” She demanded as she scowled at the girls.
“Well, I got here late and then my boyfriend-” Sandy, one of the few I really would have liked to hurt, started before Mrs. Watters interrupted her.
“Your boyfriend!? That’s why you’re late to my class!?” she practically yelled, which is actually a rare thing.
“Of course; she has at least ten. See, there’s Brandin and Kyle and then there’s Sam… the list goes on. Who was it this time?” Jessica asked with a snicker.
Sandy’s pale face went bloody red and her rat face scrunched up. “Shut up, bitch.”
Mrs. Watters pointed at the door. “Sandy, Jessica, get out of my classroom and go to the main office. Sandy goes first, that way you won’t try to hurt Jess.”
“Her hurt me?” Jess said with disbelief. “Mrs. Watters-”
Mrs. Watters held her hand up. “I don’t care, Jessica. Sandy, get out and see the principle.”
Sandy shot Jess a look that could’ve burned ice before stomping angrily out of the room and slamming the door behind her like a fifth grader.
“Well, that went well,” Shan said with a snicker.
It was about time someone spoke up about how whorish Sandy was acting. To be honest, I really would’ve but I was glad that Jess was the one to do so; she was way more confident when someone needed to be called out on. Me? When someone gets in my face or disrespects someone with me around, that’s when I call someone out.
“You do realize that Sandy’s gonna blow this completely out of proportion, right?” Jess hissed before Mrs. Watters shooed her out.
Giving her a pitying look, I turned back around to see Mrs. Watters grumbling curse words under her breath. “All right, girls, time to get serious; today, we’re going to learn all about the horse’s skeletal system.”