Girl

School Day

What is the meaning of this hell hole called school? I ask myself, nearly passing out in English class.
It's not like I'll use any of this information anyway.
It's not like I'm gonna have to write a book about Romeo and Juliet's wrong doings.
It's not like I'm gonna need to know who Oedipus' daughters are when I'm paying taxes.
It's not like I'm gonna--
"Tamara."

I pick my head up and pry my eyes open even more, even though the day is almost over, but they itch and they're sore. My black and short hair sticks to the side of my face and oh God I wish I was back home. Why couldn't these fifteen minutes go by faster?

"Yes?"
My teacher glared at me.
I stared back.
"Read please."
It was a command, not a question.
Not wanting to ask her what page we were on, I glanced at the desk next to me. 394. The Harry Potter freak inside me squealed.

Smiling a tiny bit at the page number, I begin to read. It was something about Poe, but I was too tired to comprehend. It felt like she was taking forever to decide when I should stop reading. I get to the end of the page and look up at her without moving my head. She opened her mouth and ordered another kid to read. What was his name? Thomas?

When he was in the middle of the page, the bell rang.

Grabbing my army green tote bag I hurry out of the room, with my English teacher sternly watching my every move.
God she gives me the creeps.

I silently walk down the hall and exit the building. My dirty black converse swerve around the many people who were just standing there, talking to their boyfriends, girlfriends, slow walkers and gossiping girls.

I finally finally finally get to my car and wait.
Where is he?

At long last, although it was probably just a few minutes, my brother came along. He's a year older than I.
He stood outside the car door talking to the friend that made him so late, and then he actually got in, after like, three bro hugs with the guy.

I stare at him.
"What?"
"Can we go now?"
"Well damn, you don't need to give me attitude,"
I started the car and backed up. I'm sixteen, in my sophomore year, and I've only got a permit. In a few months I'll be able to get my license.

"Well I shouldn't have to wait so long for you to finish talking to your boyfriend--"
"Whoa, he is not my boyfriend," Anthony scoffed.
"Mmmhmm,"
"Listen punk, you wanna go?"
"Home yeah." I say bored.
"Whatever. And keep your eyes on the road."
"Wh-?"
"I see you checkin' that guy out."
I looked at him disgustedly.

"There are no attractive guys here."
" 'Cept me," Anthony says smugly with a smirk on his face.
"Including you,"
He folds his arms, blinks, and then starts "You know what--?"
I drown him out with music.

He turns it back down.
"Look Tammy--"
"Don't call me Tammy."
"Anyway, Tammy--"
I stopped at a red light and socked him in the arm. "Whaddya want?"

"Me and my friends," my friends and I, I corrected him in my head. "We're gonna go out tonight so, I'm gonna need to borrow the car."

Ew. Sweaty teenage boys? Sitting? In the back of this car?
"You're gonna make it smell weird." I whine.
"The hell do you mean by that?!"
"I mean you're sweaty and gross and I still remember that last time I found a beer bottle in here and you tried to say I--"
"Tam, that was months ago! A year in fact!"
"I know, Anthony, but it's still fresh in my mind. As I'm sure it is mom and dads..."
"Oh come on. It's our car and you don't even go out on Fridays anyways!"

It was true. I really don't hang out with anyone period.
I wait a moment before finally giving him the o.k.

We reach the house. We've lived in it ever since Anthony and I were toddlers. My parents aren't home, we come to that conclusion after finding their cars aren't in the garage.

Pops, our white, brown, and black calico cat, runs down the hall as we set foot into the kitchen. For an aging cat, he's still got a lot of spring in his step. Run. Whatever.

Anthony plops himself down in front of the TV and opens a family sized bag of Doritos.

"Why don't you try eating something like a banana for once?" I question.
He burps in reply.
Boys are disgusting.

I run up the stairs to my room and flop on my bed. I fall asleep quickly.