our story

~four~

I don't know why I do this to myself. I stay up until one hour before I'm supposed to be awake. Then I'm tired and it sucks.

She's awake though, she said she was getting up early to do her homework, her bad habit. I get dressed and then wait for my mom to tell me its time to go, the usual school morning routine. I wish she'd just be nicer, not that she's a horrible mom, she provides for me and takes care of me. I just wish she'd tell me she was proud of me every once in a while, not everyday, just sometimes. 

I click on her chat and tell her good morning, as friends do,

good morning

wyd

my homework, wbu

nothing

nice

yea

I hear my mom call me so I grab my black zip up and go out the door. She's already in the car when I get out there and I can tell that for whatever reason, she's mad.

"Why'd you take so long?" she asks once I'm buckled.

"I came out here as fast as I could, I'm sorry."

"Yea, well you're gonna make me late, so thanks for that." she says.

"Sorry." I say, a bit under my breath, which earns me a death glare, but I don't care. It honestly doesn't affect me anymore...  Yes it does.

It's a ten minute drive from my house to my grandparents house, so by 5:45 I'm walking in the door as my mom is already half way down the road, heading to work. 

"Good morning." my grandpa says to me as he's closing the door.

"Morning, grandpa." I reply, not really being in the mood for small talk.

I sit on the couch and scroll through tiktok ignoring the notifications I'm getting, even at this hour. At around 6:30, I make myself toast for breakfast. We'll leave in about thirty minutes. I'm always the first to school, because I get there so early. Its nice having quiet time to myself, even at home I'm always playing with Julian and Carter. 

I get a "han is typing notification..." and ignore it, you can't click into a chat when someone is typing, that's weird. So I also ignore the notification I get when she sends the chat. 

"Dylan! Time to go!" my grandpa shouts from the garage door.

"Okay! Coming!" I yell back. I grab my bag and head to the car, buckling as I get in. I put my airpods in and turn on some music, then answer texts. She asked me what I'm doing so I tell her that I'm driving to school. She doesn't respond so I assume that she's busy getting ready. She's never really early, unless she's with her dad. She used to be late all the time, like almost everyday that she was with her mom. She hates being late now.

We pull into the parking lot and Mr. Brown opens my door for me. I walk into the building and enter the empty classroom. Even the sixth grade is empty, I think I'm completely alone, not including teachers. 

I take my homework out and finish the few problems I had left. I'm putting my books away and taking my phone out when she walks in. At first I think my eyes are playing tricks on me because she's never early, but its her.

She's standing in the doorway like a deer in headlights, just staring. I'm doing the same thing though so I can't blame her. Finally she begins walking over to put her stuff down and we sit in an awkward silence for a few minutes.