Cakes Ablaze

CHAPTER 2

IN WHICH LIFE SUCKS

My English teacher was a slip of a woman. She has a heart-shaped mole on the side of her face and a shock of white-blond hair. It was bad enough that the mole was the first thing you'd see when meet miss Penny (aside from her lisp, which I thought was charming) she's also very fidgety and kept on touching the mole every five minutes like it ought to disappear.

She was droning on and on about pride and prejudice (which I've read only about a hundred times) and my eyes kept drifting to the wall clock above the mantle of our classroom. I was chewing the cover of my pen like my life depended on it, while tapping my feet to the tic of the clock. Shortly before this class, my best friend Maddie told me with a straight face, "I'm dropping out of school."

At first, I thought it was one of her usual pranks, but the flat tone of her usual high-pitched, singsong voice said otherwise. She said we'd talk about it better during lunch, but the nerves racking my belly wouldn't let me concentrate.

Looking at the clock for the fifth time in a minute, Miss Penny levels a stare at me and asks in her very prominent southern accent. "Is there anywhere you need to be, Katy?"

"No ma'am," I reply in contrite, forcing myself to concentrate.

The class drags on forever, and when the bell finally rings signaling the end of this class and the beginning of break, I'm out of my seat like the chair's on fire. Mostly because I need to use the bathroom and then hear what Maddie needs to say. My sneakers make an audible squeak on the polished floors of the hallway as I hurry toward the bathroom.

The walls of the bathroom used to be white once upon a time, and I quickly take care of business, preferring not to choke on the pungent smell of antiseptic and piss. While washing my hands, a quick glance at the mirror shows that my makeup is still intact and I'm in dire need of a haircut. I run a hand through my hair, trying to straighten it. My black straight as a pin hair has been waist length for as long as I can remember, and while mom appreciates the length, it was becoming a hassle to maintain.

My parents adopted me at age five, and I remember during bedtime, while I was still getting used to everything; the luxury of my new house and the attention from my new parents,  mom always made sure to spend some time with me before my bedtime and after showering. She would gently brush my hair while humming 'lost boy', put my hair up in different styles and tell me how lucky she was to have a princess daughter and how I reminded her of snow-white, it's one of my fondest memories with mum.

Snapping out of my brief reverie, I make my way towards my locker, greeting a few people along the way. The hallway is crowded, and my anxiety increases with every passing body brushing past me. I see Jonnie leaning on my locker, scanning the bustling bodies around him, probably searching for me. I plaster a smile on my face as I near him.

"Hi."

"Hi yourself." Chocolate eyes sparkle at me as he tilts his head, planting a sweet kiss on my lips. The comforting smell of cinnamon and aftershave engulfs me and instantly all traces of anxiety fizzles out of me.

We talk about our weekend while strolling hand in hand into the cafeteria. I tell him how much I enjoyed the company of the kids while filling in for Angie on Saturday and he tells me how tough football practice has been while ruffling his curly black hair. As we near the cafeteria, the smell of grease, fast food, and desperation permeates the air.

"Coach's threatening to bench Tommy if he flunks calculus again, and we need him if we want a chance at qualifying in football season this year." He frowns, clearly disturbed by it. We reach our table, drop our backpacks, and head to the lunch line.