Broken Heart Season

Chapter Three.

When Monday finally came, the week was going to go by as slow as Neptune takes to orbit around the Sun. Monday mornings are always dreaded like every other teenager says, and it's obviously true to me. They are the longest mornings of the week, just like Friday afternoons.

My phone's alarm started blaring it's Monday alarm, "Uptown Funk" by Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars, but that didn't stop me from hitting the snooze button at least five times. Once my phone's screen showed 6:35 a.m. as the time, I threw my covers away from my legs and slowly got out of bed.

I did my business in the bathroom and changed into a cropped black T-shirt with a grey oversized sweatshirt to go over it. I slipped on my grey cotton shorts with lace on the sides and my favorite pair of galaxy-styled Vans that I wore nearly every day.

The long-bodied mirror showed a girl with straight, dark brown hair that went down nearly to her hips. Her emerald green eyes looked drained, but people thought they were only exhausted. When I posed, she posed.

"Brinley! Hurry the hell up!" My older sister's voice screeched throughout the house, making her voice sound like a dying turkey. How could her friends and boyfriend handle that? How could our mom handle that?

I grabbed my phone and made my way down the wooden staircase. Bradley was waiting at the door for me with her high-heeled foot tapping very impatiently. Every time that her foot tapped on our granite flooring, I cringed.

"Finally!" She mumbled under her breath as she opened the door.

She kept the door open for me as I followed her footsteps. As we walked outside, I was grateful that I had chosen to wear my sweatshirt. The air was chilly, and what made it worse was the wind was blowing.

"Here's your keys," Bradley threw my keys at me, and surprisingly I caught them very close to my face. "I grabbed them while I was waiting on your slow ass."

I rolled my eyes while getting into my Jeep Wrangler and pushing the key into the ignition. The engine made a satisfying roar as I started the vehicle up. The radio immediately turned on and started playing the top country station I listen to nearly 24/7. There is nothing better than having Tim McGraw blasting through the speakers of your vehicle.

As I pulled up to the school parking lot, a small clique of teenagers were standing in the middle of my usual parking spot. I flashed my high beam headlights on to make them notice my vehicle was right in front of them. They still didn't move.

I rolled down my window and slammed my fist on the horn, and shouted, "Would you please move out of my parking spot before I fucking run you over? Some people like to actually get to class on time!"

Two of the girls gave me a bitter, annoyed look, but scurried along to the sidewalk with the others. I drove into my parking spot and parked, turning my vehicle off.

I grabbed my backpack and jumped out of the Jeep. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall boy that was very tanned, who's dark brown eyes were staring straight at me. He was standing on the curb of the sidewalk, leaning on the gates that surrounded the track field. Weird, I thought to myself, never seen him before. Once he saw me staring back, he immediately looked down at the concrete.

As I walked to my first period, Calculus AP, I couldn't really get the thought of the mystery boy out of my brain. I had never seen him around before. The only reasoning to never seeing him must be that he is a new kid. I walked into the classroom and sat down in the back corner, right next to the window. Class should have started three minutes ago, making me wonder what was keeping Mr. Wright so long. As I looked around the class, only a few kids weren't here in the room yet. They were saved my the lateness of Mr. Wright.

After a few minutes, the rest of the class filled up the left over seats. Mr. Wright walked in, having to duck to go through the doorway. I'm so glad I am only 5'1.

"Okay class," Mr. Wright spoke up, setting down his briefcase. "I need to grade your last week's quiz, so I need you to work on the practice pages for the next chapter. The pages are in the back of the book on page 750 through 752."

All you could here was the sound of students shuffling through their backpacks to find their Calculus AP book and flipping to the page. I grabbed a few sheets of paper out of my binder and started copying down the problems. Out of the corner of my right eye, I saw some boy standing in the middle of the doorway, holding a slip in his right hand. He cleared his throat to get our teacher's attention. He ended up getting the whole class's attention.

Mr. Wright beckoned him over, still grading last week's quiz. The boy walked over and handed him the slip, mumbling to the teacher something that I couldn't make out. He looked familiar...

"Ah, yes. You must be Jax Welsh, am I correct?" Mr. Wright asked, looking at 'Jax'. The boy nodded. "Well, we just started our practice for the next chapter, and your seat will be in the back corner next to Ms. Carter."

Jax looked my way and walked over in my direction. He sat down in the desk next to me on my right, the one that was always empty until now. I gave him a small smile, then went back to my work.

"Psst.." I heard him whisper as he tapped my shoulder with his pencil. "What page is it on?"

I quietly rolled my eyes; I didn't even care if he noticed or not. "It starts on page 750, ends on 752."

He nodded and flipped to the correct page. I went back to my work, but even his presence made me unable to concentrate. He kept tapping and twirling his pencil between his fingers. I could tell he was anxious by the way he bit the corner of his bottom lip with his two front teeth and how he kept bouncing his knee up and down.

As I looked at him, the familiarity of his face made me realize who he looked like. The mystery boy from the school parking lot. But something was different about him compared to the boy from the parking lot. This Jax kid looked tanner than the mystery boy. Maybe this Jax kid won't be so bad to sit next to, I thought.