"I'm dropping you off at your class and you will wait for me to come back here to pick you up. I'm not gonna let you run off and fight this lil girl," Caren told me sternly.
"Fake friends, fake friends," I sung off key, putting my hands over my ears as I pretended to ignore her.
"Okay. Better stop before you end up having a class with Fake Friend and Bitch." Those were the new names we designated to Nolina and Tara. Fitting, in my opinion.
"Well, if that happens, they might as well suspend me now because I'mma turn this bitch up," I laughed, holding my arms out wide. "If either of them want me, they can come and get me."
"Enough of the big talk, Gi. You know you ain't bout it," one of my classmates said, walking through the hall.
"And yo hair still ain't done. How many years it's been since you had that sew in-
"Gialla," Caren said sharply.
"I will behave," I bowed in front of her.
"Please do. Lemme go before I'm late," Caren sighed at my antics, "Behave," she told me for a final time, walking away.
I straightened my fit back up and entered the class, searching the room for a seat.
I heard a lot of whispering from the people already inside and found out why soon enough.
I spotted the same black backpack Tara had carried around since the beginning of high school.
Somehow, it still looked brand new and intact.
Maybe I'm tripping...I know our counselors ain't do this shit...
I sat down at the brown desk the bag was laid on at the back of the class as other students filtered in and the teacher wrote down the beginning of the year TEKS. I played with the little zipper on her bag, staring absentmindedly ahead, waiting for Tara to return.
She must have gotten here before me, and left before Caren and I had arrived. Otherwise, it would have definitely been a confrontation at the doorway. I'll admit, I'm the instigator of most of our fights, but Tara starts some too. She'll wanna banter, and then shit gets physical. We've probably won and lost against each other an almost equal amount of times. We're matched in height, almost in weight, and for sure in anger.
"Alright. When the bell rings, I'll start passing this out. These are little note cards that you'll put your names on," the teacher informed us.
I frowned. I had some serious issues with the type of shit I get irritated with. Just that statement there bothered me. 'That you'll put your names on', like I don't have a choice but to do it. She could've said 'That I'd like you to put your names on' or something. Now I don't wanna do the shit.
What I look like listening to anybody?
I was fuming at the desk Tara declared hers when she walked in. When Tara was involved, anything could set me off. She didn't say anything as she calmly walked up to the seat in front of me on our row and sat down in it, facing my way, right as the bell rung.
The teacher began passing out the note cards, accepting the thank you's she received and answering questions along the way. Just write your name on the card...duhh. What more could you ask about? "Wassup," Tara said evenly, her elbows resting on the desk I sat at.
"Wassup," I said back in the same tone, mine with slightly more attitude.
"You gonna give me back my backpack?" she asked calmly, blinking her brown eyes with her annoying long lashes at me.
