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You know that feeling when your gut tells you not to do something--as well as your bestfriend. Yeah. Imagine liking someone, but not just any like- I mean like-like. That feeling where everything they say and do folds knots in your stomach-- and genitals. Stop. It's as if the way you view them is almost flawless. No imperfections, nothing they could ever do to make you not love them. Fuck love. I mean like. They drive you crazy in every possibility. Even when it's in the wrong ways and goes against everything you believe in. Is it 'tough love' that people call it? I couldn't give 1 fuck let alone 2. But you would want him to fu- No.
The thing is, with me, I don't have to imagine about that. What I do wanna imagine about though, is him. His straight hair that I would die to pass my hands through. High cheekbones that structure his face perfectly. His face that I wanna rid- No. The upturned nose that you would want to kiss every night before going to bed. Almost straight eyebrows with a slit on his left one. Those eyes- fuck those eyes. With one look he would make me weak in my fucking knees, I might as well be on my knees for a purpose if that's the case. That eye and eyebrow combination, he can make any female fall in love if he tried. He didn't even have to try with me- and here I am. Geeking over a fucking bo-
"Ms. Russell!"
Somebody get this lady some dick. What's the sense of her teaching if no one understands. Her voice alone disrupts the peace of my blasted soul.
"Are you paying attention, young lady?" She interrogates. Mind your business. Weren't you teaching?
"Of course!" I plaster a welcoming smile on my face as if I wasn't fantasizing about the man I'd like to fuck.
"I'd have to disagree since you were absent-mindedly gazing at those interesting educative charts on the wall." Sarcasm dripping from her tone. Very funny.
"Come on miss, let's not get jealous of charts here." I reply, rude but who cares. Her teaching skills can be compared to dog shit on pavements, and it'd be a close comparison.
"Okay smart mouth, I hope your brain is where your mouth is at." I purse my lips together as my eyebrows automatically go up- my failed attempt at trying to pretend I totally understood what she just said. "Since you're one of the cleverest student in the entire school, what's -5+x=5?" Does this lady think I'm freaking Albert Einstein? Face...still in that position. I'm worried it'll get stuck like that, the period of time I try to calculate this in my head like a smartass, with a smart mouth, her words.
"X= 10." I respond accordingly. Okay maybe I was in a daze not too long ago- but I'm not a total cunt.
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Fuck. I hate this. The amount of times in my life I'd have to endure the shitty statements of how much I need school, why I should focus instead of daydreaming in class, and that I need that education if I want jobs. Really thinking I should just pull a Kennedy and flat-out decide to be a stripper for the rest of my life. Though that would never happen. My parents would be so disappointed of me to the point I'd find the walls more interesting than having confrontations with them. And no matter how much I may complain- I would still try my best in my education just for them.
We're all out of class, the fresh breeze slapping my face and my hair embraces it. Really feeling like I'm in a movie of somewhat. I see them at our usual spot where we all talk an unlimited amount of shit- each of us having our own stories and all of us being intrigued by it.
I observe Jade stuffing her face with a cupcake- this bitch loves to eat, but I love her also. We've been friends for a while and I've grown to appreciate her and love her just like a best friend would. Beside her is Darrel, her boyfriend. He stands just staring down as she gobbles down that cupcake on the bench. His name oddly reminds me of someone that would own an air-conditioning company. But nevertheless.
Next to her is Kiara. My whole lover, my blood. Call me a lesbian, I don't care- I'm not. I just love my bestfriend. Kiara and I haven't always been friends till recently. We went the same elementary school together, knew each other, but for years just addressed as classmates. That was until we found out we're going the same high school, and honestly being friends with her is the best decision I've ever made. She understands me on a level that no one else does. And there's not a day I'm not thankful for it. Even when we weren't close friends, she was still there for me.
Why fuck the is everything always my fault? It's always me that they blame. Me, me, me. Fuck I wish I was never here. I hate being hated by my own fucking family but having to deal with this petty shit at school I don't want it. I wipe my tears but there's no use, they continuously flow down my cheeks while I sit on this hard piece of tile in the school's bathroom. I can't wait till I go high school and is away from all of these fucks. I hate every-single-one-of-these-hard-headed-assholes who only see one side of the story- whose story they are, by the way, believing is the POV of a narcissistic bitch who sticks up to teachers so she'll have good grades to please her grandpa's standards.
Footsteps. I hear footsteps. A face to match those footsteps. Kiara, from my class. The fuck is she doing here? The look on her face is nothing short of pity. Is she...tearing up? She accompanies me on tile- caressing my hand as she looks at me. "It's a surprise to see you crying." She states simply. "I know she's a bitch. Matter of fact they're all assholes for believing her as well. I believe you- even though I know we're not that close- but I'm not stupid. I didn't buy her bullshit story and whatever-the-fuck-that-was when she pulled out some ugly ass bracelet from her bag- saying she got it for your birthday."
"She can shove it up her ass for all I care." I deadpan. But it's true. I couldn't care less about some stupid bracelet when she has our classmates constantly siding with her, blaming me, hell even got our teacher to despise me for whatever reason.
"What I don't understand though is why you're crying..? You never cry, especially in school. You'd rather be caught dead than for someone to see you crying, especially over Kim. We all know she's got sticks up her ass- but some people just side with her because they just do. Just like I side with you." All these words, that I barely even comprehended, but valued. I never thought she could be this good of a person, everyone made her seem like such a cry-baby. But there's always reasons for someone's cries. Tears trickle down her face, making both of us a sobbing mess. She hugs me, and we just cry together but I don't know what I would've prefered other than being understood by someone at this very moment.
I recall the memory that boosted the bond that we have today. Two years ago- elementary school. I'm lucky to have someone that was there for me through those times- forever grateful for her. Though I know there's something she's not telling me.
I plop myself down next to Kennedy- Sister from another mister. We've also been bestfriends for a lengthy time and I love her like a sister.
"Yo Dogs." I immediately recognize that cocky voice. Connor. My actual blood. He approaches me by shoving my shoulder. "You think because you're my cousin you can shove me around?" I state hysterically. He furrows his eyebrows and makes a puppy-eye face, well atleast I think it's that. He just looks likes he's imitating a moaning face.
I look over to my left- to see Ki unusually interested at the stone on the floor. Didn't know stones could be so interesting. She kicks it around while stealing glances at my cousin now and then, looking away quickly after. I shake off the inspection and continue to chat. I already warned her about what a dick he can be, so there's nothing to worry about.
