I'm Wide Awake

iCant. 7

Ida

"Look, I just don't understand why he can't do the time," I explain to Charlie as we head to our lockers, "didn't his mom tell him do the crime, do the time?" I slam the locker shut once I successfully chuck all my textbooks without damaging anything. I'm well known to breaking things...mainly hurting myself, but sh.

Frustrated Charlie lets out a low growl, "You don't get it. Okay? You don't understand what it's like to have your donor behind bars. Watching him rot in that place and visit him, having to face those dull, lifeless eyes." She continues ramming me with 'reasonable' explanations on why her father should be let out of jail.

Charlie and I have been friends ever since we both learnt that it wasn't funny any more to fart in public. Here I'm facing a situation whereas I tell my best friend that her dad deserves what he got, whilst her heart broke of having to see him receive his medicine. I've never been the greatest comforter, and this wasn't going to change any time soon.

"Charlie, he shot someone. Killed. No more, dead. Nada." I try to explain to her what he did, he killed someone. A life for a life, just as an eye for an eye.

"He is my dad, I know him. Five years is enough, that's five years of my life, and half a decade," she looks at me with a hard gaze and spits out, "but you wouldn't know about any of that would you? Having a perfect, worrying dad and all."

"Don't throw that at me," I fire back. Shaking my head I whisper at her, clutching my books tighter, "Don't."

"Like I said," she flicks her bangs out of the way, "I know him."

"You can never know someone." I look at her meaningfully, trying, begging for her to understand. Her dad is a horrible man and she can't seem to see that, she's blinded by the image her dad painted for her, rather that the one that has been captured by fresh eyes.

"I will do anything to get my dad out of there. Anything." She vows, she turns to me and looks me in the eye. "Promise me you would do the same?"

The determination and promise in her eyes is daunting. It holds something.

I look back and give a convincing smile, "Anything."

**

"What's x?"

My hand instantly shoots up, my maths teacher mouth flips into a smalls smile at the sight. With a shake of his head he says, "Anyone else?" Crickets.

My hand still hovers above me in the air, now waving around manically asking for attention. This is ridiculous, when I don't have my hand up, they choose me. The one time that I do, it's a 'No Ida, give someone else a chance.'

"Roman. Would you please come up and give us the answer to  'x'?" Mr O'Connor taps his ruler against the whiteboard, hitting the unanswered equation. I roll my eyes when he asks Roman for the answer. I'm queen of Algebra, and here he ignores my presence.

Roman looks up and scrunches his nose, "Uhm, may I not?"

My maths teacher clears his throat, "Excuse me, let me rephrase. Roman, come on up and give us the answer to x."

Roman mutters, "Why can't you do it yourself?"

Ryland pipes in next to him, "What? Sorry, I didn't quite catch that, can you say it a little bit louder please?" he asks with a grin.

Earning a punch from Roman, he himself stands up and snatches the whiteboard marker from the board and begins to scribble the answer. Messily, I might add. Oh, I might have failed to mention the lovely companion of two of the Madden siblings in my Algebra class.

I narrow my eyes as my teacher nods, satisfied with his answer, and pats Roman's shoulder in which he stares at as if the teacher just gave him rabies, "You sell yourself short, next time if you were as complying, I wouldn't have to force you." It's obvious that they're threats to me, stealing my spotlight and all. No one's a friend in Algebra.

Before we know it the bell rings and Roman is rushing out the door, but not being able to resist he shoulder bumps his brother sending him into a wall. Our teacher notices this and just shakes his head with a smile.

You may be kind and funny, but you're mean to me. I thought we had something Mr O. Picking up my books with a little force, I begin my way out the door.

"Ida?"

I turn around slowly and bounce on my toes once, interested on what else he was going to take away from me, "Yes?"

"Great work today. Keep it up," Mr O gives me a nod and a full smile. Full smile! With a now brightened mood I nod in gratitude and walk out the door whilst performing a small happy dance in my head. This is cut short when I'm bombered and trapped by two large bodies, looking oddly similar. I swear I felt my heart hit my ribcage, I'm not great with sneak attacks.

Riled up and frustrated with my stolen spotlight along with the unappreciated sneak attack, I jab the two brothers in the chest.

"You," Jab.

"-Don't," Jab.

"-Do," Jab.

"-That." I finish with two hands blocking my last jab.

"Ugh. What do you want?" I ask, completely done and over with the day.

"So, since you're friends with our sister now," Roman says.

"And are like, on a nickname basis now," Ryland continues on.

"We can now sit with you," Roman concludes, his face beaming with delight.

With a grin I shoot them down and tilt my head, "How about a no?"

"Oh?" Roman says.

I nod, and confirm, "Such Oh."

Roman starts making disapproving sounds and leans his arm on my shoulder-curse my shortness, "Ida...you see, this is what you don't understand. You're either friends with none of us, or all of us." I turn my attention towards Ryland, and see him completely ignoring us, his hands continuously running through his hair. I mentally shrug, I don't blame him. The man has nice hair.

"This is changing once Rae rae and I break up." I state as I lead the way to the cafeteria, the boys quietly trailing like lost dogs behind me, whilst attracting the attention of the jealous girls in my school.

They can have them, well, Roman.

"Rae rae?" Roman asks, perplexed and amused at the given nickname.

"Yuhp." I say popping the 'p' obviously pleased with the creation.

Roman lets out a dry chuckle and boasts "Sorry darling, you're in this for life."

His words disturbed me to the core and I couldn't help but silently look at him.