Rebels

Rebels » Chapter Sixteen

Copyright © 2015 by azureblisss

"Yeah, that ain't my problem anymore."

"Jerk," I snapped. "You were supposed to help me!" I barked at him over the phone. Currently, I'm talking to Hayden, and Hayden is talking to me, over the phone.

He chuckled. "You see, there are a lot of meanings of 'other half'. Usually depends on the person who says it."

"Dumbass that's exactly my point," I told him. I told him everything about the necklace regarding Kyle and my mother.

"Okay, I see no point in helping you so buh bye!"

"What the heck no! Hayden, don't you dare hang up on me."

"Watch me."

"You little shit don—" He cut me off with those following words that made my heart skipped a beat.

"By the way," he says. "Advance Happy Birthday."

This caught me by surprise.

I think my eyes popped out of its socket. Not just because he greeted me, but because of the reason why I forgot my own birthday. Which is three days away based on the Gregorian calendar. I was about to respond him but he hung up. Meet Hayden.

My mind is basically lost since I found out about my mom's necklace, and exams are coming up. The whole week, I slaved myself over studying, analyzing mom's necklace, ignoring Kyle (because I can feel the awkward tension around us and him not knowing about the idea that I snooped in his privacy and found the necklace), and slaved myself over studying again.

Two weeks ago, I looked like shit because of a wildcat fight. By wildcat fight, I mean Georgina. This week, I still look like shit. My wounds and bruises are healing but the bags under my eyes aren't. I've had a countful of sleepless nights. Mostly because to stress now that exams are almost coming.

By almost, I mean tomorrow.

Just by glancing at the load of books laid out in front of me, I feel unease. I can do this. I've already familiarized a shit ton of words. If this is part of the subject's calculations, I'll play along with it. What the other students said was true, school is not about educating anymore, it's about passing.

But then, looking at these books, makes my mind explode. The newly formed yet tiny zit on my face should explain enough.

God, I need coffee.

I stood up from my chair and walked to the door. I reached for the doorknob and opened the structure of wood separating my room and the hallway. It was the same as usual, me walking downstairs to the kitchen, brew myself for a cup of coffee, go back upstairs, check on Amanda at her room (which is at her phone, as always), and head back to my chamber.

Minutes had passed and I'm still torturing myself here with these damn books. I don't even know why I am doing this, but this is not my interest at all. For the sake of my father's reputation, the Johnson siblings need to excel at all subjects. More like forced to excel. Moreover, the only thing I can do without getting caught at is being myself. In another person's point of view, it's called being rebellious. But me being rebellious is the only thing that keeps me away from all these stuff. It is my comfort zone.

A series of knocks on the door snapped me away from my thoughts. Ah, yes, my savior.

"The door's open!" I yelled at the person on the other side.

I'm not surprised when Amanda walked in the room.

"If you want my permission for you to go to a party and get your ass drunk then no, I'd decline," I told her as she ignored what I said and sprawled out on my bed.