To her and her friends it was just a time to h a n g o u t
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Warning: Smut
Eva's friends suck.
Eva's boyfriend cheated.
Eva's new friends are sluts.
The only real friend she has is Harry.
And that comes with benefits.
I wake up a few minutes before my alarm is supposed to ring. I'm anxious and exited at the same time. I expected the feeling of butterflies in my stomach, this is different.
I can't sleep so I decide to put a bath robe on and head to the shower. After I'm done I get dressed.
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When I put my clothes on I frown. The shorts are a little to short for school. I put on a longer pair that is almost identical to the last.
I wash and comb my hair before putting it in a fishtail braid. Soon I'm done getting ready for school. I have 20 minutes left so I watch TV to kill time.
Mom walks downstairs. "Time to go to school!" She says in a singsong voice. I love my mom, but the singsong thing is annoying.
"Is Dad home?" I ask hopefully.
"No," Mom replies. "He went to work before you woke up."
I don't get to see my dad all the time, sometimes he has to come home late and leave for work early. It's not like he's never here though, I get to see him most days of the week.
I quickly get up from the couch and turn off the TV.
"Bye Mom, I'll send you pictures after school," I say, reading her mind. Mom always wants to take a picture of me on the first day of school so I started taking them on my own.
After I sling my backpack over my shoulder I walk to Cindie's house.
I wait outside Cindie's for her. We have been walking to school together for years. Some things never change.
Just then, Cindie walks out of her house. She's wearing a simple floral skater skirt and a white blouse.
"Hey," Cindie says. As she closes the door behind her her mom says goodbye. Cindie doesn't reply.
"Hey," I say. Me and Cindie start walking. • • • School, Literature
"I want each of you to take your notebook and number the pages to 30," my English teacher says.
I open the notebook that the teacher gave the whole class and start numbering. She wants us to write an essay or a story, whatever she chooses, in these notebooks about a day we had or a certain topic every week.
I'm not very excited. I am not that good at writing essays, and I'm sure thats what the English teacher will make us do most of the time.
After what feels like five hours the teacher dismisses us. I have to go to chemistry next.
I stop at my locker and enter my locker combination. None of the girl's lockers are near mine. Two guys have lockers on each side of mine. I feel kind of alone.
