Good Enough

Chapter 17- Justice.

The light hits my face as the sun seeps through my purple curtains . I open my tired eyes, but close them as I feel a stinging sensation.

Don't you just hate light in the morning?

My eyes flutter open, much slower this time; adjusting to the morning environment. I lift my body off of my bed, and drag my legs over to my bathroom. I take a hot shower, letting the warmth of the water envelope me in a rush of heat. Brushing my teeth in a circular motion, I take a look at my reflection in the mirror. Large heavy bags drag down the skin beneath my eyes; like two large potato sacks. There is a dried crust of drool beneath my lips, stretching to my chin. My hair looks like a birds nest that has just been destroyed; sticking up in all different directions.

I turn off the tap, my hair dripping into the sink, tapping against white basin. I wrap a towel tight around my body, and make my way towards my wardrobe. Not bothering to make an attempt, I grab the first outfit I can find. A pair of black, ripped skinny jeans, and a white crop top. I finish my outfit off with my black Adidas hoodie. Satisfied, I watch my reflection in the floor length mirror beside my bedside table.

You can never go wrong with black and white.

As I trudge down the stairs, I adjust my bag on my shoulder; making sure it doesn't fall off.

"Hey mom," I give her a kiss on the cheek, as I sit on the chair beside the counter.

"Hey sweetie," I could hear the love in her voice.

She puts a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs I front of me, the overwhelming aroma entering my nostrils, and unwillingly taking over my sense of smell. I don't take two seconds to dig in to my meal; the crumbs falling onto my lap. My mom watches me with an amusing glint in her giant green orbs.

"Careful love. We don't want to be choking, do we?" I laugh lightly, swallowing the remaining contents of my breakfast.

"But we also don't want to be late for school either. Do we?" I answer cheekily. She laughs wholeheartedly, before pulling a mega sassy pose, "Don't you be getting sassy with me, chicken." I let out a series of giggles, while clutching my stomach tightly.

My mom can be really childish at times.

***

I tap my fingers against the cold hard table; sending a loud vibration through my whole body. I never had been a big fan of Calculus. Never will be. I am quite good at it, I will admit that. Not trying to be big headed here or anything. But one thing I don't understand how it will help me in my later life. I'm not going to need to know what 2x-3 is for my career choice. I wanted to be a lawyer, or a fashion designer; two very different options, I know. But they are just things I enjoy, textiles has always been a love of mine, and after watching many, many, episodes of CSI:Miami; I have become interested in the world of law. So yea, not gonna need Calculus in any way, shape, or form.

"Miss Pearson!" Our teacher exclaims loudly. I snap my head up to look up to him, trailing away from my thoughts.

"Yes," I question, embarrassedly. My cheeks turn a bright shade of red, as I feel everyone's penetrating gaze burning through my soul.

I hate being put on the spot.

"What is the answer?,"he asks me, pointing to the board, where there is a question scribbled in black pen, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He clearly thinks I won't know the answer.

I read over the question, and answer without a second thought.

"The answer is 9x-4." The corners of my mouth tug up into just as much of a smug smirk.