Wallflower

Chapter Two.

Chapter two or another chapter in wallflower.

"How was school?" Mom sat across from me at the table. Her teeth chattering about her day as usal, but she wasn't talking to me.

"Good," Dennis beant down and pecked her on the forehead. Everytime he kissed her he would flick his eyebrows up at me as if to say haha. Mother pushed her plate on the floor to the dogs and stood up not even looking at me, fiddiling with her thin ponytail.

"You aren't going to ask?"

She spun around, "what?"

"You know. First day of highschool."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She pulled out a chair, "how was it?"

"Fine."

"Brilliant," and she stood-up, walked out of the room and didn't even bother to hold a conversation.

Dennis stood at the other end of the table holding a glass of clear bubbly liquid, smiling, "Oh, Annie."

I woke up around five to read ol' Fitz. For the third day of school, I already felt tired. The walls of my room were covered in photos along with gray chipping paint. I rolled over to turn off my alarm clock, I jumped up, put on a pair of cargos and tip-toed down stairs. Ollie laid there in the foryer barking at a bug on the wall. I put on my favorite pair of flipflops and kissed her on the top of the head.

The bus was cold and quiet. Nothing to talk about, I guess. I could hear Angel and the Jew-Fro-Guy bickering. The sound of texting. And that was really it. Mat was playing a song about heartbreak. You know the ones with a high-beat, but sad lyrics. Divorced, yet, classy. Angel twittered behind me, his breath  sharp, like he was furious.

"An."

I scooted around on my knees, eye-level with his gorgeous locks of sand. "What?"

"Just making you do okay."

I stared at him.

"That you were okay?" He asked.

And I smiled, "yes. What's the issue with Jew-Fro?"

"Joseph?" Of course his name was Joesph, "he's just being him. See; I've known him since I moved here to NY last year."

"Where you before then?"

"Ohlam."

I had to think of where I saw that, but I wasn't sure. So I just shook my head. My bangs fell infront of my eyes and blew them up with two deep breaths.

"Guess, Genuis." He smiled, his famous Angel smile. Full of perskickety sexiness.

"You look... eurpean?"

"I get that alot, but I am not white, بريتي." (Pretty one.)

I smacked my forehead in bliss ignoracne and sat up a little more, "Sudia Arabia."

"Correctomendo."

"Nuh-uh," I shuffled on my thighs, 'lies."

"No lies. Just truth." His eyes always flittered when he lied. So it made him pretty damn truth worthy. (The old man told me this.) The bus came to a stop and Angel came forward- our foreheads touching. His breath was warm mint and his eyes, I could see, were a green. A brown-like green. After everyone got off Angel grabbed my mid-length cuffs and pulled me off the bus, "no late for mental health." He pulled me to the door like he did everyday and I bit my tongue to correct him.

"Can't be late."

Mr. Adkins was poking at Alaska like usal, when he saw us, he turned and motioned us to sit down. "Hello, An.. and the other An. Both Ans." He laughed at his own joke and I took a desk two away from The Other An.