Different. (possible deletion)

Preface.

Angelique's P.O.V.

I woke up to the sound of my mothers loud ass TV.

"Jody don't love me no more," a discernible voice from the television cried out repeatedly. "Jody don't love me no more." It was Baby Boy; one of my favorite movies. I smiled and opened my bedroom door. The smell of weed danced through our living room, the small hallway, to my room. She's High, I thought to myself before entering the bathroom and doing the usual.

I walked into the kitchen to see my mom smoking, still. I don't feel like greeting her so I just walked pass the table getting an donut that was in the box.

"Oh so you too grown to say good morning?" She growled, getting ready to walk out.

"Hi.." I mumbled.

"That's what the hell I thought. And the hell you think your ass is doing? Them ain't yo' donuts."

I breathed heavily, then threw the donut back inside the box. I go inside the cabinet and get a poptart.

"That's mine too."

My jaw tightened she was doing this on purpose. I reached for a granola bar.

"Mines again,"

A banana, "Ant!" She let out a hearty laugh, sounding like one of those buzzers when you get the question wrong.

A muffin, "YOU BETTER NOT FUCKING THINK ABOUT TOUCHING MY MUTHERFUCKING MUFFIN!"

"THEN WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO EAT? HUH!" I snapped. I was hungry as hell and I only get fed small TV dinners.

"Better be a damn trashitarian," She chuckled, but I didn't find any of this humorous.

I roll my eyes and walk out the apartment hungry.

•••

After School.

I smiled, hugging my bestfriend Bahja Rodriguez.

"It's our last year of being Sophomores!" She smiled. "How do you feel?"

"Great," I beamed, feeling cheerful today. It felt great to know that I when I started school next year that I only have one grade left. I look down the hallway of a crowd of students waiting to go outside and hop on the buses and start their summers. As for me, I was dreading walking home. This was basically my escape. "It feels wonderful."

"It does. Doesn't it?"

"Yeah," I sigh, collecting my denim vest from my locker putting it on. At my school we wear uniforms and we're not supposed to wear extra things like vests, colorful jackets and such. (A/n: My school is actually is like this and its not a private school.)

"Ready?" She asked, pulling her phone out her pocket.

"Yuppery,"

Bahja lives down the street from me and we walk home together everyday. As we walk out the school our peers ask for signatures for their yearbooks, hugs, pictures, and my phone number. I gladly give them all. I'm pretty popular, but I really don't know why. I'm just simple; I don't smoke, drink, or none of that. I party but that's sometimes. [when my mom isn't home or when she's knocked out.] I mainly focus on my studies and making sure my grades are on point.

After the buses fade out and people stop asking for stuff Bahja grabs my hand, I smile. She's my only bestfriend, I mean I have a 'group' I hang with but Bahja is the only one understands me. We've know each other since 6th grade. She was a new girl and people made fun of her because of her braces and big eyes. But I always thought Bahja was pretty, I'm the one who actually helped her build her confidence. That's really why we're such good friends. In 7th grade she told me that she was bi sexual and that's what she is no judging, no nothing still good friends.