"You look like crap." Maggie told me.
"Thanks," I said to my friend as I leaned up against my rusty, grey locker
"You are so welcome. But seriously you look positively green. Are you sick Jamie?" Maggie asked, taking a step back from me.
"Yes," I said, sending a fake cough in Maggie's direction. Maggie made a face that held absolute horror that made me laugh at my germaphobe friend.
"You are so TERRIBLE!"
"Really? I thought I was green," I stabbed back. Maggie stuck out her tongue at me. It was that damned dream again. Truth be told, Maggie had just woken me up from sleeping on my locker, but not that I would tell her that. She was already worried enough about me as it was. Apart from having parents like mine, who were terrible human beings, they thought they were wonderful humans, Maggie thought she knew what was going on at my house, but it was so much worse.
Sometimes, I compare my life to the Breakfast Club kids. My dad was like Bender's dad, always beating on me. My mom was like Allison's parents, she ignored me. Everyone thought my life was perfect, like Claire's. I hated making decisions like Andy, who couldn't think for himself as Allison had discovered. My brains were the only thing I had going for me, like Brian. I know that you only have one life, and you can decide what you do with it, but when your parents lock you in your room every time you come home, you don't have time for that kind of cliche.
"Jamie! Earth to Jamie. Come back from Pluto, Space Cadet. Hot guy at three o'clock." Maggie snapped her fingers in front of my face, bringing me out of my reverie. It wasn't anyone's fault, I just happened to have epilepsy and spacing out was one of my side effects.
"What? Hmm. I'm hungry, lets get some grub."
"Hey, I said hot guy, and you completely ignore me. Must you always feed?" Maggie complained. Her version of a hot guy and my version of a hot guy weren't even in the same league, let alone on the same planet.
"You have food?" Maggie sighed at my question. She knew I didn't get much to eat other than what I ate at school. I know you think that I'm giving you the poor, starving, kid cliche. But I'm not. I'm giving you the "Mom acts like I don't exist, and Dad wishes I was never born" cliche. I keep out of sight from Dad because feeling his wrath is like feeling cleats to the stomach, oh wait. Sometimes I wish Dad didn't play golf.
Maggie took out the other lunch box that her mum had packed for me, complete with a green apple, two sandwiches, a bag of my favorite Cool Ranch Doritos, a pack of Zebra Cakes, and a Capri Sun.
"Can you wait to eat, hot guy is looking over here and you aren't exactly delicate or polite when you chow down," she pleaded. I gave her a look, but she gave me one that begged me and I couldn't resist.
"Oh, can those eyes get any bigger," I asked, ruffling her short, curly brown hair. I zipped up her lunch box, and she sighed in relief. She waved the 'hot guy' over, and I turned back to my locker. I didn't feel like seeing how this went down. I didn't even want to see the guy, so I put the lunch box away, feeling a little put out, sad about waiting for the lunch box I knew would be scrumptious.
I was falling asleep again as the conversation continued and the next thing I knew I felt my head bang against the locker door.
"HOLY SHIITAKE MUSHROOMS! WHAT THE HELL?!" My head throbbed like I just got kicked in the head.
"Is that how they say hello around here?" A new voice said.
"You didn't have to bash my head into a locker door. SON OF A BISCUIT!"
"That was way much more fun than I thought it would be. Well, I have to go. Bye Mags," said the retreating voice.
"Yeah, you better run," I said quietly, holding the top of my head.
"Jamie! What the fug? You just randomly started yelling at Xander after he said hello?"
"What? I'm so confuzzled right now. Can I just eat, and then go to sleep during English, please? I'll apologize later." I pleaded, head still pounding. Maggie just walked off, so angry, a sea of people parted.
