The Quiet One

One

Senior year.

You're probably rolling your eyes right now. You're waiting for it. The glorification. The whole "the greatest year of your life, chance to make a last hurrah" spiel. Well my dear friend, you can release the breath you've been holding, bring your eyes back here instead of looking at the back of your head and listen to a pretty unpopular opinion.

Senior year can kiss my ass.

Why?

Because nothing has changed. And nothing will.

I've been attending the same PK-12 prep academy since, well, preschool. I know all the teachers on a first name basis, and I've basically been with same class since I started. I myself am pretty well known around the school, but not for anything miraculous. I'm not a cheerleader or dating the star athlete. I'm not in any clubs or involved in extracurricular. I just happen to be Wellington Preparatory Academy's token black student. And I've been the only black student for fourteen years, so it'd be a little awkward for people to not know who I am considering there's no other black girl to get me confused with.

When I wake up for my first day, instead of hearing trees rustling gently, and birds whistling through these thin windows, I hear the whoosh and bustle of the New York City streets below me. And just (literally) above that? Marcus Jackson, blaring his newest mixtape (and worst thus far) from the sound system in his dime sized living room.

I glance at my clock; 7 AM. Now I'm waiting.

As if on cue, my dad's heavy footsteps pound down the hall. The front door creaks open then slams. More heavy footsteps then pounding on Marcus' door upstairs. You can always tell when Marcus opens his door because the music sends the whole apartment building into earthquake mode. I can barely hear the sound of dad's yelling, but I don't have to hear it to know that's what he's doing; he does every morning. In a minute, the music is turned down to bearable levels, though the bass still vibrates my ceiling. I sigh and toss my blanket off.

It's now time to get up.

My school uniform hangs from the wall hook near my desk; I grab it and stalk to the bathroom. After washing up and putting on my pleated navy skirt and white button up, I start brushing my teeth.

The front door creaks open and Dad walks in, shutting it behind him.

Dad owns his own law firm called James & Associates. He started it back before Mom left us and since then, it's served as his second life. I don't recognize Dad when I visit him at the office. He seems so calm and in control, not at all like the easy-going Dad at home. He does love what he does, I can see that much in his eyes. He's so focused and ready. There's nothing he can't handle.

"Lilah?" He calls from the living room. I open the bathroom door and flash him a smile.

"I'm up!"

He grins and waves at me before walking to the kitchen. "I swear, it's not morning time if Marcus isn't blaring something ungodly."

I chuckle and finish brushing my teeth. Grabbing my blazer, I walk to the kitchen and sit at the island.

"You know what he had the audacity to say?" Dad shakes his head and puts a plate of eggs and bacon down in front of me. "He said 'early bird gets the worm'. I really looked at him too. I ain't see that man leave his house for anything except a trip to Walmart to get more CD's to burn and some chips."

I snicker and take a bite of my eggs as Dad pours us both some coffee. He glances at his watch. "It's already 7:22? And here I thought we had more time."