Not What You Would Think

Not What You Would Think(pt.1)

Do you ever have those days where your listening to music and for those minutes, it's like the whole world isn't there. But then, you take off your headphones,turn off the music and realize, this is reality. You look around the room and don't understand why everyone is in conversation or is gossiping about someone at their school or college or job. It makes you feel like, damn what has this place become. I mean your in a restaurant and you don't realize this until you take off your headphones and look around. It's like in life. If you take off your mask and put down your guard, reality hits you and you get stomped all over. It's sucks. But why? I don't really know. I won't ever know. I just don't think I care to know. Without friends and family where would we be? With my best friend Tara, I can tell her anything. But nothing as serious as this. Because, anybody would think this is retarded just thinking about it. And if it's weird then, call me a weirdo.
        I mean, after I took off my headphones, I got up from the table, and walked out of the restaurant. My parents weren't there. It was just me. By myself. At age 14. Yeah, I know what your thinking. Who the hell are you parents? Well, the truth is,I don't have any. I was put in a girls' home. It sucked. But I got taken in by my sister. She was finally able to support me. See, I kinda of got myself screwed by ya know fighting other chicks at school and what not but if you mess with me, that's what your gonna get. So, what do you expect. I decided to walk home and sit down on the couch, reading a book. As soon as I got close to my house, some idiotic chicks that I think we're drunk came up to me in a Corvette. I tried to ignore them, but it didn't work.
       "Hey! Tuff Stuff! Why are you walkin all alone at 7 o'clock at night?"
       I should've screamed at her, "Get lost! Your drunk so go home!" But I didn't. I said this instead.
      "Can you leave me the hell alone! I didn't do anything to you, did I?!"
      "Well I mean, you did date Blake," she said, sounding drunker than ever. How much booze did she have?
       I mean yeah, I dated that kid but um, I kinda barely knew him so there was no point. It was pretty random of her to say, too.
     "Yeah what's it to ya?" I asked.
      "Huh? Well I'm leavin you, you little..."
   She went on saying a bunch of cuss words at me. I was used to being cussed at. Everyone did it to me. Just cuz I wore leather jackets and punk boots and ripped jeans with my hair in a high ponytail while disrespectfully chewing gum. I'm a hood. And I know it.
      She drove away leaving me in peace. I finally made it up to my house. I went to my room and got my book. I kicked off my boots and flopped on the couch. I would've went to my room but there isn't much light in there so I went to the living room.
     "Where have you been?" My sister asks as she puts her hand on her head, as if she has a headache.
     "It took me a little longer to get home today,then I had expected." I explained.
    "Some idiotic,drunk girls stop you again?" She asks.
    "They always do," I respond with a smirk, putting my feet up on the coffee table.
    "Well how come you're not in your room, huh?" She interrogated me, while pushing my feet off the coffee table.
    She has always had a thing with asking me a thousand questions to make sure I was okay. But when it came to school, all she cared about was grades. I had way perfect grades. I was a grade ahead. Instead of being in eighth grade I was in ninth. It's tough being in a grade ahead because  I get shoved into lockers and such.
    " 'Cuz I wanna read," I finally responded.
    "Alright, well,  get to bed soon," she says.
     I didn't listen to her. I didn't mean to disobey her. I just got caught up in reading. She always so bossy, though. It really does annoy me. I know she loves me, but she doesn't understand me. I'm different from her. She sees me to be a perfect girl. Almost as if I were a Soc. But I'm not. I'm a Greaser. She wants to be a Soc but we can't be. We are Greasers. And we aren't proud. Except for me, I guess. Not really.
       I went to bed around one in the morning. My usual bed time is 2 in the morning. My sister knows it. I have two sisters. They are both older than me. One is seventeen the other is twenty. The one that bugs me is twenty. My cool, tuff sister is seventeen. Me,well, I'm fourteen...and kind of lousy. I used to have parents...I've said this before. One died and one walked out on us. But my father ended up dying anyway. I have a lot of back story on this. I'd rather not explain any further.
      So I woke up around, nine in the morning, which is a early for me. I usually wake up around ten maybe even eleven . I fell asleep on the couch but I guess my sister carried me to my room and put my pajamas on me cuz I wasn't wearing a leather jacket or ripped jeans anymore. I got up and walked to the bathroom. There she was. My seventeen year old sister...Kassie. She was pretty...I'm kidding myself...she was beautiful. Me, I was lousy.
     "Hey, sis," she says. Boy, do I wish I looked like her.
      "Uh, hey Kassie," I said, drowsily, "Where's Monica?"
     "She went down to the market."
     "Oh. Okay," I say, walking out of the bathroom. I had this conversation while brushing my teeth and what not. I wouldn't say I was attractive. My sisters would say I'm lucky to look the way I do. But I don't think I look too good.
      I decided to get out of the house that day. I wore a black skirt, a white tank top and a leather jacket. That's my thing. Leather jackets. No matter what. Obviously I was wearing my punk boots. What else would I wear? I wasn't too hot of the idea of smoking a weed everyday. So I would probably do it once a week. Maybe once a month. It was only if I had a worry though. Sometimes I would put one in my mouth to look tuff. Tuff and tough are two different things. Tuff is when you look cool. Tough is when you look kind of roughed up and stuff. So, I had a cigarette in my mouth and walked down the street.
      I was happy to be out of the house. But I didn't know where to go. I wish I could fly or something to get to somewhere quicker. I don't have a car. Not gonna happen until I take my drivers test. I don't think I will be taking it any time soon, though. The cigarette dangling in my mouth was annoying me, so I put it back in the pack. Maybe, I could go to the convenient store on 18th street. I decided that was a good idea. I did have three bucks on me. So why not?
     I walked in the store and looked around seeing what I could get. I looked next to me to see what there was. Suddenly, I bumped into someone.
     "Damnit..." I whispered.
     I looked up to see a boy with blue eyes and blondish, brownish hair. Psh, was he fine.
      "Sorry. You okay?" He says, helping me off the floor.
      "Yeah. You really know how to sweep a gal off her feet. Or boots." I say. I was never good at getting it in good with guys.
       He laughed. "Yeah, I guess so."
       "What's your name?" I asked. I never said I wasn't good at being slick, though.
       "Jax," he says, "what's yours?"
        "Blaire," I said, blushing.
       "Well, how's about I buy that for you since I knocked ya over?" He asked.
       "Nah, it's fine. You didn't mean to." I argued.
       "C'mon. The least I could do."
       "Alright, hot shot."
       I gave em the two packs of gum. He was really polite. Was he a Greaser, or a Soc? I couldn't really tell.
       "So where's you from," I ask, as he walked out the store with me.
        His face grew red.
         "Im a Greaser," he says, jamming his fists in his pockets, awkwardly.
         "So is I, " I say back.  The kid made me smile. He wasn't proud of being one. I could tell. That's one thing we have in common.
        "Does that mean I can see you on the East Side again?" He asked.
        "Of course," I said.
        "You wanna go down to the park?" He asks.
        I was about to agree to it. Then I realized, Monica didn't know where I was. Neither did Kassie. I had to decline. But politely. I sighed.
       "I can't. I have to get home," I said, my head facing towards the ground.
      "Aw. Well that's alright," he smiles at me, and I could see that out of the cornor of my eye with my head faced down. He picks up my head.
      "Don't be upset, doll face." He says.
       I smile. Real bright.
      "Here," I say, " Lemme see your hand."
      I took out my purple pen, and wrote down my name and number.
      It was his turn to smile now. He turned and walked away. That was one fine boy.
      I turned around and ran home. I knew Monica would be mad at me.