Melissa Riley Is Suddenly Visible

chapter two

I groan, rolling over to beat my screaming alarm clock to death. God, I hate mornings.

"Rose!" I scream across the room, attempting to wake my lazy lump of a step-sister.

"What?" she snaps back in her harsh morning voice, just like she does every morning.

"Wake up," I demand, hurling a pillow at her bed. Why does her bed have to be so far away?

"NO!" she screams, making me sigh and give up. I quickly hop out of bed, ceasing the noise that is blaring from the little death box on my night stand. I grab my bathrobe and towel, rushing to beat Rose to the shower. I dash out of my room and down the hall to the upstairs bathroom, sighing in relief when i reach it safely. I lock the door, wanting to keep all possible siblings out, and hurry out of my pajamas. I hop into the shower, quickly scrubbing up and getting back out. I hastily wrap my hair in a towel, slipping on my fuzzy bathrobe, and heading back to my room to see a still immobile Rose.

"Get up," I command her, hitting her over the head that I had thrown at her earlier. I pelt her in the head a few times before she snatches the pillow from me with a whiny groan.

"I'm up, okay?" she says tiredly, standing and heading for the shower with her own towel and bathrobe in hand. I laugh at her little scene, heading over to my purple chair. I plop down into it, and I reach for the basket that Rose and I have been too lazy to put away yet. I quickly slip on my lazy, I-don't-care black sweatpants, a cotton blue t-shirt, and fuzzy socks. I throw my wet hair into a

bun on the top of my head, trapping my bangs back in a headband. I grab my phone from under my pillow and dash down the stairs in a desperate need for breakfast.

I hit the bottom stair, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I walk into the kitchen, not surprised to see my little brother Aaron already at the table munching on his cereal. I follow in what he has already done, grabbing the needed ingredients for my desired breakfast; a bowl, my soon-to-be empty cereal box, a spoon, and the milk. I hurry through breakfast, smiling at Rose as she finally manages to make it downstairs.

"Did you finish your essay that's due today?" Rose asks me.

"Yeah," I say to her, "What about you?"

"Pfft, barely. I stayed up until one in the morning getting the damn thing done" she snorts.

"I know," I tease her, "You kept me up, too, with your constant whining and having to have every light in our room on."

We drop our banter there, hurrying to be ready by ten till eight. The clock ticks down the minutes until it shows 7:50.

"Rose!" I scream up the stairs, shoving my black moccasins onto my feet and throwing on a thin jacket. I frantically run around the living room, throwing everything around, attempting to find my backpack.

"Coming!" Rose yells back just as I find my backpack under a pile of pillows and miscellaneous shoes.

"Go go go!" I yell as we run out the door and to Rose's car. We hop in and she starts the car, a swarm of warm air hitting our faces and the local radio station filling our ears at an ungodly volume.

Once we reach the school, Rose rips the key out of the ignition, killing the car. We run into the school, rather awkwardly I might add, due to the backpacks weighing us down.

"Bye!" I call to Rose as we seperate, both headed for first period. I run to the magazine's computer lab, slipping into my little desk just as the bell rings.

"Melissa!" Paige yells for me, "Have you edited those articles for me?"

"Um . . ." I dig through my series of never-ending folders, "yeah. They're right here."

I hand her a stack of articles I had edited over the past two days. Kids in the school, or even people that work for the paper with me, write and submit articles daily. They are then given to me to find and fix the grammar and spelling because my school is full of idiots. Woo hoo.

"Thanks," Paige gives me one of those tired, morning smiles, that I quickly return. I sigh, flipping through the new papers that have been conveniently placed on my desk to morom-proof. I pull out my trusty ball-point pen, fixing the mistakes and wishing the class period would end already. After a series of pathetic, pointless articles from whiney, high schoolers, the bell rings.

I stand, heading for my next period, praying that the day will hurry by.

~~~~~

I slip into my back row desk of English II.

"Alright class!" Mr. Penner starts happily, "Turn in your essays!"

I open my yellow folder and panic, not seeing my essay. Weird. I know I printed it off and had it with my articles this morining.

"Uh, Mr. Penner," I say, walking to his desk, "I seemed to have left my essay at home. Could I real quickly go print of another copy?"

"Sure," my teacher says nonchalantly. I speed walk out of the room, gripping my flash drive as if it might disappear at any moment, and run into the library. I quickly type in my information, impatiently tapping my foot as I wait for my desktop to load. It makes that catchy little noise it always does, and I jam my USB into the port. It recognizes the device, allowing me to print of my essay once more. I grab the papers, log off, and head back to class.

"Thank you," Mr. Penner smiles as I hand him the still warm papers, returning his friendly smile. I sit back down, sighing in relief, and relazing for the rest of the period. I zone out the rest of the class, also out of it all through my third, fourth and fifth period, only snapping out of the tired haze when the luch bell rings, stopping the boring science lecture.

I stand, headed for the lunch room the moment the bell has rung. I make my way throught the sluggish lunch line, grabbing the hopefully edible food and looking for Rose and Chloe. I head over to them, sitting down, but freezing when I see the absolute horror in their eyes.

"What?" I ask worriedly.

"Have you seen the articles you submitted?!" Rose demands in a panic, waving around the Warrior Times like a mad woman.

"Oh, come on," I groan, "I mean I know they're bad, but-"

"No," Chloe screeches, cutting me off.

"Look," Rose says, dropping the paper down in front of my lunch tray. I sigh, picking it up and scanning over the table of contents we decided to put in for the confused dimwits. I notice nothing out of the ordinary until a title makes me choke on the bite of apple I had in my moute.

"Holy shit," I mutter, flipping to the page it tells., "No no no."

"Yes," Rose says, looking over my shoulder as my wide eyes read the articele.

SINCE YOU ASKED by Melissa Riley is slapped onto page four of the newspaper. I submitted my english essay on what I think of my peers for all of them to read. Oops.