Rock Me Softly

Watch Out For The One With The Sinful Body

“Miss. Carter… Miss. Carter… Miss. Carter!” My head shot up from my desk like a bullet when my Chemistry teacher’s angry voice jolted me from my sleep.

            Quiet giggles filled the classroom and I blushed, sinking lower in my seat as I tried to hide my face behind my light brown hair.   

“Glad you could join us, Miss. Carter. Please try not to drool anymore on my desk.” Mr. Johnson said as he put his back towards me and finished the significant equation on the board.

I sighed and put my hand under my chin, forcing my eyes to stay open.

I didn’t get to bed until a little after twelve and I didn’t go to sleep until three in the morning, so safe to say I was struggling this morning.

When my alarm clock had screamed at me, I slung the covers off, ran over to the alarm and slammed it across the room. I’m not a morning person.

I am happy (not really) to report that the clock still worked perfectly fine.

After that, I had jumped in the shower and threw on my clothes, went down to the kitchen, grabbed my house key, and walked out the door. I’m sure the boys would know where I was, which is why I didn’t bother leaving them a note.

I walked to school like a zombie. I had to walk and extra two blocks than I originally would since I now started walking from a new residence. It wasn’t so bad, until a car drove by and ran into a puddle, splashing dirty street water all over me and my backpack.

When I arrived at school I waked straight towards the girl’s bathroom and took off my backpack, holding it under the hand dyer. After that was done, I got under it myself and somewhat dried my hair.

Never underestimate the power of a school’s hand dyer.

When I rose up from the dryer and looked in the mirror, I screamed and jumped back.

No longer was my hair the sleek, straight as I was used to seeing every day. But it looked like something Lady Gaga would style her hair for a show.

I looked at it in pity as I tried to run my fingers through the rat’s nest, but no such luck, I just made it worse.

So here I am at school, with my clothes drenched, my backpack shriveled up and crinkly, and my hair sprouting its own satellite signal.

I jumped when the bell rang, signally for next period. People stood all around me, gathering their things and I set there until they cleared out a little. I learnt a long time ago to stay clear of crowds if you’re short.

“Callie, may I have a word?” Mr. Johnson called. I looked at him and nodded before gathering my things and silently making my way to the front of the class.

“Yes, Mr. Johnson?” I said as I stood in front of his desk. He looked at me from below the rim of his glasses and said, “You’ve missed all week last week.”