apathy (sequel to fervor)

ՁՑ | ᴍɪɴᴇ.

ՁՑ | ᴍɪɴᴇ.

I couldn't get his face out of my head. I couldn't stop seeing him. In my dreams, in the daytime..I'm afraid to go to school, for I think he might be there, waiting for me. It was taking a real toll on me. Physically and mentally, I was tired. I hadn't been sleeping, nor was I eating. I was terrified to close my eyes, because I knew I would see him. I was so afraid, that it didn't make sense. Notes didn't stop coming from him, in fact, I got even more notes. He was beginning to write me poems. For these past two and a half months, I felt like I was walking on eggshells. 

I placed my books in my locker, closing it. Brandon stood there, holding his books. He frowned at me, and I sighed. "What?" I asked him. "Your outfit." He bit his lip. "What's wrong with it?" I knew what was wrong with it, it wasn't me. I haven't been myself lately. My energy has been practically drained from all the nightmares and notes, I barely have just enough energy to go to school, then I have to set aside some for Amir, because he likes to play as soon as I get home from school. I zipped up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. 

Brandon and I made our way to our last class of the day, US Government. We were some of the first people in class, and we took our seats in the back. Today, Mr. Gibson was deciding to give us a lecture, and I could barely keep my eyes open. The one day I'm the tiredest I've ever been, he decides to give a lecture. Perfect. 

"What does politics mean to you?" Mr. Gibson asked, scanning the classroom for a hand, or a person to pick. Cindy's hand shot up, and she flipped her long, beach blonde weave over her shoulder, almost hitting me in the face. Cindy was one of the several ratchet females in the school, having bright blonde hair knowing damn well it doesn't go with their skin color. Cindy even dyed her eyebrows, so know she looked like some type of ugly animal. Mr. Gibson called on her, and Cindy smacked her gum.

"Okay..so politics..isn't that was the president is?" She questioned. She sounded absolutely stupid, and I looked at Brandon, who was chuckling to himself.

"Yes, the president is a politician, a political figure. He participates in politics." 

Cindy smacked on her gum some more, "So..what does the president do?" A few people in the class snickered, and Mr. Gibson sighed. Mr. Gibson was a white man, middle-aged, and he was going bald, day by day. His hair line was so far back, I didn't know he even had a hairline at first. He returned to giving his lecture, and I could feel myself falling asleep. I placed my head down, and Brandon tapped my shoulder. "What are you doing?" He asked me in a hushed whisper, "You know that Gibson will give you detention for that!"

I sighed, and pulled myself back up. But it was honestly no use, I had fallen asleep. The sound of the bell woke me up, and I noticed that I was the only student left. Mr. Gibson sat in front of me, raising his eyebrows at me. "Did you have a nice nap?" He asked me. I wiped my mouth, making sure that I wasn't drooling. I nodded, and he handed me a slip. "Mr. Gibson, you can't!" I stood up, watching him walk away from him. "You know the rules, Monae."

"But I have to get my so-" I stopped myself before I finished my sentence. Mr. Gibson wouldn't believe me anyway if I told him about Amir, he'd just think I'd be making up an excuse to get out of detention. "Mr. Gibson, please!" I pleaded, slinging my bag on my shoulder. "Don't beg me, Ms. August. Now go."

I sighed, heading to the library for detention. After school, the library held detention, where you sat there for however long your detention time is. Mr. Gibson's bald ass gave me detention for an hour and a half. This was first offence too, couldn't he have just given me a warning? Or be less boring? I signed in, taking a seat by one of the huge windows. I watched the buses pull off, and my phone vibrated in my bag. Pulling it out, it was Dad.