Disastrous Mindsets

Isabel

"Rose I fucking swear if you don't get up here right now I will pour a bucket of ice on your head!" My moms voice ran through the tin sounding speakers of the old intercom, she put it there about a month ago so she wouldn't have to put any large extent of effort into parenting me.

"Rose goddammit at least answer me!"

God I hate that name. It's too girly for me. I mean it's not like I'm trans (not that there is anything wrong with that) or anything, I just prefer to stay gender neutral. Of course, nobody listened when I told them to call me "Ross" so, after last year I gave up. "I'll be right up mom" The sarcasm that had spent all night gathering in my throat came spilling out with my words, a slushy mix of attitude and voice cracks.

I rolled my pasty white body off the bed, onto the linoleum floor and to the mirror. The usual over-sized band shirt hung off my skinny body, barely showing any shape under the giant tent of cloth. A thick smudged line of eyeliner still remained from day before, I was about to leave the mess on my face before I remembered what I was doing today. I quickly picked up the make-up bag from my glass table and began to actually try to look good. The stark white concealer glided across the purple bags that always seemed to be left under my eyes. I covered up a few pink spots on my pale forehead and then started to re-do the eyeliner. I am terrible at any type of cosmetics so I stuck with a quick line on the bottom and top of my eye. Some blending later and I looked thoroughly similar to Pete Wentz in 2005. After letting the hair straightener heat up I quickly applied some harsh chemicals to my short grey pixie cut and continued to make it as flat as possible by inflicting heat upon it. After staring at the copious amounts of band shirts for about five minutes I slipped on my favorite, a "My Chemical Romance" tee shirt, I knew that Isabel liked them too so I figured it might help me start a conversation for once.

"THE BUS IS GOING TO BE HERE IN 5 MINUTES GET YOUR SKINNY ASS UP HERE RIGHT NOW!"

God she was classy.

"My nonexistent ass will be up in a second"

I slung the ratty old backpack over my shoulder and grabbed my sketchbook from the bed. At the sight of the drawing I had done late that night I realized why I was so goddamn exhausted. I was deep into a 'Pink Floyd and sketch all alone because you're lonely' session until early that morning.

3 am to be exact.

COFFEE!

I rushed up stairs to the kitchen where I found half a pot left. My mom had already left for work but the bus was yet to come so, I had time to dump some of the bitter brown liquid into a fairly insulated cup and call it breakfast. Just as I was sulking out of the kitchen I heard the distant roar of a school bus chugging down the mountain and sprinted for the door. As much as I hated school, it was the only place that I had a chance of talking to Isabel.

I unenthusiasticly climbed the large steps and plopped down in the first available seat. I started shuffle on my phone, emo music blared in my ears the entire way to the brick hell.

The orange vehicle pulled up to the building and I begrudgingly walked inside. The morning was like any other, get all my shit from the tiny locker, avoid the "emo fag" comments and rush to first period.

I sat down in my regular seat in the back of the room, I didn't notice the beauty next to me until she interrupted.

"Hi, I'm Isabel."

"uhh... I umm. Hi." Fuck. I'm too awkward for my own good. I had noticed Isabel as soon as I walked into school yesterday, the first day of school. As soon as she introduced herself to our homeroom class I knew I would have to get to know her. I looked down at her shirt, it was an MCR shirt, just like mine. "I umm, I like your shirt."

"Ha, you too."