"Hello?" He yelled. "Hello?" He said again. But it took thirty seconds before I answered. Thirty seconds he had been waiting there. Thirty seconds long I was thinking about what to say to him.
And I decided to say "Go away."
"Coming." I said to my mom, as I walked past the mirror and took a last glance at myself. I tightened my ponytail and turned around. My mom was waiting for me outside, next to the car. I put my bag on the backseat and sat in the passenger seat. "Do you think you are going to get a good grade?" My mom asked. I shrugged. "Maybe." She frowned. "But you studied well, right?" I nodded yes. "I think so." She looked at me. "Tamara, this is your most important exam! If you don't get a good grade, you will fail and won't get your diploma!" I rolled my eyes. "Can we go? You have told me this already, like sixty times, maybe?" She sighed and began to drive to school. "You know..." She said. "...your brother had put his heart and soul into this test. He knew every tiny detail by heart." I sighed loudly. "Really, mom? WHY do you ALWAYS have to compare me with HIM? I knów he is smarter than me. And better looking. And more succesful. And everything positive in the world. I KNOW I'm not. Can you PLEASE just drop me off now so I can make that goddamn test and won't have to listen to your comments on my life anymore?! Thanks." My mom went silent. "I didn't mean to..." she said. "You did." I said, and as soon as we drove onto the parkinglot I stepped out of the car, grabbed my bag and went inside, without looking back.
I opened my locker and threw my coat in it. Suddenly someone appeared next to me. "Are you ready to fuck it up?" He said. I smiled. "Never been more ready." He laughed. His voice was incredibly deep, as if it couldn't be deeper. I looked at him. His dark brown eyes looked at me, questioning. "Have you been crying?" He asked. I shrugged. "Doesn't matter." I said. He sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you that it does?" He opened his arms and I accepted the hug. His grip tightened. "Thank you." I whispered. "You deserve it." He said and he let me go again. "Let's go fuck it up." I said, and smiled.
After the test, we walked back to my house together. My mom had to work late so she hadn't been able to pick me up.
"I totally ruined it." I said and laughed, even though it was a fake laugh. I knew my mom would be extremely disappointed. "I think I did an OK job with the first and second question, but I totally ruined the rest of it." He said, making sure I noticed the sarcasm in his voice, since there were 64 questions. I laughed. "My condolences." I said. He laughed too. "Thank you, I hope my grade will rest in..." he suddenly stopped talking. I looked at him and noticed that he was looking at a girl, on the other side of the street. I looked back at him again. "Who's she?" I asked. He looked away and shook his head. "No-one, just... the sister of a good friend of mine." He said. I frowned. "What's his name?" He looked at me. "What do you mean?" "The name of your friend." I said, with a strong voice. "It's, uh, Justin, you don't know him." I nodded. "Okay then."
We walked up to my front door. "So..." he said. I didn't look at him and began to search for my keys in my bag. "...good luck with telling your mom the bad news." He finished his sentence. "Thanks." I said, emotionless. I found my keys and opened the door. He looked at me, but I turned around and went inside. "Bye." I said, and closed the door in front of his face.
'Justin.' The letters of his name were big and sloppy written on a new page in my diary. I bit on my pen and stared out of my window. The sky was turning grey and the trees were heavily moving because of the strong wind. I turned a page back. More words were scribbled all over the page. Things as 'money', 'lunch' and 'stare'. I wrote down 'sister' next to it. I got my phone out of my bag and went to Facebook. I typed in Justin and found some people with the same name, but then again, Justin was such a common name, it could be everyone! I threw my phone on my bed and let myself fall down with my face buried into my pillow. "Why do you have to make it so hard for me?" I said, my voice was soft because of the pillow. I pushed myself back up and looked in the mirror, which was all over the wall in front of me. I slapped myself in the face. "You need to be a better girlfriend..." Slap. "...There's a reason he doesn't like you anymore..." Slap. "...He deserves more than you can give him..." Slap. "...There is a reason he cheats."
