You're Just Not My Type

You're Just Not My Type (Chapter 3)

3.

Oh well... I don't think many of my fans like this story or take the time to check it out. I know I wanted 15 votes but I am bored and wanted to continue writing this story. I hope in the future it will build some momentum much like Love in the Moonlight did. If you didn't know already this is a story about vampires... though I haven't come out right and said it, it is! I hope you like and please vote vote vote and comment! Thanks all!

<3<3<3 Bunches and Bunches

Stacy

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Beep beep beep...

"Anne! Shut that damn clock up, some of us don't have to get up so early." Natalie tried to yell as she buried her head further into her pillow, trying desperately to drowned out the sound of the alarm clock.

"Sorry." Anne jumped from bed quickly flipping the switch on the top of the small clock immediately quieting the annoying beep. As soon as she stood up straight the room began to spin a bit causing her to fall back on to her bed. "Woah." She murmured pushing her fingers into her temples. Hangovers always seem worse when she has to wake up early. Determined to beat the hangover Anne got up from the bed slowly the second time making her way over to the small refrigerator removing a Gatorade they kept just for this reason, then headed for the bathroom to retrieve her Tylenol from her medicine cabinet. She noticed she had just enough time to take a quick shower then make it over to her first class of the day, which wasn't going to help her headache. Watching hands and fingers flying through the air at rapid speeds always made any head ache ten times worse. The warm water cascading down helped soothe her throbbing head for a bit, but as soon as she turned the water off the dulled pain slowly became more painful. Anne glanced at the clock yet again sending herself in a frenzied pace, she grabbed the first clean pair of jeans and one of her many black low cut v-necks. She ran her fingers through her damp head as she snatched her books up and ran out the door.

"I know, I know, I'm late." Anne signed as she walked in to the class looking at Joe apologetically.

"It's okay, your not too late." Joe spoke out loud as he looked back down at the paper he was holding. Anne took her seat beside a girl about her age name, Bobbi Leigh, but everyone always referred to her as "B".

"Hey Anne, go to the party last night?" B asked quietly.

"Yeah, how'd you know, did you go?" Anne looked over shielding her eyes from the bright florescence lighting.

"No." B chuckled, "You look like shit! I'm assuming your hung over, the bags under your eyes give you away." B stopped her assessment of Anne's looks as Joe began his lesson that day on ASL etiquette, what was and wasn't proper to do in the presence of other people that sign. She often found these types of lessons to be the most informative, and interesting. Growing up, Anne knew a few deaf people that she went to school with, and they were always treated as if they were below everyone else, though most times they were smarter than most of their fellow class mates. She often wondered if she would use this education to just interpret for the deaf or fight for their equality in schools and better programs for them, regardless of how she used her education she knew this course study was right for her.

"Alright, I want you all to break up with your neighbor and start practicing the conversations in your books, don't forget to convey the mood of the conversation on your face even if you don't feel it you must convey how your client is feeling at that moment." Anne turned to look at B, her headache had started to go away, leaving her yet again with the dull pain remaining.

"Feeling any better?" B asked as she moved her seat closer to Anne so they could share books together.

"Yeah, a bit. I'll have to stop and grab another Gatorade before my next class but I'm sure I'll live." Anne chuckled.