A year of change

The shampoo that never got home

Tick tock tick tock

That was the only sound coming from the old, grandfather clock that had accumulated enough dust for a good century already. Mother never had the will to pick up a dust cleaner or something and just make it presentable to any guests that would come through our door.

Not that we had many guests, to begin with, but that's not the point.

The soft light that hovered over me, began stuttering being lit for a good seven hours while I waited.

What was the point of waiting?

The fact was, everything was worth something. We never actually seemed to think about the worth of that something worth waiting for. 

The minutes that ticked by had finally turned into an hour, and as I convinced myself for the umpteenth time that there wouldn't be a single call, I still sat in the worn out chair, too good to be thrown away yet. At least for me.

Finally, as if the phone was tired of me having a stare down at it for seven hours straight, it started ringing. I counted up to two to make sure I wouldn't seem as some desperate nineteen-year-old before answering. 

Picking it up I was conscious of my voice not giving anything away and braved out a hello.

"Hey, it's Will."

"Oh hey, what's up?" I bit my lip and looked at the time again.

Four thirty.

"I know this is last minute, but I just called saying that I won't be able to go tonight. My sister has a recital and it's been planned for weeks already. Maybe some other time?"

Letting out a sigh, I covered the speaker before grabbing a nearby pen and slung it across the room. Glad that it made a small scratch on the wall I answered him in the sweetest way possible.

"Yeah no worries, have fun at  your sister's recital."

As if I could hear his smile through the phone he said a goodbye and we both hung up.

I was so angry that I got this phone call that was so irrelevant, and it wasn't the one I had been expecting.

Clearly, Will wasn't going to miss the opportunity to check out girls at his sister's recital and I shivered in disgust. 

With a sigh, I headed up the stairs and started getting ready for the bowling party Nora had set up. 

They say that college kids were way more mature than the average senior student actually studying to get into a decent college, but that's a big lie. 

College freshmen were the most reckless people you could find, maybe even worse than the sophomores. Take your average stereotypical kid who goes to parties, and then multiply that by forty.

I'm not actually asking for people to do the math, but you get my point.

It's as if they get excited they can finally drink without their parents watching over them. I know not every single freshman is like that, but from what I saw in my group I could predict about half of them actually getting through their first year and not having to repeat, or have any damage on their student record.

"VIOLET!" I grimaced and poked my head out of my bedroom door.

Mom was glaring at me, her hair dishevelled and a towel wrapped around her waist...

Oh

As I made my way towards her, she widened her eyes and threw the empty bottle of shampoo at my face.