"Oh crap!" I yelled, rolling off the bed and landing on the floor with a thud. Groaning, I hastily got up and began to fumble around my room, trying to accomplish everything I usually did in the mornings. If I hadn't overslept, my morning wouldn't have been so hectic.
But I did oversleep.
I quickly pulled on clothes I blindingly grabbed from the closet and brushed my teeth. Not even bothering to comb my hair, putting it up in a messy bun. I never really did anything with my hair.
"Bye, Charlie!" I screamed, grabbing my bag. I slung it over my shoulder and ran out of the house and I continued to do so till I found myself leaning over the school wall and panting heavily. I was pretty sure Mrs. Walker had cursed at me during my run. Beads of sweat were already forming on my forehead and I wiped them off with the back of my hand, walking up the steps.
I had missed first period.
Groaning again, I raced to my second class, which had, unfortunately, already begun. I opened the class door and cursed it for the squeaking it caused. I stepped into the classroom and heads whirled to look at me.
I blushed and cleared my throat. "Sorry I'm late!"
The teacher did not look amused. Unfortunately for me, it was one of my grumpiest teachers. Ms. Fields absolutely hated me but I didn't take it seriously because she basically hated everyone.
"Aubrey Dawson," she said, her voice cold. "You're late."
No kidding.
"I-I know," I said. "I'm sorry."
She gestured for me to sit down and I basically rushed to my seat. Amber glanced at me and sent me a flat look.
"You look horrid."
I rolled my eyes. "Do you have a tissue?"
"Yeah. Goodness, you're sweating so much."
I took the tissue and began to wipe off the sweat off of my face and neck. I scrunched up my nose. "I'll sweat as much as I want, thank you very much."
"You're not going to lecture me again, are you?" she asked, a sour look on her face.
"Lucky for you, no," I said. "I'll probably do it later."
"Yeah, don't do that," Amber answered. "I am not about to have you scream in my face and lecture me about these issues. I've experienced that one too many times."
I opened my mouth to retort but Ms. Fields' icy voice cut me off. I blushed again and shifted in my seat. She glared at Amber and I with such a ferocious look on her face. "McCann, Dawson, do you have anything do you want to say? Don't let us interrupt you."
"We have nothing to say, Ms. Fields," Amber calmly answered.
"You don't? Good. I hope you also don't have plans after school because you have detention," she gave us a sweet smile and then continued to lecture her class about, well, whatever she was talking about.
I rubbed my temples and sighed.
"Oh my goodness," I cried. "Detention? This is my first time getting detention! I don't know what to do! What if this damages my perfect attendance record? You know how serious this is! My perfect attendance record needs to stay perfect! What am I going to do?"
Tymon and Amber sat silently, each with a flat look.
"Are you...are you kidding me?" Amber snapped, her arms flailing around. "You...you got detention for talking in class! Calm down. You'll live."
"They're not sending you to some juvenile facility, you know," Tymon said and for once, Amber agreed.
I crossed my arms and glared at them. Before I could open my mouth to say something, I spotted Dylan sitting at a table in a corner. He had a book in his hands, his eyes focused on the pages. While Amber and Tymon argued, I took the chance to get up and walk over to his table.
I plopped down across from him and smiled. "Hi."
He lowered his book and glanced at me, and then continued reading. "What do you want, Beatles girl?"
"Oh, I'm fine! Thanks for asking!"
Dylan sighed and set his book down. "Hi. Now, what do you want?"
"Nothing."
"Then why are you here?"
"To keep you company! Whatcha reading there?"
He rolled his eyes and ignored me, averting his attention back to his book. I stayed quiet for a minute and fiddled with my fingers.
"I got detention."
Now that caught his attention.
He gave me an incredulous look. "What'd you get detention for? Did you drop a pencil or something?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped.
"You're a good girl, that's what."
"I am not a good girl!" Lie.
"Oh yeah? Then what did you get detention for?" he asked, his eyebrow quirking upward in amusement.
"I was talking in class..." I replied with a frown.
"Oh, you rebel," Dylan teased, leaning forward.
"Why you—" I flicked a grape at him. "There is no need for that!"
He raised his hands up in defense.
I flicked another grape at him.
