𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ! ( 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 )

chapter 2 : silent car rides and misunderstandings

we were too close to the stars- i never knew somebody like you, somebody, falling just as hard- i'd rather lose somebody then use somebody. maybe it's a blessing in disguise, i see my reflection in your eyes.
so close, so close yet so far away.

Chapter 2 : silent car rides and misunderstandings

i double checked myself in the mirror hanging on the wall, with aged white and gold details running down the sides.

my white, button up blouse was tucked softly into my dark blue skirt, which stopped at my mid thigh, and my silver tie, which was supposed to be tied around my neck, was lazily thrown over my shoulder.

my school, 'catholic academy of vancouver', had strict dress code rules written in the book, but literally no one followed them. the teachers had tried before to enforce the rules before, but soon learned that the overpowering teenagers wouldn't listen nor care.
therefore, it allowed every whore in the school to pull the skirt up as high as they wanted, to expose their fake ass cheeks they probably had done for a couple grand.

i tightened my ponytail for the last time, and smacked my lips together,
lathered in cherry lip gloss.

a car obnoxiously honked outside, on the cool november morning.
i groaned and opened my window.
the crisp autumn air hit my face and i shivered.

"hold your horses, i'm coming fuckface!!"

i yelled with laughter at the boy sitting in the black ferrari.

"'hold your horses'?!! what are you, a cowboy living in 1942? hurry up princess."

the curly haired germ screeched back.

"i have two young children living here!! curse again and i'll call the fucking police— wait."

a neighbor yelled out of her window angrily.

"uh, DITTO. millie mustn't pick up there naughty words."

finn yelled right back at her.

"FINN!!"

i threw a dirty sock out my window and watched it land in his convertible.

"fuckin disGUSTING MILLIE."

he chuckled and threw it into a bush.

"LITTERING!!"

i fake gasped and shut the window before he could respond. my light pink backpack lay on my bed, overflowing with snacks, cords, and homework. i grabbed the 200 pound bag and ran down the stairs into the kitchen, where my foster mother stood feeding her bratty son, who enjoyed throwing his food on anyone in a 6 foot range. i grabbed a granola bar from off the counter and avoided a spoonful of oatmeal being hurled at me by the 2 year old beast.

"bye angela."
i muttered to the curly haired red head in her mid thirties.

"goodbye millie. make sure you call me if anything happens, and you know the principal's phone number right? if you need help always call—"

there she goes on again, blabbering. she's really new to this whole 'parenting a teenager' thing.

i quickly wave and shut the door, before the splatter of oatmeal could hit me.