To spread your wings /A Young Justice fan fic

Trouble?

Hey guys, so this story is undergoing some reconstruction as of riiiigghhtt....... Now! As of right now me and mah friend W0NDERFUL_ is fixin up some stuff, so hang in there guys! vote, comment, like, and enjoy! Thanks!
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RONNIE'S(3rd?) POV.

Rolling over on her never-made bed and staring groggily at the fluorescent clock on her bed stand, she rubs the sandy crap from her sleepy eyes.

"I swear, if that device could say something right about now, it'd probably say something like;

'It's 7:15. Don't you have to be somewhere?'"

I roll over, my back facing the clock and threw the remaining blankets that survived the restless night mostly on the floor.

But wait, I do have to be somewhere, and Ronnie my dear, you might just also be a dumb ass as well. I zipped out from beneath my blankets and stumbled helplessly to the ground, shrieking in the process as I face planted into a mountain of stench filled clothes. I didn't remember wearing those red mesh shorts recently though, so why are they-

'No,' I tell myself. 'Stay. Focused. Get ready. School."

I get up and brush myself off when I felt the familiar touch of something soft and warm behind me, gently rubbing my legs and rapping around the sides of my arms.

. Smiling and still sleepy as hell, I scratched my ginger head and looked around the room, searching for my next victim of which shall serve as today's clothes of choice.

Looking around, I just see the heaps and mounds of clothing of which I always fail to wash. Thanks to my mom, this (almost) 16 year old has to do that by her big girl self.

"Ronnie, breakfast is ready! Better get down here and eat it! Don't want to hear you whining because it's cold!"

Speak of the devil...

I could already hear here scoff from the other room.

Hurriedly, I grab up a near by pair of jeans and hop, wiggle, squeeze into the impossibly skinny denim and throw on a tank and a floral Addidas hoodie as I carefully slipped my wings through the holes modified I the back. I zipped down the dark hallway to the litted kitchen, led. By the smell of God's wonderfully given holy grail of food.

"Honey, do you want some bacon?"

Like hell I do, but than again, isn't that what people say when they don't want something? We'll in that case,

"Like heaven I do!"

My mom turns from where she stood and gives me a look. "What is that, something you American teens say now a days?" I grinned at her my biggest and shook my head, only to start spluttering all the long hair that lodge itself in my mouth. "Nah," I finally managed to say. "Just me life giver, just me."

From the corner of my eyes I could see my dad trying to hide his laughter behind the morning paper, his bald head bobbing in silent enjoyment. I walked to him, making my eyes look at something else for the time being and crossed my arm beneath my not-so-appealing boobs. They looked right now more like slightly bigger mosquito bites that lifted by an ill fitted push-up bra that had literally nothing to push.

Mom said that growing up would be like this, super slow and sluggish until one day I kinda shed my baby feathers, although she's this pretty young and gorgeous mom. Sounded to me like a case of Ugly Duckling.

Here I am all broken hearted. My looks versus hers? Hell I've only started.

I frowned at my own displeasure as my mind began to wonder...