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Jane fiddled with her navy, patterned circle skirt. It was starchy and uncomfortable but Yvonne insisted that she wore nicer clothes to school. Taking a good look at herself in the mirror she smiles at her reflection. Dropping it before going back and changing her maroon sweater to a yellow one.
"If you don' come 'ere and eat somethin' you're not eating until lunchtime!" At the sound of Yvonne's commanding tone, Jane threw her tattered copy of Charlotte's Web into her book bag and ran downstairs. Her parents were already sitting at the table, Alan looked exhausted. His eyes were dark and sunk in, his coffee had about enough sugar in it to cause diabetes. The thing Jane noticed was how his eyes dragged across the newest edition of the paper.
"Good morning, sweetie." Jane leaned down so her mother could kiss her on the cheek before taking a seat next to her father.
"Good morning," Jane said finally, setting her bag on the floor next to her. Contrary to the belief of her friend, Jane was a morning person. She enjoyed the quietness of the sunrise and the lack of people that stood around in the streets. Large crowds made her anxious and she was never a people person. She preferred to keep to herself in her little bubble, except for adults. She quite enjoyed a civilized conversation about politics or economic welfare. This could also be the reason she only had one friend.
Yvonne placed a bowl of Frosted Flakes in front of the young girl who nodded thanks and the small family ate in comfortable silence. When Jane finished she kissed both parents and Yvonne goodbye and she headed off to school. The school was a short walk, a couple of blocks opposite of the auto shop. She had been walking for five minutes, doing her usual routine. She was saying her greeting and good mornings to the neighbors when she heard shouting. Immediately, she turned to the direction of the noise and followed. Her eyes widened as she saw the source of the racket.
"Damien, what the Hell are you doing?!" She yelled. The boy straightened himself at the sound of her voice. A light blush dusted his cheeks but he didn't let go of the colored child's collar.
"You obtuse blunderbuss are you deaf?! Let the poor kid go!" Snapping out of his trance, Damien gave the fuming blonde a slick smile. Jane and Damien had known each other for a long while, his mother Angela was in the book club that Wilma hosted. He was hopelessly in love with Jane. At the very mention of Damien, Jane filled with abhorrence. Needless to say, their relationship was one-sided.
"Come on doll, I'm just teaching him a lesson. When I'm done I'll walk you to school." Jane scoffed and faked a smile.
"I have perfectly good legs and can walk myself, however, if you don't let that boy go in the next three seconds you won't be able to say the same thing about yourself." Damien contemplated her offer trying to find a way around it. Jane, though angry, offered a sorry look to the boy in Damien's grasp. He couldn't have been more than seven or eight, the same age as Officer Brandon's baby girl but that wasn't what irked Jane the most. It was why Damien was beating the child up.
