You're Not Enough

Chapter 90

A loud crash wakes me from my sleep. My eyes immediately shoot wide open. I quickly close them. It's bright in my room. I must've forgotten to close my curtains last night. I feel something cold on my stomach. I look to see what it is. I pull a pen from under myself.

I don't even remember falling asleep. I get up off my bed and look straight to the floor. I bend down and pick up my little black book. I sit it on my desk, and then I hear yet another loud crash coming from downstairs. I exit my room and walk down the stairs.

My dad is in the kitchen dressed in black slacks and a dark blue button-down shirt. He has the kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. He takes the spatula and scraps up the eggs. When he turns around, he spots me. "There she is!" he says animatedly. He places the eggs onto the plate. I walk around the island, and in front of him, the sink is full of dishes. He slides the plate to me; there's bacon, eggs, and toast on it. "Enjoy." He says with a huge smile. He's in a good mood. I don't know why.

"Where were you last night? I fell asleep around eleven, and you weren't home." I just ruined his good mood, his whole body stiffens, and he presses his lips together.

"Out." he simply says, without going into detail on where exactly out is.

I question him further. "Out where?" and take a seat in one of the island chairs.

He takes a deep breath. "I went out with some people from work.. we went out for drinks."

"Drinks? Do you really think that was a good idea?" I narrow my eyes at him. I remember the last time my mother left, he went out and got drunk. I had to skip school to take care of him. He isn't drunk now, but still. I take a bite of my bacon.

"So," he says, raising his eyebrows, changing the subject. "Are you not going to school today?" he asks. I tilt my head in confusion. "It's nine fifty," he says.

"What?" I say quickly, nearly choking on my food.

"It's nine fifty," he repeats. I swiftly hop out of my chair and run upstairs. "You're not gonna finish eating?!" I hear him yell.

...

Ugh, I can't believe I'm late. I turn my car into the school's parking lot and quickly pull into the only available space I see. I grab my book bag off the seat and hop out of the car.

As I walk towards the front doors, I look down at myself. I have on a blue hoodie and white jeans. I don't think I have ever worn these jeans before. I'm not really a white clothes person. It gets dirty too fast. These are the only clean ones I had. I need to do laundry when I get back home.

Usually, my mom does it, but, well, you know. I open the doors and walk into the school. The hallways are quiet. I think it's still first period. It should be ending soon. I walk up the stairwell and to the third floor, where my locker is at. Once I get there, I throw my bookbag in and grab my books for my morning classes. I close my locker and lock it back.

I walk back down the stairs and to the first floor where my history class is. There are only five minutes left in class, but I want to get the work I missed. I open the door. As soon as I open the door, two boys rush out. I move out the way before they can push past me. They playfully shove each other and continue down the hall. The classroom is loud and rowdy.

My eyes go to the teacher's desk. My teacher isn't here; instead, there's a sub. He's sitting there with his headphones in, reading a book; I squint my eyes to see the title; it says To Kill A Mockingbird.

I've read the book numerous times. My grandmother bought it for me a month before she died. I've read it about four times since last August.

The sub isn't paying any attention to what is going on in the class. I slowly walk into the room.