7 Days - A One Week Love

Monday

"Morning," I yawn when I enter the kitchen on the first day of my last week -like ever- of school.

And I want to go even less than I normally do. 

High School hasn't really been that "time of my life" as everyone made it out to be. Quite the opposite actually. It's been below average. 

And I can't wait for it to be over in 5 days.

Mom raises an eyebrow at my scruffy appearance but doesn't say anything as she continues to prepare my little sister's lunch, who is already sitting at our huge kitchen table eating breakfast.

"Hii!" Stephie waves and smiles with an open mouth, giving me a great insight into the mushed up toast inside of it. Yummy. 

"Close your mouth, Stephie," my mom scolds before turning to me and wishing me a good morning. 

"Excited for your last week?" she smiles and I shrug. "Excited for it to be over," I answer honestly and make my way around the counter to the coffee machine, grabbing my favourite cup out of the cupboard above. 

"Kenzie. You are going to regret it if you don't at least try to enjoy it," my dad gives his advice to the matter, sitting at the top of the table reading the morning paper, barely looking up. 

"Good Morning to you, too, Dad," I roll my eyes as he adjusts his round glasses to continue reading and Mom lightly hits my arm. "Kenzie!" she scolds me. 

I sigh and press the big-cup button on the machine, disappearing in a trance as I watch the black potion of life pour into the cup, the big blue one with the face of the cookie monster on it. 

High School was okay, I guess, not that terrible. I have my group of friends and I love them, sure, but I never caught onto the 'we are all one big family' train my year seemed to be going through especially this last year. Plus I wasn't one for extracurriculars - too much effort and too many annoying people - so I didn't really know many people in my year anyway. 

What was I supposed to miss? 

Everyone, including my parents, has been making such a fuss about 'the people!', 'the memories!' and all I could think of were the early starts and being treated like a child by teachers, forcing you to sit in a prison all day long and losing their shit if you go to get a pie from the shop across the street because you forgot your lunch. 

As if you just committed a crime and not spend 2 dollars on a mince and cheese pie. 

I couldn't wait for it to be over. 

The coffee machine beeps and I grab my cup, on my way to sit next to dad and wait for my brain to wake up. I don't understand how Steph can be so ecstatic in the mornings. She's jumping up and down in her seat, getting toast everywhere but her plate, all dressed already in her school uniform with her hair in two neat braids. 

Might be the age, I nod wisely to myself, considering she is only 8 she must have more adrenaline. I look at my dad, slumped in his chair. He always looks tired. Maybe you lose energy the older you get. Or the more boring you get... I think further, thinking of how repetitive my parents are. 

Over the last two years, I realized how their routine hasn't changed a bit since I was a kid, especially since Stephanie came along and the whole having a child and motherly controlling bit just started to repeat itself on a loop. 

"Kenzie!" I jump out of my thoughts, having been staring into my black coffee waiting for it to cool a little. Plus, I was still not quite awake. 

I look up at Mom, who's looking at me like I was either deaf or stupid. Or maybe both. 

Then I hear the frantic knock on our front door and groan. "Why do I always have to get it?" I complain, getting up and pulling my hoodie up to hide the mess on top of my head that dares call itself hair. Can you blame me that all I manage in the morning is putting on a pair of sweats next to the hoodie I sleep in before having my coffee?