"KYLIE!"
I jumped out of bed. Believe me, when your screaming mom er... screams at you, you would too. Especially if her voice reaches 180 decibels.
"Coming!" I called down the stairs as I put on my fluffy fast food slippers.
"What's for breakfast?" I grunted.
Now, as this kind of stuff may have some, how should I place it, minor crimes that involves theft and assault, let me introduce myself.
As my mom's trademark yell might have implied, my first name is Kylie. The woman over there wiping the table is my mom, Katarina Anderson. Yeah, my full name is Kylie Anderson, for the slow people out there.
I'm turning 14 next next next next month, so you could say I'm 13 years old. Just to simplify the facts for the slow-minded once again. I have short brown hair and black eyes, no need to go into specifics, and I wear glasses.
For our occasional stereotype, I'm not a hipster or a nerd or whatever else you can stereotype a glass-bearing half-Asian girl with. Yeah, Mom's from the Philippines. I have no idea who my dad is though.
Not that I care.
As we have cleared the pen-pal-like personal introduction, Mom was wiping the pale rings off the table, which is due to my refusal to use coasters and placemats.
So let's say I'm a lazyass girl, but school is wringing my guts out. Try doing thirty math problems, a research paper on Napoleon Bonaparte and a diorama of a grassland ecosystem with access to the Internet. I basically just listed the recipe for pure procrastination.
I ran up the stairs. Okay, I didn't, but I didn't have a single bite of breakfast today. Stop blaming me.
It was always the same every morning. Bath, whoops, slip again, clothes, where is my other sock?, screw that, flip flops, attemp to search for comb, use fingers instead, a bit of water, a "Don't forget your lunch!" courtesy of Mom, button up jeans, look for bag, still looking for it, find it under the bed, run outside, miss the bus, walk to school and get chewed out for being late.
Shut up. It happened today almost word for word, or maybe I'm just exaggerating. The point is, I missed the bus and it's pouring outside. I'm paranoid of any lightning showing up right above me, so there is no way I'll go out now.
I have a long history with lightning.
"You're late, Kyle."
I turned around to find Mom holding a feather duster aloft with an eyebrow raised at me.
"It's raining." I informed her.
"As much as that is obvious. The question is, WHY are you late?"
Goint smartass mode I said, "Technically, stating the current condition of the weather at times like this, or rather, QUESTIONS like that, is legible because of certain things that I wish not to mention for the sake of everybody under the roof of our house. Which means the two of us."
She sighed defeatedly. "Well said. Get back to your room."
Cool. An excuse to sleep in.
