Ally's POV:
If anyone had told me earlier just how my life was about to change that night in the worst way imaginable, I would have laughed and asked where Ashton Kutcher was secretly hiding. It was just that ridiculous, and I was not one to buy into such nonsense. Looking back now, there were never any real signs that would've tipped me off.
The sun had not yet risen, and my alarm clock went off at exactly 6 a.m. just as it did every other weekday. Today was Monday, and it was my least favorite day. I already had enough trouble rousing myself from the warmth and comfort of my bed every morning as it was. But on Mondays, it was even worse. I groaned and prepared for my guardians to come downstairs and to turn on the lights in order to wake all the kids up (there were 4 of us), as was the routine.
It made me feel a bit odd that I still got woken up by my guardians since I was 17. In fact, I would be turning 18 in just a few short months. It was unreal, and I seriously couldn't believe I was already approaching legal adulthood. I had dreamed about this moment for years, and it always seemed like such a foreign, distant time that I tended to want it more than anything.
I heard the doorknob turn and I prepared myself for the retched light that was about to blind me. The light flickers on, and my brother pops his head in, giving me a curious glance. (I'm always up at this time, but I usually pretend to sleep while he turns the light on.) "Time to get up, buttholes." He says before he shuts the door. I groan, as does my room mate, Trish. Trish is quite possibly the strangest best friend a girl could have.
When people glanced at us, they often wondered how we were friends, since we looked like exact opposites. Trish was shorter than me with extremely curly hair, and a love for clothing, scheming, and anything girly. I, on the other hand looked sort of goth because of how I did my makeup. Often enough people whispered in the halls about me and commented on my wardrobe. I failed to understand what was so damn odd about it. I wore normal clothing. I had no definite style, I was just average.
Trish had been my best friend for 14 years, and we were still going strong. Sure, we got on each other's nerves all the time and we had our share of arguments. But somehow we completed each other, and I couldn't ask for a better best friend.
"Can we bring the weekend back? I wasn't ready." I say groggily, as I allow my eyes to adjust to the yellow light that is intruding our room.
"No, we can't bring back the weekend. But I really wish we could." Trish agrees dryly as she glances down at her phone.
"Messaging Dez already Trish?" I ask with a waggle of my eyebrows.
Trish rolls her eyes at me and sends me a glare. "Shut up. I will kill you."
"It's ok Trish. We all know you have a lady boner for Dez. You don't have to deny it anymore."
"That's it. We are no longer best friends." Trish huffs, sending me a look of pure irritation.
Unfortunately for her, I know her better than anyone else, and I can tell she is just joking around.
"Trish, you know damn well you not allowed to stop being my best friend. I'll have to kill you. You, my bitch, know too much."
"As do you Ally, as do you. Now get your lazy ass up for school." She says, tossing a pillow at me.
I groan and reluctantly sit up. I didn't feel like leaving this bed. Was it too late to play sick? Never mind, I hated missing school anyway. I pull the covers off of me, grab my makeup, and shuffle my way towards the bathroom. The problem with the bathroom is that there are 4 kids that use it, and we can be a bit... Greedy when it comes to sharing. That's why I always make an effort to get in there before anyone else. That way I can hog the mirror all I want.
I do my morning routine and my makeup within about 30 minutes. Today I decide to go with gold and black eyeshadow instead of my usual liquid eyeliner. Why not play with my makeup every now and then? Normally the eyeliner is the hardest part for me because I'm always messing up on one side. But today luck appears to be on my side, because I actually make it look like I graduated from preschool makeup to 4th grade. Baby steps guys.
Now comes the truly tedious part of getting ready... Picking out clothing. I have the fashion sense of a chameleon in a bag of skittles, so I tend to stick with plain clothing. But today I decided I was going to try to look good because I had looked rather sloppy the week before. I decided to wear my favorite pair of jeans with a cute ruffle shirt and pink flowered sandals.
"Well don't you look cute today." Trish comments sarcastically, eyeing me up and down with a smile on her lips. "Are you getting all fancy for Lobsterboy?"
I fake gag and toss her pillow back at her, hitting her square in the face. "I have no desire for Lobsterboy's vagina, thank you very much." I comment before I head upstairs to drink my first cup of coffee. Lobsterboy is my ex-boyfriend who is rather thirsty. His real name is Jake, but luck isn't really on his side in the looks department because his face is always red, and I think he resembles a lobster. Hence the name Lobsterboy. He's already asked me twice if I would take his virginity, which kind of freaks me out.
If we were being quite honest here, I would rather chew off my own foot than have anything to do with Lobsterboy. The funny thing was, Lobsterboy and I had been friends for almost 4 years, and we talked almost everyday, until I transferred to his school, Marino High. He ceased all conversation with me after the first week of school and went out of his way to avoid me. I had long since stopped caring about his existence.
I did my coffee before I glanced at the clock and noted that it was almost 7:40. It was about time to leave. I just hoped that Trish was actually ready on time for a change and I wouldn't have to wait around while she found her shoes or brushed her teeth. She was such a procrastinator, and I hated the fact that she waited till the last minute to do almost anything. It was a constant thorn in my side.
Today must've been a rare day though because Trish was actually ready and she gave me a smile as she turned her attention back to the news. Trish enjoyed watching the news in the mornings, and I failed to understand where the entertainment value was in watching the news. There was also the fact that I hated almost everyone and viewed the race of homo sapiens as idiots. That was a very strong contributor to my intense dislike for the news.
"Ready to go?" I ask her as I grab my bag and double check to make sure I have my wallet. Knowing my luck I'd forget it and not be allowed off-campus at lunch. And if there was one thing I refused to do, it was to stay on campus at lunch. Marino High's rules state that freshman are not allowed to go off at lunch which means that everyone else has to bring i.d.'s to prove that we were sophomores and up. I hated it.
"Yeah, just a sec." She says as she begins tying her shoes. Well, at least we were leaving before 7:50 today which was what I called progress. I leave the room and wait by the front door picking at my fingernails impatiently. If there was one specific trade I lacked besides empathy, coordination, or a social nature, it was patience. I literally had the patience of a toddler, and I could be just as freaking savage. Trish finally emerges from our room, eyes glued to her phone. I swear to God it was just a matter of time before Dez and Trish realized how much they liked each other and finally made things official.
"Bye!" I yell as I leave the warmth of our house, and I glance behind me to make sure that Trish is actually coming. To my relief, she's right behind me as she locks the door and we begin to head towards school.
School
skoÍžol/
noun
1. Seven Crappy Hours of Our Lives.
That was the very definition of School. The only reason I even bothered to attend school was because I got to see my friends. Also because it was required to attend the mental institution known as "school." Mostly the latter. The walk to school wasn't terribly eventful, and neither was first period, second period, or third period. Fourth period I actually secretly enjoyed for one reason, and one reason alone. I got to see my friends Raven and Clara. Once again, they were complete contrasts to me, as well as to each other.
I couldn't have picked two very different people to be friends with in art class. I despised art class for the simple fact that my art teacher was a straight up bitch who hated me for no reason at all. She had even gone to the extent of telling me I was a crappy artist. That did wonders for my self-esteem I tell you. I felt so much more confident about it now, thanks to Ms. Smith.
Raven's style matched her name to a T. Raven was a lot like me personality-wise because we both hated just about everybody, and we liked the same music. She had a septum piercing, red streaks throughout her black hair, and an olive skin tone. Her septum piercing was actually the first thing to make any sort of impression on me. I remember that on my second day of school I had just known that somehow Raven and I would become friends. It was sort of inevitable. We also got along pretty well because we loved pissing off Wannabe Emo Boy, or Biblethumper as we liked to call him.
He sat at the table next to ours, had a terrible habit of constantly looking over at us, and he was a dick. He loved to preach about God and all that stuff, and it really annoyed me. I had no problem with other people expressing their opinions or having a religion that I didn't share, but I did not appreciate having the bible shoved down my throat. We had an inside joke that because of the way he looked (dark brown hair, eyes that looked like they were at least rimmed with eyeliner, and a goatee) that he went home after school and wrote sappy, depressing poetry while drinking black coffee. I wasn't saying I hated him... But if he was on fire and I had a bucket of water, I'd drink the water.
Clara on the other hand more so resembles a prep, but we got along. She was a very nice girl with a brighter outlook on life, and a disregard for the rules. She didn't care what anyone else thought, and she always shared her food with me, so I liked the fact that she breathed. She had dark curly hair, brown eyes, and really long eyelashes. She was of Spanish decent, and she was one of the most beautiful people I knew.
As usual I was the first one into the art room because my third period class was out in this building too. This meant I had more awkward small talk to look forward to with Ms. Smith. She often engaged in conversation with me while I waited for my table-mates to show up, and I tried to waste as much time as I could before entering the classroom each and every morning.
But, staying out in the hallway also presented a problem, because not only did Lobsterboy have 4th period right across the hall from me, but Austin was in my art class. Austin was an odd fella, and I often failed to understand how we were friends. Or maybe friends was too large of a step. I'd say we were more acquaintances than anything.
He often talked to me on Facebook in the evenings, but we didn't really talk at school. He was popular, and he was a jock. By default, that would normally make me hate him. But for some reason I was ok with him. He was a nice enough guy for the most part, and he had a sense of humor. He also didn't judge, which I greatly appreciated.
It was always odd seeing him for some reason. It was funny, because he flirted with me a lot, and I flirted back. But outside of the web, we acted as if we merely tolerated each other. It kind of made me sad. Sometimes when he thought I wasn't paying attention, I would see him staring at me. It made me feel really self-conscious, and it also confused the hell out of me. He had once told me he wanted to date after high school and that whoever he dated would be a bad ass athlete. He wanted someone who woke up everyday and trained to compete.
I was a stark contrast to that fantasy. Ally Dawson did not exercise for anything besides food, I had the coordination of a hammered sailor, and I hated all the people who played sports, with the exception of Austin. Also, I was the least popular person I knew, and I tended to be a bitch to people in a joking manner. At least, I hoped they knew I was joking.
Art was once again a pain in my ass, and I was more than relieved that lunch was beginning shortly (The bell would ring in 5 minutes. Clara, Raven, and I tended to cut class early every single day because we all had a mutual detestment for that class.) I laughed with them as we entered the school and I took off for lunch before the halls got terribly crowded.
If I had to pick my least favorite thing about attending Marino High it was that people here apparently had not yet fully grasped the concept of walking. It made me want to shove my foot up their asses because they tended to walk at about a -2 mile pace per hour. It made my day when I got stuck behind slow people. I mean, it wasn't like I had 4 minutes to get from one class to another or anything, so I was pleased that they all took their own sweet time with migrating through the halls.
I was headed towards my eight hour class, which happened to be English, and my favorite class by far. For one thing, it was an easy class to pass, and for two, my teacher was a really easy-going lady, even if she did threaten to take away any cellphone she spotted. Her room was a no cellphone zone, but we all ignored it and used her phones anyway.
I actually liked my tablemates as well. To my left sat Austin, which kind of annoyed me at times, but he was a pretty cool guy. To my left sat Marissa, who was a pretty laid back girl. She had a wicked sense of humor and she was the type of girl who would give the shirt off of her back to anyone in need. She had long dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and she always wore some tie dyed article of clothing.
And to Marissa's left sat Pedro. Pedro was a funny kid, even if he did have some unknown problem with me. Pedro and Austin were pretty good friends, and they were always bickering, or throwing things at each other. I talked to Marissa more than anyone at the table, but Marissa had a pretty bad habit of ditching this class, so there was a good chance I would be the only girl at the table today. It wasn't something new.
Austin and Pedro were talking about the guys on his football team, and I tuned out their conversation. I didn't give even half a fuck about football, and I was usually lost within the first five minutes of their conversations anyway. When I tuned back in, they were talking about some kid named Dallas Johnson.
"Yeah dude. I hate that kid. He comes over to my house, eats all my food, leaves, and then tells everyone he had a miserable time." Austin says to a smirking Pedro.
"Maybe I should do that. What food do you have at your house?"
"Well, I live in a non-Mexican neighborhood, so all of my food is probably food that you're not accustomed to. If you come over, you're going to have to tone down on being Mexican, or I'll get kicked out of the neighborhood." Austin jokes, which leads them into another argument over whether Pedro is legally allowed in the United States or not. (Pedro and Austin had discussions like this just about every English class.)
I smiled just as Mrs. Barry began talking. I glanced up at the clock and noted that sadly, only a minute had gone by since I last looked at the clock. Time seemed to go so slow. I'd say this was when the cursing hour truly began.