The row lockers seems boring to me. I walk trough them and search for my number, which is 6966, easy to remember. The outside is just like the rest; grey and dusty. But when I open it, it's all red and fluffy. A picture falls out. I bend over and some boys are whistling a familiar tune. I grab the photo and turn around. Before I can blink, Chris presses a long, wet kiss on my mouth. I don't think he's a good kisser, but I pull him closer to me and kiss him back. Chris ends our kiss, while the guys behind him, also known as his 'friends', keep clapping and yelling 'I'm hot'. "Hey, beautiful." He says, with his slow, deep voice. I like him calling me that. I like him kissing me, but I don't love him. I don't know what love is, but this is not. He calls me 'chick' and that is prove enough. "Hi," I say, as flirty as possible.
I know, it's shallowly and cliché, the cheerleader dating the quarterback, while everybody knows it's only because they have to take their status to a higher level, and maybe it is. It will be a matter of time before I break up with him. He kisses me again, passionate. When he lets go of me, something I whished for during the entire kiss, he leans against the lockers and says; "I'm going to miss you, babe." Of course he didn't meant a single word. Even before I can take me suitcases, he probably made out with another cheerleader. Chris is a year lower than me. That means I am going leave him by going to college this year. It's something with biology, the only class where I'm good at. And Greek, by the way, which is wonderful because I'm as dyslectic as a frog. "I totally going to miss you." The end of my sentence goes a tune higher, which is meant to be sexy, and I pinch one hand in his massive cortex, full of muscles. When he kisses me for the thousandths time this day, his hand gets under me cheerleaders tank top. A herd of geeks walks thought the hallway and I see them hold their pace in the corner of my eye. I inner sigh as the keep standing in front of us, pushing their glasses closer to their glabellas or sudden very busy with the wonderful floor. However, the all look embarrassed. Why? I have the right to do this in public whenever I feel like. It's none of their business. Soon, I get so irritated, I end our kiss and take Chris' hand out of my shirt. I turn around and snap; "What?" The group shrinks like one person. I roll my eyes. I take my lipstick from my locker and put it on my already bright red lips. There is a mirror in the door of my locker, but I won't need it, because I am an expert in putting lipstick on. I take out the gum I always have in my mouth, put it on the locker door and stick the photo to it, which is still in my hand. Two bright white pigeons stare at me. They are mine, I love pigeons. I take a new gum and turn around again. to my chagrin, the crowd of geeks is still there. "What?!" I snap. One of them is brave enough to open his mouth right in front of me. "You… You are… standing in front of her locker." A fragile boy points to a girl who is the perfect stereotype of a geek. Her hair is one big mess, she has a braces and glasses and she is wearing something that is at least to sizes to big for her, which is grey, of course. I bent over, so my face is close to hers. Not to close, of course, I might get ill of that sin. "Are you bear without a voice?" I ask her. I wait. She says nothing. The boy starts to talk, but I tell him to "Zip it!".
Then the girl finally opens her mouth. "Born." She says, well, whispers.
"What did you just say? I can't hear you?"
The girl swallows. I see her clear her throat and then she starts to talk again. "You said 'bear.' That's incorrect. To be born and to bear is another irregular verb. It is 'born'." I haven't listing to the lesson she just taught me, I already know it, because I've been paying attention. I am not a dumb cheerleader, just like it has to be. Come on, I'm going to college. I roll my eyes if I see Chris break his brains on that information. He has the least brains of all people I know, and I know a lot. Anyway, I was just testing the girl out. It worked. She is a lot more confident right now. I pretend I am a bitch, but secretly, I am not the worst. Then the girl realizes she is looking for her locker and she shrugs. "Excuse me." I smile as I step aside, but then change my mind and spout my lips, just like I always do.
When the bell finally rings, Chris gets his hands off of me, and I am grateful for that. "Honey…" he groans. I press a last kiss on his lips.
"I have to go." I say, innocent. I don't have to, I want to.
"But I want you to…"
Sudden, I have a inspiration. I am stupid I didn't came up with it earlier. He undoes the buttons of my red shirt with the logo of our school and kisses me again. I want to push him away, but, well, he's a quarterback. I shiver as his fingers find their way down my neck. "Chris," I say, between our lips. "Its… over." I think it's fair to play straight-forward. I hate dramatic breakups. I think he hasn't understand my words. He just keeps kissing me and keep groaning like the animal he kind of is. "Chris!" I say, as loud as his lips allow me to.
"What?" Hoe doesn't look that intelligent, with his eyes closed, and his lips still trying to reach mine. I blink a few times, looking at him. "This," I repeat, "Is a breakup." He pulls his head back and looks at me. "What?" He says again.
"Bye, Chris." to use the opportunity, I grab my jacket from the ground and close my buttons. Then, without looking at him for one more time, I close the door of the storage room we used to use to flutter.
My white Chevrolet is a fairly vehicle, but still I hate rides home. I get bored when driving cars. Beside that, I'd rather been transported than do it myself, but I don't have a choice. The roads are always the same. I don't like that. I want some alternation. Maybe me ADHD is the one to blame. I sigh. I can't sit still on my chair and tap my polished pink nails, with big red hearts in the middle, on the steering-wheel. When I finally reach my house, a bleak feeling comes over me. I ignore it. After I dumped my stuff on the floor of the hallway and screamed I was home, I walked into the garden. Half of our garden consists of cadges. In it are hundreds of pigeons. I smile while seeing them. It's sad their cadged. "Hi." I greet my father. He's looking to his white birds and looks tired. As I watch closely, I sudden realize it. He cried. "What's up?" I ask carefully. It's quiet for a while.
"Nothing… You just… Look at you, you are going to college soon." He says. I smile at him and put my arms around him. "I'll contact you every day, dad." I answer. "O, and before I forget, I need a birth certificate, can you do that for me?" I look at his sudden pale face. I wait. I have to wait very long. But then he finally takes a deep breath, and nods.
