White Domicile
"I'm so mad at him", the auburn girl huffed. I looked at her, one of her eyelids was squinched in a quizzical way.
"Then why do you hang out with him?"
The scarlet autumn leaves swirled around our Converse shoes, which were halfway shrouded by the hems of our dark dusters.
"I don't know."
Chapter 1, Life
"If anything, the acne infested teen blurted, the number of balloons should be on the y-axis because it depends on the profit," and...blah, blah, blah. I shifted my dark hazel eyes to the corner of our classroom where the wall meets the ceiling. He was wrong, the profit belongs on the y axis because it depends on the number of stupid balloons sold, which is a constant numerical increase, unlike the profit. These kids were dumb, and this is an "honors class." All they knew how to do was to flirt, eat, sleep, and do what other people do, follow the crowd...just drift...like jellyfish with makeup. I longingly stared at the lock of lustrous auburn hair cascading over the forearm which was cradling my down-turned head. It didn't matter. Some day, I'd be out of this dump.
Mr. Thomas's placid blue eyes bulged as he raised his sausage-like finger. "Katie," he barked in a heavy local accent...he never called on me.
Katie looked up.
"Well, I agree with Ken because, like,..." She held her hand out as if she was holding an invisible platter, her lamp like eyes burning two olive sized holes in her assignment.
"Why?", Mr. Thomas darkly asked.
"Just...because", Katie whined.
The bell rang.
"Okay, your homework is on page 252, numbers 1, 3 and 5.", the teacher arrogantly informed his hungry class.
He clapped his Pudgy hands.
"Katie", he barked with the same local tinge.
"Do problems 1, and 3, and then come and see me for 5." He sloppily slapped his hands together again.
"Okay?", heasked boistriously, locking his chin.
"Okay, Mr. Thompson!", she sweetly exclaimed, her own long pony tail whipping her back as she skipped away to her desk.
The rapid zipping of binders, and closing and snapping was heard...the scuffling of feet...then the copious blurts of the preps. It was monotonous. I just wish they'd all shut up.