Well... It's been, what, a month? More? My bad. Writers block. And exams. Yikes. This took forever to write, so, y'know, I hope y'all enjoy. And if you do, a review, follow, and/or favorite would be greatly encouraged and appreciated ;)

Heavy. Dropping. Dropping. Thud.

My head snaps back up, the center of my forehead throbbing. Snickers erupt around me as I peek up at the disapproving look from Ms. Stuart before she turns back to the blackboard.

I lightly rub at the undoubtedly red spot on my forehead, ignoring the tittering of the other students. These desks need some cushioning. Or at least a bit more of a soft material. Wood? Ouch.

Effectively awake, I manage to stay alert for the rest of the class, disregarding the remaining pairs of eyes that linger on me. Can't mind their own business.

When the bell rings, I sluggishly gather my things and stand up - without my crutch, might I add - before I get halted by the voice of Ms. Stuart.

"Miss Freed, please stay behind for a few minutes," she says from the seat that she has taken behind her desk. I make a sound of acknowledgment, walking to a chair that is positioned in front of her, tugging at the cuffs of my sleeves.

When the room is effectively vacated, Ms. Stuart looks up at me over the pair of glasses perched at the tip of her nose. "I believe that this is the third time that I have caught you sleeping in my class in the past week and a half, Miss Freed." Keyword is 'caught'. There are plenty of times that I have taken a nap and she is none the wider. She sheds her spectacles, lightly setting them down on the dark stained wood of her desk. "I have to say, I am incredibly disappointed," Ms. Stuart sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I have seen your testing grades at your old school in Chicago. You weren't a bad student."

Oh no. Great. One of these talks again. Who gives a damn if I don't do well in school? This whole "I'm disappointed" speech gets old fast, and I get enough of it from mom at home. It's ineffective. And boring. If it was something original? I'd listen. Maybe not actually listen, but I might pay a little more attention to what they were saying.

"This is a new semester, a fresh start. If you start paying attention, I'm sure that you'd be able to get caught up. I could even find you a tutor for-" yada yada yada… I stop listening. Didn't I just have this conversation with mom a little bit ago? Like, a few days ago? Total deja vu moment right now. Instead of paying attention to what Ms. Stuart is saying, I look at the board behind her, remnants of the lesson still in chalk. I focus on all of the fancy variable letters, the neatly laid out algebraic equation. I wouldn't be able to solve it. Probably. Not listening for a whole semester can do that, but I still understand some pieces of the lesson. "Are you even listening to me?"

Nope. But instead of answering her with that, I nod absently, shifting my gaze back to her. "Yeah. Yeah… um, sorry. I understand," I say as politely as possible. "I don't think that I need a tutor, Ms. Stuart, but thank you for offering." I pick up my bag that I had rested to the side of my chair and stand up again, walking out of the room. My head pounds. Why do I always get headaches at school?

Third period culinary, I take a seat at my usual station, waiting for the quiet kid that normally is my partner.

Instead of the cute little mousy girl that normally takes the seat to my left, a dark, massive body takes occupancy of the stool. Mother fu-

"Hey~"

I wonder if ignoring him will make him go away. Like a t-rex. No sudden movements and he'll be gone. Or at least I think that's a t-rex thing.

A poke into my cheek makes me snap my head to the side. I glare at the man. It's one of Pauls' buddies.

"Hey~" he repeats with a smile. The fingers on my right hand twitch minutely. When Cody pokes me? I tolerate it. I deal with the impulse to tell him to fuck off. Some random asshole does it? That seems to actually get a bit of a rise out of me. I still don't cuss him out. He seems like the type of guy that would just laugh. Probably call me cute… really, my sizing makes that a very common occurrence.

I stare blankly at him, ignoring the urge to display the fleeting bits of my temperamental flare-up. He waves a hand in front of my face.

"Anybody in there?"

I smack his hand away. "Yeah, there is. Do you need something?" Apparently, my patience is running a little thin today.

Big Mans' smile is still intact, his eyes gaining a little mischievous glint. "You bet your ass I do," he says before looking over his shoulder. I follow his gaze, finding none other than Paul Lahote, staring at us, terribly intensely, hardly even blinking. If I didn't know any better, I would say that this man thinks that if he takes his eyes off of us for one second, we'll disappear. "Definitely need something…" Big Man mumbles, turning back to me. "Why'd you reject him?"

Bold. Obnoxious. Reminds me of Cody but… worse. Much, much worse. But this intensified version of Cody doesn't have the same dork-ish charm that my friend has. What a shame.

"Because I didn't want to go out with him."

"Yeah, no duh," he rolls his eyes. "But why? You broke the poor guy's heart." He says it jokingly. Kind of. I mean, he probably is joking. If he wasn't, that'd be kind of… pathetic. I talk to the guy once and he's "heartbroken"? And it was hardly talking. It was him speaking and me trying to get the hell away in order to take a decent nap since he so rudely interrupted mine.

Heaving a large sigh, I cradle my head on one of my hands, briefly closing my eyes. "I already told him why. How is this any of your business?"

"It's my business 'cuz he's probably gonna beat my ass if I don't get a decent reason out of you."

Right, because a simple I don't want to is such a horrible reason. Plus, beating up his friend seems like a good enough reason to not want to go out with this man. But, y'know, there's gotta be some type of reasonable explanation that a girl wouldn't want to go out with one of these Oh So Hot rez boys.

"There isn't any 'decent reason' besides I just didn't want to." I don't let my mild aggravation show. My statement is firm, if not a little on the quiet and exhausted side.

But I don't think that this man understands social cues.

"Okay, sure. You just didn't want to," he says, "but are you sure that's all?"

"What else could it be?"

He tilts his head a little, considering it. Contemplating it. Thinking isn't that good of a look on him… "I was thinking that maybe you have a long-distance lover. Or- or, well, maybe he's just not your type," he pauses again. "Oh! That probably is it, right? You don't dig the whole "asshole, player, probably fucked your mom and sister and now I'm coming for you" thing, right?" This dude doesn't know how to talk a guy up. He is giving multiple more reasons than what I already had to not like Lahote. Is it even possible to make him sound like an even bigger douche?

I think about just agreeing and going with his second suggestion. If I just validate his suspicions, would he shut up? Maybe go back to sit with the asshole in question?

"Nah. I just don't want to date anyone," is what I go with. Maybe giving as little to this conversation as I can will make him shut up. Or maybe if I try and be as disinterested as possible he'll get bored and just tell Creepy Boy that he needs to just give up.

"But that's so boring," he whines instead. "I need some type of interesting backstory. Maybe something about an ex-boyfriend who completely screwed you over, or some traumatic event and you just can't live with yourself anymore." What. The Fuck. "Like, c'mon girl, you can even make something up. But make it good."

I sharpy inhale. There's a moment of silence. Big Man looks at me. Intensely.

My hands have curled into fists of their own accord. My nails dig into my palms. I feel that little flare. A little heat rising inside my chest before it is rolled over by a cool wave of calm again.

Breathe, Danny. Breathe.

Just give this prick something.

"Okay, fine, well, my girlfriend broke up with me back in the big city, so…" Hardly any details, so he can just assume that I'm a lesbian who is utterly heartbroken.

Just like I hoped, Big Man looks at me, his almost-black eyes blown wide. "Is that actually… Really? You're- oh you're… well, I mean, just… or both…?" he struggles with forming a total sentence. A huff of amusement leaves my lips. I quirk an eyebrow. It's almost challenging… I know that some people are not at all comfortable with the concept of homosexuality, and if he is anything like that then he will most likely leave me alone. And I will be thankful.

He continues to stare at me, looking dumbfounded. His mouth gapes, opening, closing, opening, closing. A small part of me wants to reach forward and just hold it close for him since his jaw doesn't seem to be working very well.

The tiniest of smirks grows on my face. Just a twitch, really. I turn back to the front of the classroom, ignoring the giant in my peripheral.

I'm rather worn out from this conversation. He's gotten me to have an almost-emotional reaction. Twice. Twice. Really, he should get an award. "Most Aggravating Man". It's fitting. If he can get me to want to slap him, then what kinds of asswhoopings has he gotten from other people? Maybe what he said about Paul beating his ass is justified. I probably would if I had that muscle mass and the temper that Cody is insistent that he has.

I would probably watch that. Paul vs. What's His Name. What is his name…? Did he introduce himself or did I forget already…? Nah… my memory isn't that bad.

Oh well.

"Sweetheart, I have so much I need to talk to you about."

I look up at Cody as he plops himself down into the seat to my left. His eyes are glimmering, an impish smile growing on his face.

One of my eyebrows gets lifted lazily. When he doesn't continue, and instead turns to the front of the lab, trying to suppress his smile, I shrug it off and put my head down again. I'm not going to even bother trying to guess what is going on with him now.

I am pleasantly surprised to be able to say that I was not bothered for the remainder of third period. Fourth period is pretty much the same. There just aren't any interruptions during biology. I'm not sure if I'm glad or not… biology sucks, but so do people…

Like now. Walking with Cody gives me a horribly unsettling feeling. What with his body vibrating with excitement. All we're doing is walking to lunch, but he manages to find something to be absolutely ecstatic about. It's weird. It makes me feel weird. It's not some infectious thing. No, instead of excited I'm just… uncomfortable. The energy rolling off of him in waves has my nerves tingle, the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. But… it's fine. He's probably just heard some type of interesting gossip.

Finally sitting down, he completely forgoes the typical niceties of at least saying hello to his other friends, and turns to me. Awesome, so all of that crazy energy is being directly focused on me.

"I heard a little somethin' somethin' earlier today~" he chirps, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

I huff out a large breath. Like I expected.

"Apparently, there were some kids in the library yesterday that overheard something very interesting."

I should've known. This was inevitable. Drama. I have been doing so good at staying out of it but then that one man comes and messes it up. Most of the things that I have had to deal with are some petty 'pale-face' comments. And I can even find those a little funny sometimes. Depends on the execution of the jab. I could probably start to score some of the jokes that some of these people make. "6 for originality," "4 for the effort". But now… well, this could open up a whole pandora's box of jealous girls, boys who think they have a chance, and just overall rumors. What a drag.

When Cody didn't get the reaction that he was hoping for (which would most likely consist of me gasping, looking shocked/horrified, and begging him to continue. As if that would happen), he continues on. "Well, I heard that a certain cult member asked a certain little white girl out on a date." My nose twitches. His flair for dramatics isn't making this much easier. And I'm not little… "Lots of talk on how she rejected him. Very big scene, you know. New girl telling one of the guys most known for his lady skills to go fuck himself? Revolutionary." I didn't exactly say that, but sure, I'll go with it.

Pursing my lips, I massage my right temple. Before I can wave away the extra embellishments he'll add to it, he decides to carry on. "You cannot understand how shocked I was. I mean, wow. You're like, kinda hot, so I kind of expected Lawhore to go after you, but I didn't think you'd actually reject him." But didn't he tell me to- "'Cuz like, all of these things that I have heard girls say about him? "Oh, he's so good in bed," "He has the biggest dick I've ever seen". Like, I get that I told you to not get involved with them, and you're not "interested" or whatever, but I totally didn't expect that you'd pass up the chance for at least a night with him."

My head tilts to the side a bit, my knuckle coming up to my lips as I pretend to consider his words. "Biggest dick, huh? Well in that case…" Though, I am sure that after what I told Big Man in culinary, even that would be considered off the table.

Cody glances behind me, his grin shrinking into a sly smirk. "Oh? Well, he seems to like that," he snickers. I turn around, confusion tingling at the base of my neck.

I almost regret turning around. Paul looks like he just won the damn lottery. Which doesn't make sense. Loud cafeteria, regular talking. How the hell could he have possibly heard anything that I said? His friends are all staring too. Some look shocked, some trying to bite back laughter. The pest from third period looks confused. I guess he really does think that I'm just a lesbian.

My eyes roll without even thinking about it.

Turning back to Cody, he's clearly getting off on all of this "excitement".

"On second thought, I'm not interested in risking catching whatever he's been collecting with all of these girls," I grumble, slouching in my seat a little.

"Oh sweetheart, you are hilarious," Cody says between laughs, face scrunched up in hilarity. When he's done laughing, he shakes his head, still smiling.

He leans forward, getting close to my ear. I tense a bit at the close proximity, but I don't back away. "That guy has some killer mood swings. He looks like he's gonna kill someone. Probably going to maul one of his buddies. They can't stop laughing at him." Oh trust me, I know. The sounds of their booming laughter is deafening.

This time I make sure that I don't turn around. Instead, I roll my eyes (again) and flick the side of his head. "Well, then I guess you better watch your back. He might go for you too," I say playfully. His eyes widen a smidge.

"Do- do you really think so?" Cody squeaks, a complete turn around from his previous lightheartedness. "Okay, yeah, no, if he does, you are going on that date. It's final. Sacrifices must be made."

I scoff.

"Please, I'm sure that you can handle a homicidal drug user."

"I don't think so... " he mutters, looking rather nervous. This man is completely overreacting. No one in their right mind would actually commit murder over something this stupid. Although, Creepy Boy doesn't exactly seem that stable… Well, I guess I'll just have to see what happens. Maybe if he gets put behind bars for assault I'll be able to live out the rest of my high school days in peace.

I lightly clap a hand on Codys' shoulder, getting a little closer to him - just a little - so that I can whisper (since I don't know how the cultists are able to hear our regular talking), "I pretty much told one of his friends that I'm gay, so don't worry Codes. He'll lose interest pretty damn quick." I straighten up again, back into my comfortable personal space.

Shocked. That's the only way to describe how Cody looks right now. His grin makes a reappearance, growing on his face bigger than before, his eyes crinkling around the edges before he starts to uncontrollably laugh.

"H-holy shit, Dan!" he cries, grasping a hand over his stomach. "You are just full of surprises!"

It takes him a while to calm down, chest still heaving from his outburst. Codes wipes underneath his eyes, collecting the moisture that had gathered. "Crap, man, just when I thought that you couldn't get any better, huh?" I make myself smile a little, shaking my head indulgently. "So, like, what exactly did you say?"

I shrug nonchalantly. "Just some stuff about how I had a girlfriend and she broke up with me."

He tilts his head, probably trying to assess the truth in my story. And for the most part, it is true. It's the first thing that came to mind and it worked perfectly, and the best lie is one that has pieces of truth in it. "So… did you actually…?"

Laughing a little, I give him a little wink, standing up and grabbing half of the sandwich that he had left on the table (too busy gossiping with me to actually eat anything). "You can decide that on your own," I say, rather amused. Why give him a definite answer when it would be so much easier for him to torture himself? Just saying 'yes' would be going too easy on him.

I'm glad that the discomfort that he was making me feel before is gone. As usual, Cody's colorful personality has provided a much-welcomed distraction. "I'll see you after school, yeah?" I walk away before he can say much else, taking a bite of the stolen sandwich.

It sounds like he shouts after me, probably desperately wanting an answer to the questions on if my girlfriend is real or fake. I can't just pass up an opportunity to mess with him.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Bouncing rubber repeatedly hits the shiny wooden flooring, multiple sounds layering over each other. Squeaking shoes, calls to teammates, the swish of nets.

I sit, head leaning against the cold, white-painted brick wall. My eyes slowly move around the gym, not closed for some much-needed sleep just in case a stray basketball were to fly at me.

Normally, I would be in the library. Head down, relaxing. But considering my run-ins with the Uley Gang, I made the decision to just spend my seventh period in the gym. Coach Hansen didn't have a problem with it, of course. He doesn't pay me much mind.

Which is why when - yet another - giant man comes over and sits by me, no one even bats an eye. My corner of the room is sectioned off with bleachers on one side and the wall on the other, so from where the coach is standing, he wouldn't be able to tell that one of his Star Students is no longer participating.

I look over to him, taking in his youthful face but then his fully developed body. It almost looks like someone photoshopped this kids' face onto the body of a man.

"Hi!" he says, his bright smile nearly enough to blind someone. "I'm Seth Clearwater."

"Hello…" I respond reproachfully, not even bothering to give my name considering that all of his buddies seem to know who I am. There's not a doubt in my mind that this kid will end up interrogating me like his other friend did. And now with the additional bits and pieces of my sexuality.

He scoots a little bit closer, almost shoulder to shoulder, and I lean to the right just a little bit to add some space between the two of us. "So… how are you?" Well, isn't he polite? Better manners than that one from earlier.

"I'm fine… you?"

"I'm great," he beams.

There's a moment of silence, accept the background sound of a bunch of teenagers running around added to it. It's kind of comfortable. For me. He looks like there are a million cogs and wheels turning inside of his head, trying to make him function well enough to carry on this conversation. I'm not about to help him. It's not to be mean. But if he's going to come up to me and try and strike up some type of a decent discussion, then he has to be the one to actually put the effort in.

"Are you really gay?" he blurts, immediately looking regretful, shrinking into himself, shoulders almost up to his ears. He's visibly cringing at that horrible starter. "I, um, I'm sorry, that sounded really rude. But- but the guys, y'know? They told me… I don't care if you are! It's great! Love is love, y'know? I get it. I'm sure that your girlfriend was a great person! I mean, well…"

I just sit there, watching him in mild amusement as he fumbles with his words. I'd definitely say that he is younger, or, if not, completely socially inept. It's almost endearing.

"I- I'll shut up now…" he mumbles, looking down to his hands.

There's a little tug at my heart at how he sounds almost defeated. The bubbly energetics that he was displaying when he first approached is gone as he just sits there with his head hanging. It was a very fast transition from adorable innocence to excruciating embarrassment.

I sigh. And apparently, I'm feeling particularly giving today, as I pat his shoulder reassuringly.

"It's okay," I say quietly. Seth looks up at me, eyes bright again, and a small smile back on his face. There's a bit of relief that flows through me that he can bounce back from that so well. I give a tiny smile, as warm as I can.

"Really? Okay, good," he breathes out, clearly comforted by my words. "Um… but, are you? Because well, I'm actually kind of… curious?" A lie. At least partially. I'm sure that he is curious, but there's most likely the pressure from his friends that is influencing him to be asking this.

"Hmm, sure."

My answer seems to confuse him. Eyebrows furrow, his lips pout a little, his head tilts to the side. There's a little stab at my heart, and it's almost like a flash of the curly-haired little girl that haunts my dreams and memories appears before my eyes. The similarities in their energies is overwhelming. I look away, taking a gathering breath and shaking my head, clearing my mind.

"'Sure?' How is that even an answer?" I turn my attention back to him at his question. A small smirk crawls up one side of my face as I shrug. Seths' expression stays the same for a few seconds before it clears and he goes back to just smiling. "Okay, well, cool. So… what's your favorite color?"

A breathy laugh vibrates through me. Seth perks up even more (if that's even possible) at the sound. "My favorite color? Really?"

The younger boy nods vigorously. "Yeah, I figured we could get to know each other? Just a little. Favorite color is a great start." He's clearly still a child at heart, no matter what age he actually is. And what's the harm in complying with his questions?

Pausing for a minute to think about it, I eventually answer with, "I guess… dark blue."

Seth snickers a little. "You guess?"

"Yup."

"Huh, okay. Well, mine is yellow." Very suitable. Bright, happy. Probably gives you a headache when there's too much of it. "Alright, now, how about you ask a question?"

Humming in acknowledgment, I think a little bit. There's not actually anything that I'd care to learn. "Um… what year are you in?"

"I'm a freshman," he says. "And I know you're a junior, right? The rest of the guys say they have classes with you."

"Keeping tabs on me, freshy?" I raise an eyebrow. They are. I know they are. But the look on his face after I say it... it's kind of adorable.

"Well… I wouldn't exactly say that…" he looks down a little bashfully, his cheeks deepening in color. "We were just… well, we didn't think you really noticed…"

"I did," I deadpan.

"Sorry… but we can't really change what we did, so, fresh start, yeah?" he cheers back up.

I eye him a little. Once he starts to fidget, looking unsure of himself, I just shrug again in indifference. I'm not going to bother giving him a definite answer. This one is nice. Reminds me of someone that I miss, but also of the nightmares that torment me. Crushing his spirits isn't something that I want… but there is so much effort and energy that would go into having an entire group of boys trying to be my friend. The one friend that I have right now is perfectly fine. Why give a group of boys the impression that I'm particularly interested in being friends? Especially a group that attracts as much attention as this one does.

Seth smiles, his mood not even touched by my kind-of answer. Perhaps he takes the noncommittal shrug as a yes. The gang doesn't seem to be filled with that many bright individuals.

"Cool, well, can I keep asking questions?"

"Was that Seth Clearwater you were walking out with?"

I raise an eyebrow, continuing to walk up to the silver car. "Yeah," is my simple response. After the round of twenty questions with Not-So-Little Clearwater, I'm lacking patience for pointless questions. He has eyes, he can see the massive man-child who was walking beside me before he separated and went to his other buddies. "He has free eighth period. Wanted to spend it with me."

Cody stares at me incredulously. "And you let him?" he shrieks in disbelief, walking to the drivers' side door from his position on the hood of the car.

"It doesn't matter," I mutter, pulling at the car handle - still locked - and giving him an irritated look.

"You're not getting into the car until you explain yourself, sweetheart," Cody says in a very motherly-scolding tone. "Fraternizing with cult members? Sleeping with one would one thing, but actually having a full-on conversation with one? Damn…"

My head drops forward, resting on the cool metal of the car. "Cody, just open the damn door."

He 'tsk's but unlocks the doors regardless, sliding in. There's no way that he's genuinely upset about any of this. There has been no hostility- actually, no, that's a lie. There has been hostility. From Lahote. To Cody. Because who the hell knows why. All of those glares and nasty looks. So there is a reason for Cody to be worried for me, but there also really isn't. These boys aren't going to do anything. But if they were, they made a smart move of making the young, sweet, and disarming one come for me.

"So, what did you and the young Clearwater talk about?"

I side-eye him, buckling myself into the seat. "It was more of him speaking. He wanted to play 20 questions or whatever, but the kid's a talker."

Codes nods as he pulls out of his space. Left turn, right turn, straight.

"What kinds of questions though?"

He's acting like a mother hen. "I don't know… just basic stuff." It should sound more like a question, but it comes out flat. I remember the color question. I believe he asked about favorite foods, drinks, maybe even a movie. Probably stuff about music too. Some of the other stuff got kind of droned out. I was close to falling asleep in the middle of our conversation. But I kept myself afloat. Barely.

Once alone, in the solitude of the quiet house, I hit a wall.

Eyelids heavy, feet dragging (with the occasional limp), I bring myself over to the couch and flop myself down after kicking my shoes off. What a day. Not enough sleeping, too much talking. I mean, it was fine, but there were still two encounters with those supposed gangsters. I should play sick tomorrow. Spend the whole day in bed… ah, shit, no, both mom and Eugene are nurses. My bullshit would be called immediately. How unfortunate.

My thoughts eventually slow down, drifting into a hazy scramble before I finally fall asleep.

Hair gets brushed from my face by a cool, gentle hand. I groan a little curling into myself to get away from the disturbance.

A soft laugh adds to said disturbance. "Rise and shine Bunny, me and 'Genie are home tonight," an amused voice says quietly.

I crack open an eye. Moms' slightly smiling face is what I'm greeted with. A dopey smile of my own grows on my face. "Good morning," I purr while stretching out like a cat.

"Well, aren't you just adorable after a nap." I look up at Eugene, leaning against the entranceway to the kitchen. I stick my tongue out at him when I see his smirk, but that just makes it grow more. "What do you ladies want to eat?"

They both look at me, hopeful, probably, to get a definite answer. I suck on my teeth a little before sitting up beside my mom and shrugging. "Anything sounds good."

Mom sighs and pats her thighs lightly, standing up and walking over to Eugene. "How about we do some spaghetti, hm?" she says, pecking him on the lips. He smiles in agreement, turning around back into the kitchen, mom following right behind.

Left alone in the dimly lit family room, post-nap bliss regressing, I recline back into the cushioning again, listening to the two adults joking around in the kitchen. Mumbles and laughs. It's a nice sound.

"Hey, Bun Bun! Come get your food!" Mom's voice breaks through the mental haze that I had gotten myself into. At her beckoning, I stand up, slowly, before sluggishly moving to join my parents at the table. "So, did anything interesting happen at school today?"

I glance up at mom, fork full of pasta halfway up to my face. "Not really," I say after thinking for a little bit. There was that stuff with Seth and his friend, but interesting? I don't know… Unusual, yeah, interesting? Not necessarily by my standards.

"Really? No new boyfriends? Or, well, girlfriends?" Eugine butts in, looking at me and smiling a little. "You only ever bring that Andrews boy over, and you insist that you're just friends…" his eyes have a little teasing glimmer in them. Why is it that parents never believe you when you say that you are just friends with a guy?

"Well, there are some guys that are stalking me," I decide to say, incredibly seriously. "I could ask one of them out. Maybe see what the inside of their basement looks like."

Eugene doesn't even blink at my kind-of joke, just smiles at what he thinks is my great sarcasm skills. That is how you know that you are too good at sarcastic comments. People start to believe that you aren't being serious when talking about boys that could potentially kidnap you. "Aw, Vivy, our little girl has gotten some fans."

Mom shakes her head, chuckling. "Of course she does, I made her," she jokes, mock arrogance written on her face. Airy laughter comes from me as I look down at my pasta. We don't get to eat dinner together all that often. When we do, it's always a fifty-fifty chance of it being either tense or being lighthearted. It normally depends on moms' mood. And how much sleep I got that day. Tonight's nice. She is in a good mood, I just woke up from a two hour- no, I think three? Yeah, three hour nap. Three hour nap for me, mom's not cranky from a bad day at work, and Eugene is feeling like he's able to relax.

The two of them start to joke around, me watching them with a tiny smile gracing my lips. I enjoy my dinner, finishing up soon enough, just as they're starting to wind down as well.

A yawn rips itself from my body, eyes crinkling and body shaking from the enormity of it. I rub my eye a little, picking up my empty plate and scooting my chair back.

"I'm gonna head upstairs," I mumble, setting my dish into the dishwasher.

"Okay sweetie," Mom says, also getting up with her and Eugene's dishes. As an afterthought, she adds, "Have you done your homework?"

"Yup." My nose twitches with my lie.

She looks at me, the "I'm disappointed but not surprised" look on her face. When I walk out of the kitchen, I roll my eyes, my back to her. If she knows that I haven't done it, why ask? I never do it. The amount of missing assignments in the grade book is most likely completely overwhelming. She should just stop asking. Save her the disappointment every time she gets the same lie. Or just the blatant truth when I just don't feel like putting up the mask that I give a shit.

Trudging into my room after getting ready for bed, I fling my bra off and gently close my door, I find a little ball of fur curled up near my pillow, barely visible in the darkness.

"Hello, baby…" I whisper, shedding my jeans and slowly climbing into bed, careful to not disturb my kitty. I lay there on my side, looking at the her tiny form. Wouldn't it be great to be a cat? Sleep all day, be taken care of. Not having to do anything but look cute. Gotta say, I'm jealous.

With those thoughts in mind, my heavy eyelids close, the comfort of my bed swallowing me up into the depths of unconciousness.