I wake up, blearingly rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I look up at my alarm clock, waiting for the numbers to come into focus. When they do, I swear under my breath and jump out of bed. I dash into the bathroom just as the clock hits 8:00 AM. I'm gonna be late!
15 frantic, rushed minutes later, and I am racing out the door, toast stuffed into my mouth. My pink backpack, hurriedly slung over my shoulders, thumps my back as I sprint toward class. I almost trip over the oatmeal-beige stairs at the anterior of the school as I dash over them 3-at-a-time. I flop into the cherry-wood seat just as the school bell tolls and Chloe shrieks with laughter.
"Mari..." She manages between pearls of laughter " You have jam and butter smeared on your face, your hairs a mess, and your shirts on inside out! , can I fix Marinette's wardrobe malfunction really quick?"
My cheeks flush claret red. Ms. Bustier nods giggling into her palm, and Chloe, who is still cackling, drags my horrified self out of class and into the bathroom.
As the door slams shut behind us, Chloe turns to face me.
"First of all, finish off that toast. Oh my god Mari, what time did you even wake up? Your eyebags are huge. I'm gonna go to my locker and grab you some makeup."
I stand frozen in the icy cold bathroom, flickering fluorescent lights making my head spin. Then I wolf down my toast and peel off my jacket. I quickly reverse it, slipping it into my arms with the tag on the inside. I wipe off my face with a thin paper towel that feels like sandpaper.
Chloe comes back into the bathroom as I am splashing water onto my face, toting her makeup bag. She wipes off my face, then gets to work.
I almost fall asleep as Chloe works on my makeup. If being a nurse doesn't work out, Chloe's second passion was makeup. How long had it been? 10,15 minutes?
I snap to attention when Chloe tugs out my snarled ponytails and starts brushing out my matted rajah-blue tresses.
"I don't have time to give you new pigtails. Just leave your hair out for today, okay?"
"But ... "
Chloe knows. I always wear my pigtails. Even most nights when I'm asleep, I still keep my pigtails in. Pretty much the only time I take them out is either when I'm swimming or when I'm combing my hair. I don't care if it is "babyish." My pigtails are part of me.
But right now, I don't have time to argue.
I sigh and shrug my shoulders.
Chloe clicks her tongue as she combs through my snarled hair.
"Mari, do you ever comb your hair?"
"What do you think, Chlo?"
She giggles
"Never"
Finally, she's done, and she deems me ready. I'm wearing her lemon-zest yellow a-line dress that sits in her locker 24/7.
"Just in case"
She says.
"You never know when you might need a quick change!"
She had sounded so perky and so basic that I couldn't help responding with
"Yeah, a change of PRIORITIES!"
Which earned me a playful swat on the arm.
But now I'm grateful for Chloe's over-preparedness. God only knows what Adrien thought when I walked through that door. I must have looked like I came from an insane asylum. Come to think of it, I actually don't remember seeing him when I walked in. Then again, I hadn't remembered how to properly dress up either, so I have to doubt myself about that.
Finally, Chloe heads to her locker to put away everything. I tag along like a lost dog, wary of returning to class and having to face Adrien.
When we push open the door, everyone gawks at us. I flush, thinking that we are about to receive a scolding from . Instead, she turns a faint shade of strawberry - red and tells us to sit down so that class can continue.
I sit down and my dress fans out onto the seat. I swivel my head, taking in the fact that most of the boys are turning crimson. I frown in confusion and look down at my pale, blanche thighs.
Wait a second.
I practically squeak as I realize how revealing this dress is. I was in such a daze that I didn't realize that Chloe had made me put on a high-hemmed, sleeveless, open backed dress.
I probably look like a stripper.
The only good thing about this is probably the fact that Adrien isnt here yet.
Thank god.