Second chapter! I know it isn't as exciting as it could be, but so far I only know the ending, so we'll just see how the middle turns out. (:
As I got on the bus, I noticed the sky was dark. Not like, just a little bit of storm cloud gray, but almost pitch black. It's almost September, and we don't even get skies like this in April. I stared at the sky, and it seemed to scorn me with a ground shaking rumble. Then lightning struck a few times, and a couple of the little kids on the bus began to scream. Their older siblings comforted them, but I just stared at the sky. It was so strange how the thunder seemed to be angry with me.
The bus pulled into the parking lot, and I was one of the only kids who got off, because the bus served a few school districts. Everyone stared at me like a convict walking into their trial for brutally murdering kittens. I just walked forward and ignored their stares.
When I walked into the school, the first thing that struck me was the bright colors. Bright yellows covered the walls and the chairs were all neon shades. It definitely contrasted with the kids who walked through the halls. Most had piercings, a few had blue hair. Everyone had the same look glum I hate my life look on their face. Since it was my first day, I walked into the sky blue painted office. The secretary was an older woman that had a smile on her face that was obviously fake. I walked up to her and said, "Um, I'm new and I need my schedule." She smiled at me and said in a falsetto voice, "Sure sweetie, what's your name?" I stared at the posters of pop singers and movie stars saying things like, stay in school kids! And Don't do drugs, be successful! "Cassandra Ramoya," I said. She handed my schedule. "Have a great day, sweetheart," she said in her fake voice. I started to walk out of the office, reading my schedule. 1st period, Geometry I. 2nd period, Girl's PE. 3rd period, Chemistry I. 4th period, American History. 5th period, Intro to Creative Writing. 6th period, Beginning Girl's Treble Chorus. 7th period, Greek Mythology. Everything looked right, except my 7th period. I turned around and walked back over to Mrs. I'msohappybecauseI'mpaidtobe.
"I have a mistake on my schedule," I said, tapping the sheet of paper, "I didn't sign up for Greek Mythology. I've never even taken it in my life." The secretary frowned at me and rolled her eyes, something I didn't think she could do without getting fired. "Listen, I'm not in charge of schedules. Just take the class, the teacher's a real pushover anyway," she said. I walked out of the room without another word.
I went through the day managing to not talk to anyone. Geometry and gym were hell, but chemistry wasn't that bad. American history was boring. Chorus and creative writing weren't too bad. After 6th period let out, I walked to my locker to go grab my Greek Mythology textbook.
I tried to remember my locker combination, and I couldn't. I looked at my schedule, but I couldn't read it. I hated having dyslexia. I tried my best to read it to no avail.
As I was banging on my locker trying to get it to work, a kid with curly dark hair that was on crutches limped up to me. "Hey there. You're the new kid, right? Cassandra, is it?" I narrowed my eyes at the guy. "Cassie," I said. "Nice name. I'm Grover. What do you have next period?" he asked. "Um, Greek Mythology," I said, still suspicious about this guy. Grover grinned and said, "Me too. You wanna walk there together?" Then he noticed me banging on my locker. "Hey, I can open that for you. Dyslexia I'm guessing? Probably ADHD?"
I narrowed my eyes at him again. "Yeah…how did you know that?"
"Lucky guess," he said, and he miraculously opened my locker. He handed me my textbook then shut my locker. "Let's go," he said, leading me to what I thought was going to be the worst class of my life.
Greek mythology was surprisingly interesting. The only thing that bothered me was that the teacher, an old man with a receding hairline and a bit of a beer gut dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that was way too formal for school, kept calling on me. And the weird part was, it was all for the same type of questions. What are demigods, how are they born, who are the Big Three, whose domain is the sea, and so on. Maybe this guy thought I liked half bloods and water, even though I showed no interest whatsoever. The bell releasing us to go home rang, and as I walked out, the kid on crutches, Grover, yelled a goodbye at me. I couldn't tell if this kid was on the welcoming committee or if he was just hitting on me in a very strange way, but it was starting to get a little bit weird.
I walked out of school and rode the bus home. The sky had lightened a little bit, but it was still dark. As soon as I looked up, the thunder and lightning rumbled a welcome to me. The rain began to pick up, and when I finally got into my apartment, I was soaked. I walked in, having no idea what hell I was about to face.
My mother stood at the counter, my two letters in her hand. She looked sober. This could not be good at all. As soon as I walked in, she looked at me. She held up the letters. "Where did you get these?" she asked her face hard. Her knuckles where white from clutching the letters so hard.
"Um, they came in the mail today," I said.
She started to get really mad, but maybe it was just because she was sober. "Who are they from?" she said, gritting her teeth.
"I don't know mother! Why is it such a big deal?" I asked.
"I told him never to contact you…"she murmured, reaching for the bottle of vodka on the counter. That made me mad.
I grabbed the bottle from her. Then something hit me. "These…these are from my father, aren't they!" I yelled. Anything that was from my father I wanted. I needed.
"Don't you dare talk about your father! He hated you! That's why he left! He would never, ever send anything to you!" she yelled, almost screaming. "And give me that bottle!"
I was mad by then. I don't care if my father hated me. This was from him. I threw the bottle to the ground. It shattered into a million little crystal pieces, and the clear liquid covered the floor. The whole room smelled of alcohol, and I thought I was going to be sick from it.
My mother stared at me. She was breathing hard and her teeth were clenched tight. She balled her fists together, then did something I never thought she would do. She slapped me across the face. We sat there staring at each other for a while, my cheek stinging.
Then my mother finally broke the silence, by saying, "Cassie, I-" I was panting now.
"Don't you dare tell me you're sorry. Or that you love me. I'm done. Done."
And with that I ran out of the house, slamming the door and not turning back.