The bell rang out loudly; raucous and imposing, but the sound also of freedom to the highschoolers.
Everyone jumped up and shoved everything into their backpacks, not caring if papers got crumpled in the process so long as it allowed them to cram out of the classroom as quickly as possible. In the rear corner of the class stood a quiet brunette, studiously putting her papers and pens away, obviously not in a rush. She shuffled her things into her messenger bag and then calmly walked out behind the crowd, her maroon eyes searching through the sea of students.
Her gait was slow; not lazy, but patient, as she walked towards the buses. She was in no hurry to be surrounded by so many people in the airless vehicle and she had someone to wait for: Her sister.
The blonde was so…attached. It wasn't a bad thing, it just-
"Ib!" A cheerful giggle was shouted in through one ear, an arm heavily laid across her shoulders as Mary joined her by her side. "There you are!" Her voice was always so sing-songy, like an upbeat melody.

Ib breathed out a half-hearted laugh. She wasn't a downer, per say, but she lacked the energy to be as enthusiastic. "Good to see you too," the brunette offered up a soft smile and adjusted her bag's shoulder strap. The pair walked towards the bus with synchronized steps.

"How were your classes?" Chimed Mary, a tilt of her head sending her wavy hair tumbling over her own shoulder.
"Fine, same as usual." The other girl shrugged smoothly. " Nothing worth repeating. How about yours?"
They hopped up the stairs to the big yellow bus, Mary reluctant to let go of her sister's shoulder but forced to do so by the tiny walkway. Ib lead the way to one of the seats in the back and took her place by the window.
"Oh!" The blonde blurted out the syllable with a grin and put her fingertip to her chin. "Well for starters, my first period teacher was gone so we had a substitute. She was really old-looking, and a couple of kids were making it difficult for her to give us our assignment. It was pretty funny because she kept yelling at them and she sounded like a frog but they wouldn't listen!" She giggled, but the expression fled in moments. "Oh," Again, that syllable, but darker. "There was this one girl in my third period. The one I always tell you about, Katie or something. She wasn't being very nice to me,"
While Mary droned on Ib leaned her head against the window. She tried to pay attention, really she did, it was just so difficult when she was drained from school and not interested in the dramatics of her sister.
Ib felt her dark red eyes droop, the voices in the background excellent white noise. Instead of falling asleep, though, she thought. She thought about Mary. The oldest memory she had that stood out was that one day they went to the museum; Yeah, an art museum. That had been it. She and Mary and Mom and Dad coming home from that portrait place seven years ago.

The moment they got home had been weird. Ib had been tired and so she went to her room, but when she walked in it wasn't like how she remembered. Come to think of it, Ib didn't know what she'd expected because she couldn't remember it being any other way, but for some reason that room with two beds and two dressers hadn't felt right. How long had that vase with its roses been there?

But she'd climbed under covers and fallen asleep just the same.
Then the next few days, weeks, even months were blurry; just full of Mary and how it had taken weeks to convince her that sleeping in the same bed with her sister wasn't necessary, months for her to throw tantrums about not wanting to move into the empty room because she "Needed to be with her sister!" and years for the blonde to finally give Ib more than a centimeter of space.

Now both girls had their separate rooms and even though Mary never really irritated her, Ib was glad for the privacy. She didn't know why, but she was, even if not much changed in their relationship. They were still as close as ever.

Just as the bus stopped at their street, Ib considered the fact that she'd never seen Mary make any decent conversation with any other students.

Mary wiggled out into the aisle and her fingers clasped around Ib's wrist, pulling the other girl out the door of the bus and down the street without a backwards glance. Was Mary still talking? Ib blinked away her current thoughts and opened her ears.
"…and then I told her that she looked ridiculous. Oh, you know, that one boy asked me for your homeroom. I didn't tell him though. You don't…" Yes, she was still blabbing. Oh well, whatever kept her happy. That girl with her bright hair and bubbly personality reminded Ib of a ray of sunlight. She kept everyone in her family happy; Mom, Dad, and Ib, and that seemed to be all that mattered.