"Kyle. I think maybe, it might be best if you decided to share a room with Ryan. Seeing as how my daughter will be sharing a room with Rain from now on, because you all seem to have a little problem keeping it in your pants." My mom stared her impassive 'I'm pissed at you' stare.
"Mom. Its monday we have to be at school." She glared at me. "C'mon Kyle, Ry, Ray. My mom can finish this when we get home." I started walking. "Ray don't give me any of the I didn't do anything shit." I added, knowing my best friend too well.
She groaned in annoyance. "Are you sure you want to go dressed like that?" She questioned me. I spun towards her. "I mean. The jeans have rips in them. And that shirt has a superhero on it. I'm a nerd myself. But thats a little weird, honey. And you're usually so stylish. Something you're dad gave you." She smiled. I could tell she was trying to be affectionate.
That bastard. I added in my head. She was on the fence about how to approach the subject of Jonathan. "I'm nothing like Jonathan Christopher Herondale." I hissed. "Easy, El. We need to get moving." Ryan warned me.
"Sweetie. You're a special girl. Your father loves you very much. He's made mistakes. So have I. So has Aunt Izzy. So has Uncle Simon. I know you were with him sweetie. You should know, he isn't perfect. But hes the best I can imagine you could have, for an uncle." She rubbed my hair. I swooped under her arm, to avoid a hug. I don't like affection. She should know that. I dislike it, too much like...
Well. It reminds me of something I care not to remember.
*** (AN; I so want names for my stars. lol.)
"Ms. Herondale!" Mr. Roberts snapped at me. I looked up. "What?" I yawned. I hadn't gotten a very good sleep. Note to self, although Kyle is very hot, and his chest is very nice. It is fun to lay on. Not to sleep on. My desk wasn't the most comfy thing I imagined. But Mr. Roberts maths 2 lessons got very boring. The droning of his voice had lulled me to sleep.
Not to mention, the massive hangover was not very comfy. It was only the second day of school. Not a very good way to start it, I suppose. But I don't care. Suppose I should.
"Were you listening to anything I just said, Ms. Herondale?" Mr. Roberts glared at me. I felt the all eyes in the class come to rest on me. I'd had these moments before. A short girl with white-blonde hair, and dark eyes with glittering flecks of gold. Not to mention I had the Herondale scar. And, I had my dad's golden tan, plus his thick curls. Yup. I was super weird, with curly white-blonde hair, black eyes with gold flecked throughout, and a white star outline on a warm gold tan.
I had my mom's taste for coffee. I liked it black. Completely dark. Nothing else. But I had my dad's taste in food. Not to mention I ate like him. I inhaled food, and was still thin. But, sadly, I got the short frame of my mom. I didn't get the tall frame. I guess if I had shared their height's I'd be fine. If super short and tall combined, it made average.
"Not really. I don't care. You bore me. And generally lull me to sleep. They should use you're awful monotone voice for commercials. Can I get back to my nap now?" I flung my hand loosely into the air. "Begone, peasant." I commanded.
He got flustered. "MS. HERONDALE! LEAVE NOW!" He yelled. "Don't have to yell, Mr. Roberts. It hurts my ears. You're nasal voice is too god-damned annoying to put up with."
THANKS TERRA. IT'S GOOD TO BE BACK TO WRITING FANFICTION. AND ARE YOU SHOCKED AT HER BEHAVIOR? WELL, I DIDN'T WRITE HER TO BE JACE-FREAKING-HERONDALE'S DAUGHTER FOR NOTHING. SHE IS A BAD-ASS.