I walked into my English class, and slumped down into the chair, late. Mrs. Leeney looked at me with a stern look, and took a step forward. "Phoebe Emerson. Late. Again. I'd like to have a talk with you after class." I put my head down, hoping to defer the curious eyes from all around the classroom. The class began, something about prepositions or... something. I drifted off to sleep, remembering the protests near my house, blaring horns for the upcoming war... it seemed. Unfortunately, our area was the hotspot for a nuclear bomb from North Decland. All of us were just praying it wouldn't come, that it wasn't true. I was torn from my sleep when I heard a door slam. I lifted my head, my eyes wide. Nobody was to be in any chairs. I looked up to the front of the classroom, and there was Mrs. Leeney, her arms crossed. I rolled my eyes, and walked over to her...
"Phoebe, you did what!" My father yelled at me. "I punched Mrs. Leeney, I told you." My father looked down at his feet, his arms crossed, expressing his disappointment. A war is coming soon and I'll be drafted... and this is how you treat me in these times. Causing problems!" He huffed. "I didn't punch you." I said, blandly. He sighed, and walked off to his bedroom. I ran up the stairs to mine, and sat on my bed. I got on my phone, about to look something up on google. Under the search bar, war, war, war articles. I stared at the screen, my father may be disappointed in me, but I am disappointed in my country. It was unsettling. None of us knew what the future may hold. I set my phone down, and got up to look out the window. I pulled back the curtain, looked out at the depressing, abandoned gas stations. No oil... no gas... only the rich had heat. Tomorrow was Saturday. I'd probably go riding on my bike with some of my friends. But the tires were flat... and we didn't have any air compressors or anything. There's a price for everything, I guess.
I walked outside, my stained, soft, worn jeans folding as I stepped. I looked at my bike in the dirty garage and folded my arms, leaning onto my left side. I straightened my lips, clearly annoyed. I bent down to the tires, took the caps off, wiped the greasy tip off with my shirt, and blew into it until the tires looked tight and high enough to ride. I screwed the caps back on, and called my friends. Of course, they was all said yes. Well except for Jonathan, he was sick from rust. But what else was there to do? Our phones were mostly for emergencies to conserve power. I hopped on my bike, and we all met at the old ice cream shop. A few cars were parked in the cracked parking lot, but most of it was bikes. There was hardly anybody inside, since dairy was so expensive. If you could afford ice cream, you could afford almost everything in this town.
The next day, I was in math class. I had a love-hate relationship with math... Alexa, pretty much the one who joked about everyone which I couldn't tell if it was always joking or not... but anyways, she fell out of her chair while looking for a book in her bag. I couldn't help but laugh a bit at the way she fell, especially since she was right in front of me. She snapped her neck to me, and stood up. "Looking to pick a fight, Phoebe?" She said, emphasizing my name. "Don't think so, Lexi." I squinted my eyes with a stuck-up face. She lunged at me, stocking me right in the neck. I went flying backward, but caught myself on my desk, my desk sliding a couple feet into the guy behind me. The bell ringed at that moment, my heart pounding. Alexa stood up, clearly ticked off. "Saved by the bell, literally." She growled, whipped around, snatched her backpack, and stormed out of the room. Our classmates looked at her, and then all their heads, almost in sync, shifted to me. I flushed red, grabbed my backpack, and bolted out of the room, my eyes wide with fear and embarrassment.