My Little Decoy

♪ Cold Reality ♪ {34}

"Every night I try my best to dream
Tomorrow makes it better
Then I wake up to the cold reality
And not a thing has changed." - Last Hope

A week had passed. It felt like an eternity though. Have you ever noticed that when you can't wait for something to happen, the clock mocks you and takes far too long to turn, until another day had set down the horizon? Yet, when it's the exact opposite and you're dreading the next moment, you blink and it's right in front of you?

The past week had consisted of me anxiously tapping my foot through detention (from when I had so and so 'interrupted classes and disturbed school entry protocol') and classes, practicing for hours each day with the band, and staring at the second hand of the clock while willing it to move faster. Of course, the time never did move any faster and I was stuck in an endless cycle of waiting for the week to pass and my journey to begin.

But now. . .

The bell rang, freeing its students from the hold of the school. I quickly shoved notebooks and pencils in my backpack, ignoring the mess and pushing myself so hard off the seat that I nearly fell off. Ignoring the few chuckles that erupted, they were quickly silenced by a deadly glare. Adjusting my bag over a single shoulder, I was the first to leave the room.

I made sure to grab everything I needed from my locker in the earlier periods, simply so that I could head straight home and finish packing. Being packed at the start of the week, it took so many decisions about which articles of clothing to bring. So many decisions, that in fact I was still hesitant about which clothes I was going to bring, and that I was going to organize my suitcase again. Just in case.

It wasn't that I was materialistic or anything of the sort; I was just nervous. More so, that I only packed and repacked so much because it calmed me, reminding me that I would be leaving soon. Finally free. Well, temporarily.

"Good luck, Lacey." Olivia greeted me as we passed, a small smile on her rosy lips. I half-smiled back, giving her a wave. We had been on better terms since the café incident; she seemed much more ready to initiate contact with me, and the same with the Twins. Carter though, was not on the same page.

The redhead seemed frustrated that my band had made it, when she was quite certain we didn't. Shooting me glares in the hallway, I always responded with a smug smirk, a replica of the smirk she wore when she tried to bring me down. I guess I would never understand exactly why she hated me so much, but I had to admit, I was curious.

My combat boots slapping against the pavement, I jumped onto the metal bar and slid down the railing of the stairs, landing on the balls of my feet at the bottom.

"Perfect landing. Ten out of ten. Would recommend." Xander's sarcastic comment was followed by a few slow claps. I glanced up to find him in a Van Halen shirt and jeans, his usually spiked up hair a flat mess on his head. Smirking, I met him at the edge of the curb where he held up an invisible microphone. "Now tell me," Xander drawled in a thick voice. "What would you call that move?"

"'Slick as yo' mama.' Patent pending." I replied easily, shoving him to the side and heading towards Zac's truck. Footsteps behind me signalled Xander trailing after; I could imagine the frown on his face from my comment. As we reached the Chevy, I noticed that all the other members were already situated in their usual spots: Drake leaning against the passenger door, claiming shotgun, Gabriel glaring at his friend's victory, and Zac attempting to start up the vehicle.

Upon seeing Xander and I, Drake looked up and grinned, throwing his hands up into the air. "Guess what today is, bitches?"

I grinned a sharp smirk, throwing open the door of the back seat and throwing my backpack inside. "A day closer to victory."