Thrill Seeker

Making out with the Floor

Chapter 2

It’s late in the evening glass on the side.

I’ve been sat with you

For most of the night.

There is a “myth”, I read this on the internet so, this might not be the most accurate thing that you will ever read, that said you should never use your favorite song as an alarm. Reasons to that, I have no idea but, I did it anyway.

I turned off my phone and busted out the same song on the music app. Let’s face it, finishing the song on the alarm is useless cause you’ll have to turn it off anyway.

After a few Ed Sheeran tunes and my mini-dance party of one, how depressing, I placed my phone in this wooden box that I made with my gradpa when I was nine. I found it in the attic with old stuff that we kept after they died and thought that it’d fit my phone perfectly in the bathroom to keep it from getting wet by any unknown substances.

I was singing this Christmas song in French (overdue I know) when I shut off the shower and headed outside with a towel around me and my phone in hand. As you can see, I never leave my phone. I can live without it just fine but, I’d rather that, in face of an emergency such as dying from a problem that I have most likely caused; I’d have my phone with me to call someone to save my sorry ass.

What problems might this be? Well, there might be a deadly radioactive spider, it might turn me into spider-woman but I’m not taking any chances, or, a flying pig hell-bent on squishing me to death. With my luck, anything is possible.

Now with my vocal cords warm from probably the only exercise I will get, a nice bath, and a semi-crappy it’s-a-Monday mood, I am now kinda sorta ready. Oh yeah, nevah fohget zee clothes people!

I checked the time and I was running late. Again. So, with toast in my mouth and shoes on, I made like a chicken and ran for school.

I arrived at school ten minutes before the bell rang (see, running like a mad chicken does help your attendance record) and if I could just head straight to my locker I could just make it to class at the other side of the building.

You know, I just realized that I could have taken my car to school instead of running here like a lunatic. Urgh… my hair must be a mess. I didn’t even bother to brush it…

As I power-walked like a fitness crazy grandma to my locker I thought to myself; I never did anything morally wrong in my life. I never cheat or steal, ok maybe the occasional batch of brownies that my mom makes once in a blue moon, which can hardly be considered as a crime. So, why do I have to go to school at 7:30 in the morning and endure an “educational” term for the word prison for the next eight hours is far beyond me.

I was immersed in my other mundane thoughts about life and pepperoni pizza when-

Bam!

Folks, it is now time for introductions. Butt, meet the floor. Floor, meet my ass. I assume that you two have been properly acquainted for several occasions now so, let us carry on.

Looking up from my floppy pitiful state on the floor, I saw that I’d I bumped into the cutest and angriest boy you have ever seen. Wait, did I say cute? I meant hot- angry. I mean, angry. He didn’t say anything though but he looked hot- I mean scary. He. Looked. Scary.

After my ogling at the super hot- I mean very angry boy, shit, get it together Tree. I apologized and made like a chicken and ran to my class.

I just barely made it to my seat when our teacher came in and I breathed in a sigh of relief. I just made it.

“Close call, wasn’t it Miss… Grase” damn it.