Breakfast in Bed

Chapter Three Mullet

I groaned as I etched my way through the halls. Busy with people trying to get to their class before the bell rang.

Honestly,

I didn't care.

I DIDNT CARE.

I was already having a pretty sucky day, and I didn't want to see any other people having a good day.

My locker was by my friend, Iyana's, which seemed to make me feel better.

I made my way over to it, and turned the dial to the numbers 34, 9, 7.

"Hey." Iyana smiled, walking up from behind me.

"Hi." I whispered.

"Crappy day?"

She new me so well.

She slouched against the wall of lockers.

"There he is, you should go talk to him." she lifted her chin in the direction of Brady.

My stomach dropped again. And I felt like I was about to meet my breakfast again.

"Oh, it's not that hard." She say, typing in the password to her phone.

"Easy for you, you don't like anyone."

"Who said that?" She smirked.

"You."

"Oh yea, I forgot." She touched the middle of her cheek.

"Now go. Before I go tell him you think he's beautimous and that you love him." She gave me a little push with the tip of her Van.

I rolled my eyes and mouthed, 'I hate you' in her direction.

She started to make kissy sounds, and I blushed.

"Hey, Carlie." Brady caught me off guard.

"Oh. Hey, um, uh, Brady? Yea, Brady.." I said, wanting to slam a locker door on my head.

"Yea, that's me." He smiled, showing his dimples. Ahhh.

"So do you want to, um, go see a movie Saturday?" I asked, rushing the last few words, waiting for the one sound that would hammer my heart. 'No.'

"Oh, sure that'd be cool." He half smiled.

"Thanks. I'll text you the deets!" I smiled and started to walk away.

"Wait!" He called back. "I don't have your number."

Luckily, Iyana came to the rescue, giving me a pencil and a piece of gum wrapper to write it on.

I gave it to him. He smiled, and we walked off.

"How do you feel now?" She grinned.

"Like a million bucks." I snapped.

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The teacher we had for first period, Mrs. Barnabey, was my least favorite of all. She had green rimmed glasses, bell bottom jeans, and big tan heels that 'cluncked' every time she took a step.

Not to mention her hideous up-do.

A sleeked back front, which was made to look very puffy in the back, which only made me feel like she was trying to look like a penguin.

She had different highlights, from black, to red, to brown. And her hair was a cheap, 'Barbie doll' yellow.

It was a mullet.

And I feel she was trying to copy one of 'Billy-Rae Cyrus's' old up-dos.

For some reason, she was stuck in the '80's.

She never played music unless it was Michael Jackson or Prince. And not to mention Madonna. Eek.

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My second period teacher, Mr. Akens, was by far my favorite.

He was around 30 or so, and he always wore kakis.

He called everyone 'Narly' and he was a big football fan.

He was history. And he made it fun:)

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The rest of my teachers really aren't anything to notice, just a bunch of teachers that have the same hang-over bellies. Same unbrished hair, same gritty voice that sounded like a smoker.

I'm being mean, you'd say, don't judge people, you'd say.

I am not judging, but just stating the truth.

And so the day tumbled on, me switching class to class, rolling the number dial on my locker to get in. And daydreaming about Brady and the movie we'd see together.

That word-together.

'Together'

ToGeThEr.

TOGETHER!

Just didn't sound right when it was related to me.