Chapter 5: Back to School

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So much has happened in one week. It's hard to believe that it's only Monday. It's hard to believe that I was in a hospital two days ago, and went to a formal with Aaron yesterday. It's hard to believe that my life is actually, fingers crossed that I'm not jinxing this, happy. Then again, school is starting and I'm going to have to deal with the stuck-up whores and the annoying, droning teachers that claim we learn in their classes. The worst teacher out of all of them is Mr. Fitzsimmons. He is this old dude with bad breath and a short fuse. Not to mention the fact that he is practically a pedophile. I shudder everytime I think of last year in ninth grade, when I had him as a substitute teacher for Mrs. Carwell and he was looking at Allie as if she was something to eat. She saw him staring at her that way and tried to tell him off, standing up in the process. He stared her down for three seconds, and she stared back. He came over to her like a squirrel on rabies, and sat her down in a way that looked like he was just sitting her down, while he was really feeling her up. I was never that mortified in my life, even more so then the time when I caught my mom and Charlie "doing it" on the kitchen table. Actually, now that I think of it, I'm not sure which is worse.

I looked inside my closet and pulled out a pair of faded skinny-jeans and a sweatshirt. I put them on then proceeded to add a little makeup to my zombie face. I went down stairs and saw my mom and Charlie kissing, in the process of taking off each others clothes. Ugh. I shuddered.

"Guys, just keep it in the room!" I yelled covering my eyes. I heard some scurrying, my mom's awkward laughter and a husky sounding sorry as they retreated back to their bedroom. I'm serious, one of these days Paris is going to wonder what her mommy and daddy are doing, and it won't be good for any of us.

Since I completely lost my apitite, I decided to just wait for Allie and Nick to pick me up. I sat there for seven minutes tapping my feet awkwardly, and I heard a faint honk from outside.

"Bye mom, enjoy the rest of your day," I called out, hoping she wouldn't answer me while doing whatever she was doing. I ran outside to Allie's car.

"You have the face of somebody who just watched their parents doing something that they should not be doing in public," Allie observed.

"Spot on," I mumbled, trying to blink the mental pictures out of my mind.

"It's not hard to be spot on when you see that face almost every week,"

"You'd think they'd learn after the first couple times," I whined.

"You mean, learn that their daugther gets up the same time they start getting it on," she chortled. I covered my ears with my hands.

"Lalalalalala," I blocked her out.

"You have to admit it is funny," Allie reasoned.

"It's not funny when it's your parents believe me. Imagine your parents doing it on the kitchen table where you used to put your pancakes. It gives you a very cynical view of life," I ranted. Allie chuckled once more. Nick cringed.

"I can't see my parents doing it in the bedroom, let alone on the kitchen table. Once you do it, you'll see it is just a very fun part of life that we all must, including our parents, partake--"

"Stop trying to contaminate my innocent ears," I yell. She just chuckled again and let the topic drop. Thankfully, it stayed quiet until we got to school.

We pulled into the school campus, and I saw the familiar faces of my usual friends on the curb of the school. Our usual morning spot where we hang out until homeroom. I saw all the other little groups of people crowding around in their own respective spots. My school wasn't exactly a public school, but it wasn't a private school either. It was kind of a more prestigious public school for kids who were smart and for kids whose parents had money. I didn't get in because of money, but all the "popular" people did. My group is made up of the people that were smart enough to get in without any help from their parents. All of us, well except me at the time, had the money to get in without to much knowledge but we were each extremely smart. It's not to say I don't have a lot of money, just my mother doesn't use a lot of it, because we don't like being indebted to our grandmother. Grandmother didn't like me even though I was clearly the smartest one out of all her grand kids. She said that Erin was smarter than me because she got better grades (because she tries a lot harder) and is prettier than me. I don't understand the juxtaposition of those two things. Well it's obvious what she cares about more - the external -- which makes perfect sense because even though by many standards Grandmother would be considered pretty, there was obviously nothing going on in her brain. I remember that conversation all too well, no matter how many times I tried to forget it.

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