A Silent Cinderella

(2) I Should Have Bought Him Flowers. And Stuck Them Up His Ass.

(2) I Should Have Bought Him Flowers. And Stuck Them Up His Ass.

One word: school.

Where the weak and innocent get pummeled by the high ranks, AP class nerds hide their acne covered faces in chemistry textbooks, and teachers could care less about there students. I generally think of school as a prison, the teachers as the guards, and us students as the prisoners.

Well prisoners without those awful orange jump suits.

"Yo Blue!" Ian, my brothers best friend yelled from a group of football players. Out of all of my brothers friends, he's the one I dislike the most. It's not just because that he's one of those high rankers, the reason is how he treats people. If your not in his circle of friends or are not rich, autmotically you will be treated like dirt.

Stepped on by Ian without a second glance. If anyone ever cared about a persons personalitly rather than their looks...

He'd be the one getting stepped on.

With his dirty blonde thick-ish hair flopping as he walked, Ian made his way towards where we were standing. I snatched my truck keys from Blue's hands and started to speed walk away from their going-to-be whore conversation on who-fucked-who.

Not my idea of a good talk.

I walked towards my usual spot I sat at in the morning with my friends, under the big old oak tree. We had claimed it in the beginning of freshman year, I chose it. There wasn't a particular reason why I wanted to spend all my school mornings under a tree filled with disgusting bugs, I myself don't really know.

"What it do, home skillet?" Paige asked as I plopped down on to her lap. She was one of my 3 best friends that always came to school early since she only lived 3 blocks down the street. 'Just made an all-mighty escape from two manwhores.'

"Your brother and Ian?"

'That'd be the manwhores, yes.' I know that its not very sister-like of me to call my own brother, flesh and blood, a manwhore but I speak only the truth. He's come home with more girls than I could count with my fingers and toes put together. I even have my own pillow that I've named "sound blocker" so I wouldn't have to hear there... buisness. I looked to my right and left before asking Paige 'Where's Sierra?'

"She went to Mr. Raymon's class to pick up some extra credit work."

'Why? Doesn't she already have a 95% in that class?'

"Yeah but you know her parents, 'Anything under 100% is nothing to be proud of'." She said, qouting Sierra's father in a deep manly voice. 'Please, my grades are all B's and I'm pretty proud of them.' I mentaly patted myself on back for my acheivements. I maintain a B point grade average and considering how high my I.Q level is, I deserve some praise.

'Fuck you.' Paige signed as I grinned. She however, was not a hardworking dedicated student such as I. She never studies, always copy's from the dumbest people, and is just so darn lazy.

So overall she's a stupid glob that lives off potatoe chips.

'Love you too, beautiful.' I blew her a kiss that she caught before stomping on it. Paige has been my best friend since after what happened when I was 8. The kids in my class never really spoke to me, it wasn't because they thought I was a freak or anything. The reason was I didn't wan't them to talk, play, or even go near me.

I was frightened and sometimes I just wanted to be by myself.

Where nobody could hurt me.

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Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now

Our song on the radio but it don't sound the same

When our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear me down

Cause' my heart breaks a little when I hear your name...

"Faith, can you help me real fast?" Sierra bumped with her shoulder, interrupting my Bruno Mars. I gave her a I-couldn't-hear-you-look and she repeated her question. "No talking!" Mr. Ochoa's voice boomed across the room, sending Sierra to shrink down in her seat and me flinch a little.

Mr. Ochoa was my Algebra teacher. He was rude, mean, and the most hated teacher on campus.

And I had him for first period.

Lucky me.

Just as I was about to plug my earphones back in, the classroom door swung open. Everyone watched as Tucker Johnson strode into the classroom and stopped at the teachers desk. No one turned back to their worksheets, I had already finished mine, or whispered amongst each other. Everything was completey and utterly silent except from the argueing being heard from the front of the classroom. Tucker was good looking.

Okay, maybe good looking was an understandment.

He had messy raven-black hair, bright gray-green eyes with long lashes, and full soft pink lips. His nose was crooked because it had been broken before and he had a pale complexion. Tucker wore a white cotton t-shirt, faded jeans, and a black leather jacket and combat boots. He dressed rather simple really. Tucker spun around and walked over to his desk but not before stopping at mine.

"Hey mutie, watcha' listenin' to?" He grabbed one of my earphones and stuck it in his ear. Now snickering had began floating around the room and I regret sitting on the right side of the ailse. "You have a shitty taste in music." He declared, throwing my right earphone back at me.

I took out the earphones and went to an app that I use when I talk to Sierra. When I type something and press enter a robotic womans voice reads what I wrote out loud. She hasn't really mastered sign language so this helps. "You have a shitty personality but you don't see me complaining."

That earned a bunch of "Ooo's" and a "Oh shit" from some guy sitting behind Sierra. He glared at me and opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Mr. Ochoa. "Sit down, Tucker." As he sat down, I pushed my earphone back in and pressed play, resuming at some part I had paused on when eyeing Tucker.

It all just sounds like oooooh...

Mmm, too young, too dumb to realize

That I should have bought you flowers

I should have bought him flowers.

And stuck them up his ass.