The Other Side of Normal.

Chapter 13: Rough Morning

I hurriedly climb out of my truck, grabbing my back pack as I go. Pulling out my phone, I check the time: 7:42. Rushing into the building, I zig-zag through all the students and make my way upstairs to the second level of the school where my locker is. I catch sight of Victoria and Libby chatting by my locker as soon as I reach the top of the stairs. Taking a deep breath, I attempt to make my tired body liven up and take on the starring role of Natalie Angelo: 17-year-old high school phenomena.

Apparently all attempts were for not because when Victoria sees me her eyes widen and she exclaims loudly, "Oh my gosh! You look like literal death. You're wearing sweatpants. I didn't even know you owned sweatpants." By this point I've reached my locker and have slung my pack off my shoulders, ready to put my books away when all of a sudden two hands are clutching my shoulders and I'm being violently shaken. "Who are you and what have you done with my Natalie?"

After looking her in the eye for a minute, I place my bag on the floor and sigh. "I stayed up until 4:30 writing a shit English essay on Romeo and Juliet. This right here," I say while gesturing to my body, "is the result of an hour and a half worth of sleep and eight cups of coffee. Double shots of espresso in two of those eight." I'm met with surprised and empathetic looks from Victoria and Libby, and I throw a quick thank you up to God for gracing me with the luck that neither of the two have my English teacher.

"You should have just stayed home." I tiredly nod in agreement to Libby's comment.

"I wish I had, but the parentals bitched about the importance of education and respecting my mentors' time, or something along those lines. I dozed off during bits and pieces."

"Well at least your parents care about you getting an education." Victoria pipes in.

"Oh yeah, I'm definitely blessed." The sarcastic remark was meant to be taken lightly, but there is a tightness about Victoria's smile, and there is no light in her eyes like there usually is when she finds something funny. The warning bell for class breaks me out of my analysis, and dread slowly seeps into my bloodstream.

"Shit. You guys better get to class. I'll catch up." I hurriedly wave them off and finish unloading the contents of my bag into my locker, while simultaneously pulling out the required books I need for A.P. bio. I slam my locker closed, not fazed by the judgmental glares I get, and sprint to Snarkright's class. I let out a sigh of relief when I am a mere three feet away from the door, but my joy is short-lived when the bell rings right before I take that precious last step into the classroom. There, standing in the doorway, is a smirking Snarkright.

"You're late. Detention. Today after school. I look forward to seeing you there, Ms. Angelo. Now go to the office and get a tardy slip." The smirk that was on his lips has grown into something resembling the Cheshire cat, and his eyes hold a giddy glint. Next thing I know, the door is slammed in my face, and I'm left stranded in the hallway.

Filled with frustration and anxiety, I yell at Snarkright through the door, causing an unnecessary scene. "You realize you just condemned yourself to extra time with me! I promise you, I'm a bundle of joy when forced to stay at this prison longer than required." With that I hit the door and turn towards the direction of the office. The walk there gives me enough time to clear my head, well, at the least I am able to ebb my anger.

Secretly, I love the feeling of rage. It is powerful and dangerous and reckless, everything I wish I was. And it gives you the courage to do anything you want. There is a chaotic clarity in the hues of red in rage, almost like a third person view of you and your actions, and that's the high feeling that I feed on in times of distress. Unluckily for everyone else, I hold on to that anger. But, I think it would be in my best interest not to storm into the office seeing red.

I stroll through the doors separating the office from the main hallway after taking a couple deep breathes. I quickly catch sight of the large secretary desk taking up the majority of the space in the room. Three aging woman sit behind computer monitors positioned from where I am to the farthest corner of the room. Processing the order of each desk, I decide to approach the lady positioned farthest away, with the messiest desk. As I walk up to her, she gives me a slightly frazzled look, by which I assume is because she is surprised I walked up to her, which I had banked on due to her least presentable work space. I'm really hoping she will be sympathetic to my cause, or at least more so than the other two women.

"Hi, Mrs. Shomaker." I say after taking a quick look at her faculty identification badge strung around her neck on a lanyard. "I was tardy to class and was directed here to get a tardy slip, is that something you can help me with?" I give her a friendly smile, dimples and all.

"Why, sure I can. Name and class?" She replies, a pleasant look in her eyes as she pulls out a wad of purple tardy slips.

"Natalie Angelo, and A.P. Biology."

After she fills out the slip and verifies it's authentication with her signature, she hands me the small paper and gives me a soft smile. "There you go. Anything else?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Snarkright gave me a detention after school today for being late, so is it ok to call my stepmom and tell her I'll be running late?"

"No problem, if you'd like, you can do it in that room there for some privacy."

"Thanks." With that I step into the room that she gestured to and call Tammy.

After the third ring I hear a, "Well hello there, young lady. Shouldn't you be in class?" A smile tugs at the corners of my lips at the casual mothering tone of her voice.

"Indeed I should, but unfortunately I was one second late and proceeded to get sent to the office to get a tardy slip after so graciously being given a detention for after school today. I wanted to call to let you know of the situation, and make sure that it was ok with you to watch Taya a little longer than expected?"

"Of course it's ok. This teacher sounds like he's got a stick up his ass."

"You hit the nail on the head with that one." I confirm. "I better get back to class. Thank you, you're a life saver."

"I've been told. Have a good day, and I better not hear of anymore trouble, missy, or else you'll be grounded." The empty threat made me laugh, and in response I mock salute. Only then do I realize that she can't actually see me.

"Yes, mom." The soft tinkle of her laugh carries through the receiver before she says another quick goodbye and hangs up.

After I put my phone away into my pocket, I step out of the side room and head back out to class, after saying a quick goodbye to Mrs. Shomaker. Pushing my short little legs into a stride larger than comfortable, I reach Snarkright's and knock on the door. As expected, Snarkright takes him precious time, ignoring me at the door. Finally, and thankfully, Libby gets fed up and let's me in herself.

"He's such an asshole." She whispers as I pass by her, smacking the tardy slip on Snarkright's desk then turning back to my seat. I catch Lucas's eye and he smirks at me, to which I reply with an eye roll and small smile. My eyes drift to Chloe and I am met with a death glare, which causes me to laugh at the utter immaturity.

"You're already on parol, Ms. Angelo, it would be wise of you to watch yourself for the rest of the period, or I'll double your jail time."

"Mr. Snarkright, I'm having a bad day, and this detention isn't making anything better. So please stop gloating about how you finally have a reason to make my life as miserable as yours." With a tired sigh, I plop into my seat and look at him wearily. He squints at me over top his glasses and glares, but decides to carry on with the lesson and ignores me for the rest of the class period.

Turning to face me, Libby subtly asks, "Are you alright, girl?"

With a forced, unfortunately unconvincing smile, I say, "Yeah, I'm just really grouchy when I'm tired. Plus on top of no sleeping I had a rough night with my parents. They're assholes."

Understanding flashes through her eyes and an empathetic smile spreads across her lips, "I feel you."

I return the smile and wonder just how deeply she can relate to me, without pushing the matter. I'll find out later, I think to myself.