Colors of Opinions

Turtles!!!! (I really need to figure out a real title)

"Turn your head." My mom's fingers continue to hold my hair, creating two perfect French braids. Ever since I cut it off, if I want my hair off my neck it needs to be in either pigtail French or Dutch braids. Luckily, Mom is amazing at braiding my hair. Unluckily, I don't sit still very well. There's just so many things I could be looking at. Like my book, which I unfortunately can't read while my hair is getting done.

"Lucy, If you move your head one more time, I'll just quit braiding. You can go to school with half of your head in a french braid." She threatens this every time, but she never actually does it. Secretly, I think this is her favorite part of the day, at least until Em-Em wakes up. I do stop reading though, as she finishes the braids. Done.

"Okay, where's your hat?" Suddenly, there's fabric flying at my face. Of course. I forgot my brother was sitting at the table eating Cheerios. I toss a pillow back at him, pretending to be angry, but Mom quickly puts an end to our fight. She tells us about how there doesn't need to be a tornado going through the living room. I pull on the hat, looking into the living room mirror to check and see if its on straight. The hat, school bus yellow, matches the hair ties in my hair for the day.

Emily races down the stairs, and suddenly the whole house is awake. No more trying to keep the dragon sleeping, she's busy asking me "Why is your hat green again? It's ALWAYS green!" No matter how many times (about one million) I explain to her that it's green because she's my sister, because I love her and love is green, she never remembers. However, I do recall when Mr. Jones explained telling us sixth graders about it. Him saying 'teenagers often struggle with knowing how their peers feel about them, and this is just a way to be sure' right before we got our hats. I remember checking, double checking my chart 'yellow-annoyed. That makes sense. Purple-no feeling. I feel like indifferent would be a better word'. I obviously have it memorized now, but I'm in eighth grade. Em is still little, Marck and I are the only people she knows who wear hats, and even then, only right before school (and at school, obviously).

. . .

First hour science is not really a class I pay attention in. Even the Iliad is more compelling, which is what I'm currently reading under my desk, since Aaron is not here. I texted him, apparently his stomach is bothering him. Stupid boy. Leaving me all alone.

"RINGGGGG" The mad dash to the door is a lot, but the hallway crowd is worse. There are so many people in the school this year, and the hallways are always full. I race down the stairs, catching Kate's eye across the hall. I don't sit by Kate in ELA, but we do projects together. Sometimes.

About halfway through the class, one of the girls who sits in the back of the class, Eloise McMann, leans over to whisper to Kate. Sadly, Mrs. Williams happens to spot it out of the corner of her eye. "Ms. McMann. I need you to realize that this behavior is why your Dad dreads the weekends that you go live with him." I don't know Eloise well, but I'm friends with her older sister, Juliette. I also know that the fact that Elo's face is crumbling is NOT okay. I don't know what's happening at Elo and Juli's house, but whatever Mrs. Williams knows should not be something that is held against her.

Listen, I don't get angry easily. Honestly, I'm pretty forgiving. But for a teacher to say something so awful, and this isn't even the first time, it starts to add up. It feels like a paper bag. Normally, I can ignore when it starts to fill up, to almost burst, but the first tear causes everything I've been holding in to fall out, to explode. Yet, I stay quiet. I'll rant about it to Aaron during 5th hour, 'Mrs. Williams was talking about ... And said that'

"Lucy Williams! Would you like to explain why your hat is now RED?!" Stupid hat. Apparently I full on hate Mrs. Williams now, and she can see that. I wish that I wasn't wearing it, that she couldn't see. Only two more minutes 'till the bell rings. I can do this. Don't say anything that will make her angrier.