Flightless Grounding (Gay)

Flightless Grounding

"Deviin! Deviin? Are you awake?" It was the sound of my aunt's needless voice. And when I say needless: I mean needless. She always pours so much emotion into every word that springs forth from her mouth. Some would call it over-dramaticizing things, or in simpler terms, a Drama Queen.

I rolled over and groaned with a sickly tone as her calling had become louder and louder. There was no way in hell I was going to school today. It was Friday. I had a Friday-skipper reputation to uphold, after all. And I mean, aunt Lierra was young too once. I think. But she had to understand. She just had to know that as a junior in high school most students were apt to get Junioritis. I mean it's just human nature. And my bed, for all its lopsidedness, deciding to get comfortable now was just in bad taste.

"Deviin Rowe, get up right this instant!" Lierra crossed her arms with a frown. She put a hand to her mouth, as if ashamed, and 'ahem-ed'. When she resumed talking, her voice was slightly higher, much more proper and sophisticated sounding. In short, her faux British accent. It kinda annoyed me. Just because her new boyfriend was British - with a strong accent to boot, didn't mean she had to adopt that way of speaking either. "You know, darling, that I wish for you to recieve only the best education so you can fly off into the the world." She used hand motions for every single word, raising both arms like a bird when she got to the word "fly".

The rest of what she said kinda blurred together. All of it except a simple word. Fly. To be as free as the birds in the sky are. As cliché as that sounded. I always wondered why the clouds above me seemed so comfy. Like I could just lay on top of them and everything would be alright. Instead of - 'ya know, falling to my death. I sighed.

"I'm not leaving until you do, Deviin."

"I can get there by myself," I groaned.

"Sure. Right. Like last week when you said you could 'get there by yourself'. I'm sick of this bullshit. You're not skipping. Get dressed. I'll be waiting in the car."

"But-"

"No 'buts', I'm as sick of seeing your teachers as you are," she interrupted with a dull smile.

I smiled to her retreating back. Okay, Lierra just won some major freakin' points in my book. I'll have to set my alarm clock and go to school on-time on Monday. Mm... Probably.

I grabbed my plaid boxers and put those on, grabbed my blue T-shirt and fumbled around for pants. Crap. All I had were shorts. It would have to do. I hoped it wouldn't rain. Knowing my luck though, it would probably be fucking pouring. I searched my dresser drawers hoodie. All that was available was a thin summer one. I totally forgot that I had lent a few out. I grabbed my Nike backpack off the floor and ran to the car. As I opened the door, a burst of heat hit me. I quickly climbed in, fastened my seatbelt and leant back. It almost seemed like too much effort.

"Here we are," Lierra said, looking at me expectantly.

"Thanks..." I mumbled, getting out and accidentally slamming the door closed a little too harshly.

"I would walk you to your class," Lierra looked at the digitalized clock in her car near the compact CD and radio system, "but I'm running late. I'll see you after school. Call or text me if your're gonna be late."

I rolled my eyes as Lierra pulled away and slung my bag over my shoulder. It was dead quiet. It took me a moment to realize that I was still outside the building. At school. And now, to top it all off I was late. And then it hit me that I forgot to ask for an excuse note. Just great. Yet another detention, which I had no intention of actually showing up for. I sighed as I pushed open the door with more force than needed and it clanged against the wall. The noise echoed.