The Thing About Love

two » my brother is cheesier than lasagna

It was a Monday morning in October. The sun was up, the sky was blue, and the temperature was warm with low humidity, low dew point temperature, and high visibility. I braided my hair flawlessly and gazed through the window. Gracefully, I communicated with the forest animals.

"You look pretty today" tweeted the birds.

"Why thank you!" I chirped back.

I sat up abruptly on my bed. That was by far the weirdest dream I had experienced so far. It wasn't that late, so I had just enough time. I checked my phone and groaned. Nic had kept me up until 4:00 AM on Sunday morning and I was pooped. I tied my hair into a ponytail and threw on a hoodie.

It was then that I realized that I live in California. I quickly changed into a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. I put on a pair of ratty sandals and trotted out.

"Good morning, honey!" My mom's happy voice interrupted my not so happy thoughts.

"Morning. Why are you so happy? It's a Monday; that's not allowed." I grumbled.

"I'm just in a good mood, that's all." My mom grinned and passed me a piece of toast and a glass of milk. I sat down at the kitchen table and was about to eat just as I spotted a jar on the counter top.

"Is that what I think it is?" My mom just smiled. I moved closer to see. "Nutella!" I grabbed the jar and immediately unscrewed and swiped my finger through it, freaking out at the sensation of the spread making contact with my skin.

My mom smiled and pointed at my chair. I took a hint and sat down, smearing the Nutella across my tongue. By the time I had devoured my breakfast (and some bread), it was 7:20. I said bye to my mom and grabbed my stuff for school. I hopped into my car and drove off into the sunset. Actually, more like the sunrise. School starts way too early and they should totally change that. I parked at the school and hopped out of my car quickly, offering a quick wave to the people who greeted me with their overly peppy attitudes and happy demeanors. After getting my things, I went inside the school. I passed by a few of my friends and mumbled a greeting. Sometimes even Nutella couldn't wake me up properly on a Monday morning. I went to my locker and jammed my backpack inside. I slammed it shut and walked off to my first period class. And then I turned around to avoid crashing into the wall.

The first five periods seemed to go on forever. I nearly fell asleep during Math and Hannah had to stick her pencil into my ear to keep me awake. Well, she didn't have to. And I didn't have to stab a hole in her notes, but I did anyway so take that, logic.

"Zoot!" someone shouted. I snickered and received a few glares from around the room.

"Who here can make a sentence using a household item?" Mrs. Johnson asked.

"Vous êtes une douche." someone called out.

I quickly recognized the voice, because it was the voice of the person that taken the last piece of pie a few weeks ago at dinner. I still hadn't forgiven him. Mrs. Johnson turned red. Death tomato 2.0.

"Ron, if you make one more comment-"

"You'll what? My mother is your boss. I don't think she'll believe you over her son." Ron replied. For the record, Mrs. Nichols would never believe Ron over anyone else. We all knew that.

I felt a piece of paper hit my back and fall on the floor. I turned and tried to pick it up, but it was two desks away. I caught Hannah's eye and pointed to the paper. She rolled her eyes and picked it up, tossing it to me this time, a more reliable option.

Ron's not very smart, is he? Poor Mrs. Johnson's probably going have to deal with him for another year.

I smiled as I read the note. When I was done, I passed the note up to Cole (who I was blessed to sit behind. Mrs. Johnson probably didn't even know I was in her class) who stuffed it down Ron's shirt. Ron reached down and grabbed it. I would let him take it from here. Shortly after, he raised his hand. When Mrs. Johnson didn't see any other hands up, she reluctantly called on Ron. I waited on the edge of my seat to see what he would say.