Creep

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Do you ever have those times where you do something weird and you kind of regret it? Do you ever wish maybe you hadn't done that one thing that is morally not something you should ever do because so much stuff happened from then on out? Do you ever just wanna shove your face into something flat and solid, like a wall, or a desk, or your kitchen counter?

Yeah, me too.

•••

The first thing that I hear every morning throughout most of the years is my alarm clock. It's loud, and annoying, but it definitely does its job. I will admit that it is ultimately better than having my mother barge into my room, throw off my blanket, and shake me awake. That was especially worse when I was at a certain point in my youth where I felt more comfortable sleeping commando rather than wearing simple shorts. I kept apologizing to my mom for a month after that, and my dad only made fun of me constantly.

I was quick to put my glasses on, get changed, brush my teeth--the usual morning routine. I walked to the kitchen to make myself a breakfast of two slices of toast. My mother (I call her Umma) was already up and awake, sipping a cup of coffee while still wearing her pajamas. She wished me a good morning in a still thick Korean accent, one that she's had ever since I could remember. I wished her a good morning and leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. She was significantly shorter than I was, but I was still considered (somewhat) short among the other boys at school.

I made the toast, slathered butter on the two slices and chowed down on them fast. (I wasn't in a rush for school, I just eat fast so I have more time to relax before I head for school.)

After waiting in my room for another fifteen minutes, Appa (my dad) came in and said we would be leaving. Adjusting my glasses, I grabbed my backpack and followed him out. Appa is also Korean, but knows and speaks more fluent English than my mother. He's a business man, and has held an occupation as a professional translator ever since he started his career. Of course, he would be more exposed to English, which was one of the things that reeled in my mom. After years of dating, they got married, and four years after that, they had me..!

I wished Umma good-bye and left out the door. Appa and I filed into his car and after a quick turn of the engine, he was backing out of the driveway and taking me to school. I listened to music on my earphones while he listened to some morning talk show on the radio, and before I knew it, I was getting dropped off at school. I bid my dad a good-bye and walked towards the front doors, not seeing him drive off the campus.

The hum of students talking and walking around were drowned out by the music I listened to, and I made my way to the usual spot that I stand at in wait for the first bell. When I made it, a girl sat against the wall, on the floor, doing some extra touches on her makeup. She was dark haired, olive skinned, and her eyes were a nice chocolate brown color. She may be quiet now, but she could be a loud person when she was comfortable, just like anybody else. Not only is she beautiful, but smart and pretty ambitious for her dreams. It's a wonder I ever became friends with her, or rather, how she became friends with me.

"Morning, Yani," I said as I slumped next to her. Yani stopped doing her makeup and gave me a big, gorgeous smile.

"Hey, gringo," she greeted and my heart warmed like it usually did when I was around her and her sarcastic personality. Yani Hernandez has been a true best friend to me since middle school. Neither of us know how it happened or why we even bother to still be with each other, but we can both say we're happy with what turned out. Despite my fully Asian descent, she likes to refer to me as gringo for how unbelievably "white" I can be. People would ask if I was offended by that, but I could care less. It was better than chino. Even Yani thinks it's super disrespectful, especially when I'm Korean and not Chinese.