Drag Me to Wonderland

Dillon hates Surprises

High School is hell, and anyone who tells you any differently is an asshat just trying to jerk you around. Dillon sat at her desk, praying to any deity who would listen to give her the strength to stay awake in class.

Dillon tapped a pen against the top of her desk.

Tap, tap, tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

Cue the dramatic sigh. The girl in front of Dillon wrenched herself around. She throw Dillon a furious glare. Dillon blinked at the girl. Dillon wasn't very well liked, through no fault of her own, she just didn't inspire friendship in her classmates, but she felt she didn't deserve the glare.

It was her pen and she could tap if I wanted to.

Tap, tap, tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

Another dramatic sigh.

After awhile even she got tired of it. She sighed yet again and tucked her pen behind her right ear and turned to stare out the window. At least there was something out there pretty to look at. The school gardens were one of the best in the state. They had won awards a few years back.

It was a mockingly beautiful nearly summer day. The sun, a fat coddled egg, solid, soft and bright, was racing quickly across the sky. The intense heat of a summer in the south was still a month away but short sleeves and skimpy shorts wouldn't have been amiss. Dillon squirmed in her starchy skirt. Her panties were already started to stick to her. She hated panty sweat.

The transom windows were open just enough to be annoying and teasing at the same time. There was barely any air swirling into the room. The aroma of freshly cut grass permeated the air and tickled her nose. Dillon was itching to get outside and suck in air that wasn't recycled and ladened with teenage pheromones. She was an outdoors sort of girl, more comfortable running through the woods in a torn t-shirt and jeans, looking for a new species of toadstool than watching YouTube videos on the proper application of eyeliner. Eyeliner was invented just to make girls like her feel inadequate. Not that she sniffed at those other sorts of girls, she just wasn't one of them.

They were pretty to look at for sure, just so you know.

She shifted in her seat, again. The hard plastic not giving an inch of comfort no matter her position.

Through force of will she kept her eyes away from the clock. She couldn't trust herself if she glanced at it and saw that only five minutes had passed. Don't you just hate those teachers that disregard the sanctity of the last day of school? The bastards that insisted on still trying to teach something? Trying to impart that last little nugget of knowledge. As if anyone was paying any real attention.

Dillon knew she wasn't.

Her body was still, her eyes five minutes away from being glazed over. Her mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour. She was busy planning the Summer of Dillon. It was going to be great and it was going to be epic. She was going to spend every single day at the beach being a total beach bunny, catching waves and doing a little snorkelling. Getting a tan. Then on the days when she needed a little variety she was going to whittle away her life fishing, or paddling around the lake. Maybe on those occasionally rainy days she would spend some quality time with a XBox controller in one hand and an ice cold bottle of Root Beer in the other.

It was going to be glorious. Then when the summer was over, she was off to a new school, her sentence at Lakewood over with, and if nothing else that was something worth celebrating.