Real And True [NO LONGER IN EDIT MODE]

Chapter Two

Chapter 2

::: The bell rung loudly, disrupting my sleep. I jumped up with an alerted look plastered on my face and glanced around, feeling drool cascade down the corner of my parted lips.

I sighed and swiped at the drool with my sleeve, before standing to my feet and gathering my belongings.

Falling asleep in class again, Miss Payne? I could already hear my teacher chastising me. But to my surprise, I escaped the room unseen and without a problem.

I was headed to my next class when I heard this loud, shrieking noise.

"Dessy, is that you?!" The shrill voice exclaimed, approaching closer as I shut my eyes, continuing to walk and praying that she didn't notice me. "Girl, now you know you hear me. Why you actin' so brand new?" She was now in front of me, her arms crossed over her chest and expression livid.

"Shannon!" I stopped and feigned a ecstatic smile. "Hey, girl! I didn't even hear you," I lied.

"Girl..." Shannon was filled with so much excitement that she disregarded the fact that I was definitely avoiding her, as she flicked her long hair over her shoulder and behind her back. "The turn up is so real, now that I'm transferred to your school! It's gon' be a fun year, especially with my day 1 and number one twin, Dessy Des-yassss!" She nudged my side gently as she smiled from ear to ear, making a huge ruckus within the hallways of our high school.

Her making noise wasn't the problem. This school seeps with ghetto-ness and loud noise. The problem was the word "twin" she so comfortably uttered out.

Twin? Hah! There are twins with different personalities, but this wasn't one of them. Shannon had a personality that some would say is wild, carefree, and fun, but I would call straight crazy, ratchet, and...well, so damn wild that you had to hide your face in public.

It's not hating or nothing, believe me. I give credit when credit is due, regardless of how I really feel about the person. But Shannon is the last person who I would relate myself to, especially in appearance.

Shannon was shorter, lighter, and feistier than me, her backside thicker but stomach not as flat as mines. That's why boys liked her: Her tongue was razor sharp--which, when kissing her, would probably leave an incision of regret deep within your gums--and an attitude on one hundred. But she had a body out of this world (in the eyes of teenage boys and even grown men) and eyes that told all kinds of exciting stories.

But I know her; those stories deep within her eyes were steaming hot, inhibited tea that she would spill on any stranger just to have them notice and listen to her.

But Shannon is a friend of mines. Then again, I wouldn't so much as call her a friend, but an associate. She tried to befriend me all throughout middle school and we just started hanging out somewhere around the seventh grade.

Damn, even after six years, I still don't consider her a friend...

I don't know why we're not so much alike, because honestly, I'm not too far off from the crazy scale. But being one hundred, she acts like...a hoe.

Who you hang out with reflects who you are, and I don't need "THOT" being what people see me as, as I stand beside her in public cracking up at the crazy stories and jokes she tells.

She keeps me laughing, that's probably the only reason why I talk to her, other than our history.

As you can see, though, I have been avoiding her. Or at least trying to.