Learning How to Count

Chapter Two

"C'mon Darren! I am NOT going to be late again for school!" I screamed up the stairs, checking the time on my phone for what felt like the millionth time.

"If you aren't downstairs in thirty seconds, I'm leaving your ass here!"

How the hell does it take him an hour to get ready in the morning?

I turn my back to open the door and walk out I hear Darren's feet lumbering down the stairs, taking them three at a time.

"Why do you have to be so pushy in the morning? We're not going to be late." He walked by me to the kitchen and I heard him rummaging through the cupboards for food.

"Unbelievable. The late bell rings in ten minutes and we're not even on our way," I mumbled to myself, putting my book-bag on my shoulders. It's just a plain and simple black JanSport bag with a few pins from past music competitions I put on the front pocket. Nothing too flashy, but then again I'm not a very flashy person.

Steaming tumbler of coffee in hand, I opened the front door and walked to my car, which is just as plain and simple as my bag. I'm really just a simple person all around. I've never been interested in anything that's too flashy or expensive like most other girls in the school. It seems every week there is something brand new and shiny in their hands they whisper about in the hallways and show off in the bathrooms and classes. To tell you the truth, it gets annoying after a while, but that's just the way life is I guess.

I open the door to my car and get in and start it, turning the heat on full blast. It's only November, but there is already frost tainting the perfect clarity of my windshield. I turn the radio on and roll my eyes as I listen to the talk-show hosts blab on about the newest celebrity gossip. Something about secret engagements and unexplained break-ups and possible hook-ups.

"Why can't radio stations play actual music in the morning? All I want is just one morning where I can listen to music instead of some trashy hook-up gossip." I place my fingers in the slats of the air vents and let the hot air rush over them in an attempt to bring some sort of life back to my fingertips. I look over to the clock on the radio to see the bright red display showing that it's 8:03--seven minutes until the late bell rings and six before I have to be in my seat. I hear the front door slam and look up at my brother, who is taking his sweet old time walking to the car. If I could roll my eyes into the back of my head, this would probably be the moment I would.

Darren gets in the car, and I don't even bother waiting for him to buckle his seat belt before I'm pulling out of the driveway.

"HEY! Will ya slow it down there, Speedy? I'm trying to not spill my coffee on me," Darren says with a mouthful of wild berry pop tart. I can feel his eyes glaring daggers into the side of my face.

"Well, I wouldn't have to drive so damn fast if you could get your lazy butt out of bed sooner in the morning. I'm going to be late to math for the third time this week. Strauss is going to crucify me to the chalkboard with some whittled down chalk."

I turned the corner, and could see the school coming up on the right in all it's towering red brick and off-white column glory. Apparently, the columns lining the front of the main building used to be a sparkling white when the school was first built in the early 1900's, but they haven't been cleaned in years. The bricks in some places could use a little cleaning as well. The school used to be a college way back in the day, and every department has it's own building besides math and science which are grouped together.

I pull into the main entrance and look down at the clock on the radio. It reads 8:07. I can still make it on time to Strauss's class if I run. I pull past the English building and park in the student lot closest to the math and science building. Turning the key in the ignition, I turn my car off and grab my bag in the backseat.