My Crazy Years

All's well that end's well

Programming was not as hard as you imagined. Well, granted this was a very basic code that you had to write, a small function that received a number and it would calculate the sum starting from 0 and up to that number. It was simple and could be done in only a few lines with a for loop. Everyone did it in under 10 minutes, even less and now was listening to the teacher tell stories from the time she herself was studying in that very building. Mrs. Grant was a very talkative person who liked to share stories related to the teachers she had during high school, especially Mr. Gibson. She always gave you advice in regards to him and would defend him whenever you guys were complaining about his harsh teaching methods. It was a blessing that Friday ended with her class, not only because Mrs. Grant wasn't stressful but also because she always let you go early.

December was just around the corner, with one more week left of November. The air was far colder than before and the trees were already completely naked, their leaves decaying on the ground. The shops were already decorated for Christmas with carols welcoming you the moment you stepped inside. In cafes, the scent of gingerbread was overwhelming, tempting you to buy overpriced sweets and hot chocolate. The parks were decorated with ruby and gold, the sound of children's laughter chased away by the harsh weather, the earth having turned into a treasure hunt for chestnuts lovers and parents gone to search for leaves for their offspring school projects.

That week ended on a positive note for you. Turns out you got a decent grade on your chemistry test and Mr. Gibson didn't pick you to solve any exercise at the blackboard either. That night you will also get to play with the little ones, so one in all, it was going to be a good day. Or so you thought.

You were already home, doing your homework for Monday so you could have the rest of the weekend free when it happened. At first, you didn't hear it, too concentrated on what Pale King was telling you on one hand, and Grimm listening to music loudly on the other. It was Hornet who came to tell you that someone was knocking at the door, but she had no idea who it was as she had never seen them before. Thinking it may have been a mistake, you went to open it, the unannounced visitors making you drop your jaw.

There, on the doorway stood no one else but your aunt and her annoying brat, her eyes staring daggers at you.

"About time. I've been waiting here for 30 minutes." She said in a stern tone.

Lies. Hornet would have noticed them, and it didn't take her more than 1 minute to come to the salon. The most she could have been there was 10 minutes.

"What do you want?" You asked trying not to sound too impertinent.

"Hmph." She puffed and you felt your temper rising. "I came fora visit. Got a problem? Where's James?"

"He's not home. And you should have called. This is not your home to do as you please." You said, but barely have you finished your sentence when she pushed past you, her brat already rushing towards the salon.

Cussing under your breath, you ran after the kid, ready for a fight and to kick them out. You found her sitting on the couch, already on her phone, while the child was drawing on your notebook, red lines taking form all over your homework. The bugs were gone, hiding wherever they could, but you could sense their presence nearby, especially the irritation that took over them, witnessing such a lack of manners.

"Hey!" The woman called out to you, snapping her fingers as if you were a dog. "Bring me a coffee and my child more cookies."

She pointed to the nearly empty plate of chocolate biscuits you and the little ones were munching on before she came. You wanted to scream at her to get out, but then it downed on you. This woman was now your aunt and if you caused a scene here, she could complain to your parents and have them force you back home. Nope. That couldn't happen. Not at all. You decided to play by her rules for now and call James to come home quickly.