Jared Holmes is the only boy I have ever truly hated.
When I was five, he put play-doh in my pigtails and my mom had to cut it out. Thus, leaving me with a ridiculous looking pixie cut.
Seven years old, Katie and I were baking cookies for the scho...
"Miss Mary, Miss Mary!" The persistent knocking on my bedroom door grabs me by the ankles and drags me away from my very delicious dream. I can feel myself slipping further and further away from the streams of golden caramel and the trees made entirely out of cookies. I groan in frustration, burying my head further into the warmth of my pillows as the knocking increases.
"Go 'way." I mumble.
"Miss Mary you're going to be late for school!"
I groan again, swatting at my ear as though the annoying vibrations are coming from a fly. My mind is foggy with sleep and I can't quite make sense of where I am, what is happening or even what time it is.
"Jesus! Essa garota será minha morte!"
The knocking silences and only then, once my room is left quiet once more and my brain is slowly beginning to drift off into the world of desserts, do my instincts finally kick in and I shoot up in my bed. My eyes are wide and my face hot as I realise that it was Greta Who was banging on my door. I would recognise that Portuguese accent anywhere.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I mutter as I try to untangle myself from my blankets. My eyes search for my alarm clock and I almost go into cardiac arrest when I see that I have less than twenty minutes until Lexi and I have to leave for school. I get up, practically running towards my bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.
The chill of the morning air bites at my skin but I shake it off. Showering will have to wait until tonight because I take way too long in a shower and I just don't have the time.
I wince when I catch sight of my horrific reflection in the mirror. My hair is like a freaking birds nest. I run my brush through it, throwing it up into a messy bun. I don't really care right now and if I leave it down without straightening it, my curls will go everywhere. Also, make up will have to stay out of the equation today. lucky me.
Once I've done everything I need to do in the bathroom, I make my way towards my closest. I grab a pair of my underwear and matching bra, slipping into them before changing into a floral white sun dress with a lace trim. I'm red in the face and breathing heavily by the time I'm fully dressed and almost trip over my own two feet as I attempt to slip on a pair of my boots. I simply could not rush, it always ended up a disaster and with myself injured.
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Grabbing my phone, purse and backpack, I practically sprint down the many flights of stairs. I pass Greta who is carrying a pile of fresh towels on the second floor and scare the living daylights out of her.
"Miss Mary do be careful! Garota estúpida vai me dar um ataque cardíaco." She grumbles that last part to herself but I've picked up enough Portuguese from her over the years to understand that she just called me stupid.
"Love you too!" I call to her with a silly grin on my face before carrying on down the stairs and stopping by the front door where my older sister is waiting. Her arms are folded and she grins at me. I bend over, placing my hands on my knees as I gasp for my breath.
