Present
Lamai
I woke up to my alarm clock screaming in my ear. Ninja leaping out of bed, my feet landed on the cold carpet in my room. I slapped a hand over my clock, hoping I hit the off button. I looked around my room groggily. It was dark outside. Basically, it was a typical morning in December. It wouldn’t be light for another three hours, but school beckons and according to the law, I have to go.
Shuffling out of my room, I went into the kitchen and ate oatmeal. The rest of my morning was surrounded by a fog; I remember brushing my teeth and changing, but I can’t remember how long I brushed for or what I was wearing. I packed my backpack and slipped some shoes on. On my way to the bus stop, I realized I was wearing a black sweatshirt with my favorite ripped jeans with a studded belt.
“Great,” I muttered sarcastically to myself, “people won’t think I’m emo now,” I arrived at the bus stop and stood by myself. Nobody at my bus stop talked. I liked to think that it was because I was there and could shut people up just by glaring at them, but I knew the truth; they were plain scared of me. No one had ever tried to meet the real me. All they knew was that I was a little chunky and I looked stoned all the time. What prep would want to be seen with a stoner? It goes against high school rules.
Tires braking snapped me out of my stupor. The bus was here. I got on and found Sheelin and Mila in our usual spot. We had claimed the seat that was as close to the back as we could get without getting yelled at by seniors. Sheelin was wearing one of her outfits she had designed and I had sewn. I loved sewing. I could be by myself and not have to put up with the crap of the real world.
Mila sat right next to her. She was the leader of our little group. She was Filipino and white so people often mistook her for part Hispanic or Indian. This worked to our advantage because people tended to avoid us, not that we minded. Mila always looked confident so people thought that we were up to something. We weren’t. Trust me. She sat there today with baggy khaki pants with a studded belt and a low-cut black shirt. Her black hair was shoulder length and extremely straight. She looked at me with her startling blue eyes and nodded.
I walked faster down the aisle and managed not to bump anyone. I sat down next to them. The bus ride was silent. We were listening for any gossip that we could use against people if necessary. Since we had formed Lakas for Life, we had gotten a bunch of crap from the preps who used to be our friends because we were ‘being stupid’.
“Yeah, she was so drunk last night,” floated down the aisle.
“Well did you get the pictures?” came after.
“Sounds like Amy was wasted again,” Mila said tiredly, “it’s kinda hard to believe that we were all friends once,” I nodded and listened to another conversation.
Lamai
I woke up to my alarm clock screaming in my ear. Ninja leaping out of bed, my feet landed on the cold carpet in my room. I slapped a hand over my clock, hoping I hit the off button. I looked around my room groggily. It was dark outside. Basically, it was a typical morning in December. It wouldn’t be light for another three hours, but school beckons and according to the law, I have to go.
Shuffling out of my room, I went into the kitchen and ate oatmeal. The rest of my morning was surrounded by a fog; I remember brushing my teeth and changing, but I can’t remember how long I brushed for or what I was wearing. I packed my backpack and slipped some shoes on. On my way to the bus stop, I realized I was wearing a black sweatshirt with my favorite ripped jeans with a studded belt.
“Great,” I muttered sarcastically to myself, “people won’t think I’m emo now,” I arrived at the bus stop and stood by myself. Nobody at my bus stop talked. I liked to think that it was because I was there and could shut people up just by glaring at them, but I knew the truth; they were plain scared of me. No one had ever tried to meet the real me. All they knew was that I was a little chunky and I looked stoned all the time. What prep would want to be seen with a stoner? It goes against high school rules.
Tires braking snapped me out of my stupor. The bus was here. I got on and found Sheelin and Mila in our usual spot. We had claimed the seat that was as close to the back as we could get without getting yelled at by seniors. Sheelin was wearing one of her outfits she had designed and I had sewn. I loved sewing. I could be by myself and not have to put up with the crap of the real world.
Mila sat right next to her. She was the leader of our little group. She was Filipino and white so people often mistook her for part Hispanic or Indian. This worked to our advantage because people tended to avoid us, not that we minded. Mila always looked confident so people thought that we were up to something. We weren’t. Trust me. She sat there today with baggy khaki pants with a studded belt and a low-cut black shirt. Her black hair was shoulder length and extremely straight. She looked at me with her startling blue eyes and nodded.
I walked faster down the aisle and managed not to bump anyone. I sat down next to them. The bus ride was silent. We were listening for any gossip that we could use against people if necessary. Since we had formed Lakas for Life, we had gotten a bunch of crap from the preps who used to be our friends because we were ‘being stupid’.
“Yeah, she was so drunk last night,” floated down the aisle.
“Well did you get the pictures?” came after.
“Sounds like Amy was wasted again,” Mila said tiredly, “it’s kinda hard to believe that we were all friends once,” I nodded and listened to another conversation.
