From The Start (1st Draft)

Chapter 11

Alex never came.

Stephanie got called down to the front office over the intercom, and she got up so fast that I couldn't even say goodbye to her. She just left.

I had track but didn't run.

I got sent to the principals office because I wasn't participating, and yet I didn't care.

Alex still never showed up like I hoped he would.

My mom picked me up, and drove me home, while I gave her the silent treatment.

I sat in my bedroom for the whole rest of the afternoon, confused, worried, angry, depressed, every emotion you could ever imagine. I was so fed up with the world, and the funny thing was, I didn't even know what was bothering me so much. I was standing in front of my bed, staring at myself in the mirror across my room. I was about to break it until my mother stopped me.

"Rosalie," she groaned, barging into my room.

"Mom," I snapped, sitting onto my bed and crossing my arms. "Why don't you ever knock?"

"Because I own this house," she said loudly.

"But I could have been naked."

"I brought you into this world. I used to change your diapers."

"Mom," I fake gagged. "Yuck."

"You're in very big trouble," she said, glaring at me through her reading glasses.

"And what did I do?"

"Rose," she sighed, leaning against the doorway.

"Mother," I argued. "Can you at least tell me why I'm in trouble?"

"Your school teacher called," she answered.

"So what?" I frowned.

"So she told me about all of your late passes," she nagged.

"Who cares about being two minutes late?"

"I do," she raised her voice.

"Well good for you," I laughed. "Because I don't. I'm keeping my grades up."

"You have a C right now," she complained.

I really had no idea. "Well that isn't fair," I stated stubbornly.

"She told me the reason," she said, shaking her head.

"Who even called you?" I interrupted.

"Ms. Gilson," she sighed loudly. "Your science teacher."

"Well she's just stupid and annoying," I told her. "I don't like her."

Her mouth dropped. "What has gotten into you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're being so rude," she frowned.

"No I'm not."

"And you don't seem to care about your school work anymore," she told me.

"It's a C. It's not like I'm failing."

"Your math teacher also left me a message."

I scowled at her. "You've got to be kidding me."

"He told me that you have a D," she shouted.

"A D? But I do the damn work!" I yelled back.

"He told me that you've been dazing off lately and that he's offered you help but you're not willing to take it," she argued viciously.