Worth The Fight ✓

Chapter Ten

QUOTE OF THE CHAPTER:

"The first thing I learned at school was that some people are idiots; the second thing I learned was that some are even worse."

― Orhan Pamuk, Istanbul: Memories and the City

Dedication: @Red_Velvet_Yum (for her immense support and amazing comments starting from the beginning.)

Banner: shewasamystery

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CHAPTER TEN

Next day, I wake up feeling better - not like sun is shining, birds are singing type but better. The sun isn't shining because my curtains are always closed at nights because I hate it when sunlight brushes my face and wakes me up at an earlier hour than I intend to wake. Since I live in the city, it's not birds that are singing but cars' horns. To sum it up, I'm slightly better.

My eyes half open, I make my way off to bathroom and wash my face. I feel a bit sober but my body resists not to sleep back. That's why I quickly make my bed because otherwise, I'll be haunted by its charm. Then, I can't help but eye my room, remembering what Calvin has said yesterday. I think myself that it isn't that messy. Just a pile of clothes on the ground at the edge of my table, and books and my laptop on it with a glass of water (I've half-drunk two days ago.) I go and open my wardrobe and notice that most of my t-shirts are thrown inside, (who will make an effort to put them neatly? Not me.) I've seen worse - my room isn't messy. It's an average teenage room. It's Calvin who is absurdly neat.

I sigh, taking one of the t-shirts and a pair of jeans from there and shutting it with my foot. In turn, I put them on, forming my hair into a ponytail and grabbing my bag from the ground. Then, I'm descending the stairs in a hurry because I'm like two minutes late for school. I espy Mum sitting at the kitchen alone, drinking her tea in an absolute silence and I wonder why she's at home in this hour. When she notices me, standing, I curse myself for not behaving faster and getting out, but she's there, her lips quirking up for a smile, and she stands up and walks over at me. Soon enough, we are face to face and she murmurs a quiet good morning. We haven't talked after yesterday's speech because I avoided her at all costs when I returned home. I was actually dying to ask what she said to Calvin, if she said anything whatsoever but I held myself. I didn't want to learn.

"Morning," I say back, flatly, and then pull the door open. "I'm running late for school."

"You haven't made breakfast," she murmurs with a worried tone.

"I never do," I snap, wearing my sneakers.

"Okay." I glance up at her suspiciously. She accepted it so quickly again. Her eyes are on me, too, expectantly but I shrug and go down the porch.

She yells after me. "When will you come back?"

Not spinning back, I reply: "I dunno." A question comes to my mind at that moment: Will she be waiting for me?

Because of this useless conversation, I'm ten minutes late. I decide not to attend the first class anyway, it will make no difference. In fifteen minutes, I'm at school, sitting at canteen and drinking coffee. Surprisingly, I take out my literature book and check today's lecture so that I will know something if the teacher asks. I try to read and understand but the latter doesn't really work out. I don't like literature - from this, most would think I'm a science person but it's totally wrong because I hate science more than I hate literature. I think I'm not a school person, that's all.

I sigh, turning the pages and at least keeping some useful words in mind. We are learning literary movements and right now, we're at Romanticism. I find their attemps totally pathetic, that their works are totally based on feelings, mostly love. I think I'm closer to Realism in that case, since it's based on reality as it is. Romantics created a world for themselves that they could be happy - and their characters were either completely good or bad. Who can be utterly good or bad, anyway?