Ethel 'n Opal

two

e t h e l   d i x o n

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Despite waking up with a nasty hangover, mummy still forces me to come to school today. Back and forth I argued for a good fifteen minutes that I would just take this friday off and start up again next week. But no, this just didn't sit well with her and she made that very clear by telling me: 

"si-w gen tan pou-w frekante avek zanmi, ou gen tan pou al cheche edikasyon" (translation: if you have time to fool around with friends then you have time to go get an education)

 So she made me some nasty remedy that I didn't know half the stuff in it, poured me te kannèl to go in a small thermos, and sent me off to get a ride from popi, accompanied by Marc and my older brother Sebastion. 

I didn't miss the stank look popi was shooting me during the ride either.

 Marc probably snitched to him too. 

But I didn't show that it affected me, just threw a pair of big sunglasses to cover up the bags under my eyes, clutched my bag, and looked straight ahead.

Safe to say I was lucky because it could've been worse. 

And now here I am, thirty minutes late with Sebastion and Marc dropping me off at first period before going to their own classes. I try to quietly open the door, hoping that I could just sneak to the back where I see a few girls from the cheer squad I'm cool with,  and pretend like the teacher forgot to call my name during attendance at the end of the period. But if the rocky start to my day told me anything, its that nothing was going to be that easy.

"Erm, Ms. Dixon, where do you think you're going?" Mr. Armstrong demands, causing a few heads to turn my way. I pause mid step, slowly turning to the front of the class where his desk is.

"Damn, not the government."

"You heard what happened last night?"

"Why she look like that?"

"She got the dropout mentality on lock down."

I roll my eyes behind the sunglasses, ignoring all the whispers and insults, and I take a deep breath before replying 'cause I don't need this man bitching to my parents later. "I had a girl emergency so I got here late," a lie - although I did get my period this morning too, "can I go to my seat now?"

"I'm going to need a late pass." His eyes squint over his thick rimmed glasses. I don't know why he's so pressed 'cause its not like he was actually teaching algebra II. Dude just hit play on a Khan Academy video for the class to follow along.

"Can I at least set my stuff down firs-"

"-No. Go get a pass." This man always wanna be so hostile for no reason.

Be nice, be nice, be nice, be nice, be nice, be nice -

Man fuck being nice!

I walk out the classroom with a huff, making sure to slam the door and shout "gyet manman-w!" (translation: fuck your mother).