The Reasons I Hate You

19 | Devil Incarnate

I hate Mondays. What I hate even more is waking up feeling like shit. I wake up 30 minutes late, leaving me with no time to brush my hair, do a little bit of makeup, or eat. I throw on my uniform and rush out the door.

Now that Preston wasn't home I was driving home to school alone. I put on my shoes as I'm running down my porch and into my car. I was already ten minutes late.

I fumble with my keys, being in such a rush. "Fuck fuck fuck."

Ms. Thomas was going to eat me alive. Being late to her class was the equivalent of sinning.

I messily pull out of my driveway and probably break some laws getting to school. I sneeze so hard that I almost lose control of my steering. I've been sneezing since I woke up. It's annoying the shit out of me.

I reach school in 5 minutes. Which is the same amount of time it always takes me so I guess I wasn't driving as badass as I thought. I miraculously park without crashing into a car and run into the school. I let out two sneezes on the way to my classroom.

I flatten out my uncombed messy hair before walking into the classroom remembering that I not only felt like shit but probably looked the part too.

I enter breathless and exhausted but at least I was present. I look for Ms. Thomas waiting to be yelled at but instead, I am met with a different face. We have a substitute. We have a fucking substitute. I keep my knees from buckling and falling to the floor to let out a scream.

"Name?" The substitute asks me.

"Fawn Oakley."

She squints, checking her roster before looking up at me and nodding.

Realizing I rushed for no reason, I walk to my seat, defeated.

"You look like shit." I had almost forgotten about Cal being in this class.

As if my mood couldn't get any worse.

I sit down next to him. "Fuck you too."

He frowns. "I'm serious. You look pale."

I sneeze. "I'm fine."

"Are you getting sick?" He gently places the back of his fingers on my forehead, feeling my temperature. "You're fucking burning, Fawn."

I move his hand off my face. "I'm fine. Get your disgusting hands off my face."

"You don't look fine."

"So you've said."

Now that he's mentioned it I realize I am feeling really hot. Not only that but my head was throbbing. But I was not going to get sick. No. There was no way I was going to get sick. I'm sure it has to do with the lack of sleep I got last night.

I look up at the board to see what work we have to do and then reach for my backpack. I look down to my right to find that my backpack wasn't there. Confused I look around me but the only backpack near me was Cals. I helplessly eye my surroundings when suddenly it hits me like a slap to the face.

My eyes widen as I realize I forgot my backpack at home. I left it at home. As in it's not here.

"I didn't bring my backpack," I said still shocked.