Once Upon A Dime (hiatus)

3. Friends and Foes

"Paris! Get out of the bathroom!" I bang on the faded, peeling paint and yowl in impatience.

"Just a minute!" She barks back, and I slump down against the door. You'd think that she'd let me have at least two minutes. I need to get ready for school, too!

First days are always a drag. It's always going to be a fashion show for the first week, and then people give up after they find their place in the social society. Right now, I'm hoping that I'll at least become a middle class resident and not one of the homeless, in real terms. In school terms, I'd like to be one that fits in and has a moderate amount of friends, rather than be one of the few outcasts that sit alone and draw skulls on the edges of their notebooks. They do that in America, right?

"Open up, Paris! You've had a half hour!" I resume to slapping the door with my palm, and a few dust particles float down to the ground.

"Fine!" She opens the door suddenly with a forced, jolted motion, and I come hurtling down onto the bathroom floor. Now, being the smarty that I am, I forgot to stand up. Nice one. She angrily steps over my body, goes into her room, and slams the door behind her. Ouch. I'll certainly be hearing of this, later.

I scramble up and over to the sink, brushing my gums bloody and until my teeth sparkle more than the moon. I got my braces off two years ago, and I couldn't be happier. Sure, we could barely afford it at the time, but things have been lookin' up, of late. That's my only good asset, I think.

I rush into the shower, forgetting to check the temperature, and I fling myself to the back of the tub. I'm greeted with tiny bone freezing droplets that come down on my skin in a steady stream, chilling me to my very core.

What an excellent start to my day.

After exiting that 'fight for life' in the shower, I tie my hair up into a loose ponytail that barely scrapes the ends of my shoulder blades. I wonder if it's true what they say. That blondes have more fun? I wonder…

I've never been one for makeup, since anything that goes on the face that isn't a facial feature is fake, and I don't want to be labeled as a barbie. On the other hand, Paris can't seem to get enough of whatever new pink lipgloss or mascara has recently come out. They're all the exact same. I don't understand why different brands have to make more than one type of product. They're all the same!!! I hurtle down the steps and out the door, barely grabbing my backpack on my way out. The bus supposedly comes at… 7:08. It's.. 7:07?!??!

I fly towards the end of the street, where I know the bus stop to be, and swipe a few droplets of sweat from my upper lip. I take notice to a few other kids standing there in complete awe at the unruly girl before them. I clear my throat, and take deep breaths, trying to calm down the raging velvet color from my face. My face always tends to get extremely red, and there's nothing I can do to help it. The bus tumbles around the corner, and the few students at my stop hurtle themselves in line, eager to find the best seat before anyone else. I'm thrust to the back, and I grumble at my luck. Apparently, the back is the designated 'senior section', since no one else sits in the far back rows.

After boarding the bus, I take notice to the absence of a certain freshman that makes a prickle travel around on my skin.

Where. Is. PARIS?!?

I pull out my phone swiftly, typing in her number until my fingers cramp. When I get angry, my muscles tend to spasm, and I can't even begin to explain how annoying that is.

"Where are you?!" I hiss into the phone, grabbing the attention of some sleepy looking riders.

"I ran into this hottie sophomore and he offered me a ride!" She cheers gleefully into the other end of the line. I hear a deep, masculine voice coming from Paris' side and I roll my eyes.