Ten

433 21 11
                                    

Wren

My phone was dead when I pulled it out of my backpack.

In the time to took me to sulk upstairs to my room, where my charger was left plugged into the wall on the opposite side of the bed, my entire pot of tea had the time to brew. One step at a time, even more difficult than the last.

I felt exceedingly popular when the only notification I received was a text message from my mom, which was sent this morning.

Your dad and I went to his office to prepare for the party tonight, the text read. We'll be back by 11pm. Since it's a school night, no staying out past 10 please. I left dishes in the sink for you to do.

Without meaning to, I sigh. And not because of the dishes.

However, I was kind of relieved to get the house to myself for the day. When Dace and I first started hanging out, every instance in which he would get even an hour to his lonesome, he would dart straight for the phone and call me or one of his other friends, desperate for company.

Haven did the same. She hated being alone, so she tried not to let it happen often. I didn't get that. Not even a little bit.

I absolutely loved it when I could squeeze in some alone time on my schedule. That's when the sweatpants & hairbun came out, and I dined a box of oatmeal cookies on the living room coffee table while binge-watching my favorite tv shows. I was glad the lonesome wasn't too long, but just the right amount of peace and quiet.

Except today, I didn't do any of those things.

I made myself tea, did the dishes, and dragged my backpack into the living room. I jumped onto the nylon sofa, crossing my bare feet under my knees, and pulled the small, leather-bound dark lavender book from the largest pocket, opening it up on my lap.

The first page consisted of small, scrawny handwritten scribbles in the middle of the paper, that read:

Haven's Diary!

bad grammar and pointless rants that YOU should never, ever read, EVER.

Even though I knew she was right, I closed my eyes tightly and flipped the page anyway.

***

"How many more days until summer vacation?"

A simple question that my dad yelled from behind me as I was rushing out the door to catch a ride with Jenna, who was honking her damn horn repeatedly so loud I wanted to murder her with a rake.

I called back, "seventy-seven, not including the weekends!" before slamming the door shut behind me.

And I knew this because Mr. Munoz would not allow me to escape the hell of his classroom until making us all aware that there, in fact, were one more less day than yesterday until summer vacation. not even kidding.

WHILE ON THE TOPIC OF MR. MUNOZ, I ALSO WANT TO KILL HIM WITH A RAKE. IDK WHY A RAKE IS MY WEAPON OF CHOICE BUT IT SEEMS REALLY USEFUL, PERHAPS I SHOULD START CARRYING ONE AROUND.

so last friday was picture day right, and I had Wren french braid my hair all cute and adorable, but after third period I found out one of the hairbands came out and it the whole braid was coming undone.

so im like, SHIT! because fourth period is when we take the pictures !!!!

so i get in the classroom and luckily Jenna was already there, so I sit down and beg her to redo the braid because I can't see it.

but litERALLY as soon as she even got started,, Munoz comes in and goes "this is A2 Human Biology, not beauty school. Haven, please find your seat before I phone your father. this is the third time this week you have disrupted my class."

and I wanted to scream "WELL FUCK ME IN THE ASS AND PISS UP A FLAGPOLE MUNOZ" bUT in lieu of that i just flipped him off discreetly while walking back to my seat because that's how I roll lmao

god, who hurt him. he's so annoying. he's just a mean old grouchy grump who doesn't care about anyone but himself!!!!1!1!1!1!1

today, he actually have me a C on a test that Jenna got a B on, and we had ALL THE SAME ANSWERS.

im just so sick of him. seventy-seven more days, right? haha.

even though my week's been crappy, im so relieved to get to jenna's bday this weekend! she even invited Ethan for me, which is huge for her considering how much she HATES him.

I called her and asked if she would, since he wanted to hang out and I had the party. but jenna goes "no, haven. this is MY birthday, I don't want you hanging all over him."

and I was like, "I won't, I swear! plus, he'll bring you a present... "

and she said, "haven, stop. it's my party so I can invite whoever I want to. and I don't want him there."

and I groaned and said "if you're going to be such a bitch about it, maybe I won't even show up."

well, that got her. because now Ethan and I are BOTH invited. so I guess I owe her not "hanging all over him" the whole time (even though I really want to).

and since jenna has that huge rich kid pool in her backyard, people are definitely going to jump in and whatever. so i gotta get a cute bikini before the party, but idk when I'll have time !!!

anyways, I'll have to finish writing later since I have to finish that stupid assignment for stupid biology. ugh, fuck school.

***

I sit forward, slamming the book shut and throwing it towards the coffee table. It flops over onto the floor, and I cross my arms over my chest and try to ignore the lump in my throat.

It was weird seeing all those scribbles in ink on the pages, written down hastily in blue pen. Like, I could lick my thumb and press it to the page, and it would smear. It's no copy, it's real. She wrote it, and now I'm reading it, nothing in between.

Diving right into all those thoughts and emotions she was feeling when she jotted it down-- it just made my eyes well up and my throat constrict, knowing that right at this very moment, all she was feeling was naught.

Strangely, I didn't want to read any more. It just didn't feel right.

If Haven were here and she saw me reading it, anyhow, she'd most likely thrash me alive with a rake.

***

HAVEN HAS OFFICIALLY NARRATED!!!!!!!

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