Messed Up Vita

Chapter Eight

Right before the bell rings, the speakers light up, and a voice announces, "Attention, students. The fall dance will be next week on Friday, seven to twelve o'clock. Formal attire, please. Thank you." It clicks off, and people start to chatter. I shake the thought away. I'm not going. Who would I go with, and why would it even interest me?

   I find myself glancing over at the boys. They weren't even talking about it- only muttering about how they'll miss a football game on that day or something. 

   "I can't wait," Mandy says next to me, swooning at the thought. "The theme of autumn, the dresses, the snacks. . ."

   "It is usually good?" I ask her.

   She nods, eyes wide. "Yeah. They went full-out last year, with actual leaves decorating the room and the smell of pumpkins all over the room. It was wonderful. All the girls wore cute dresses, and boys wore tuxedos. I think it's the same this year."

   "I'm not going," I state. The bell rings, and we all rush into the different gender locker rooms. I slowly followed the other girls out, still talking to Mandy, who's eyes just popped open and mouth drooped.

   "You have to!" she nearly cries. "It's the fall dance!"

   I shake my head, half-smiling. "I don't like dances. I think they're. . . cheesy, I guess. Cheesy and boring."

   "That's whats the fun of it!" Mandy says. "Besides the boring part. Wait, it's not boring! It's fun, if you get into it. You could take pictures of the couples, if you wanted to. Or take pictures of the party and the dresses and things like that."

   I roll my eyes, opening my locker. Mandy's was across from mine, on the opposite row. "Yeah, I so want to take pictures of random people until midnight. Fun fun," I say, my voice dripping in sarcasm.

   "Whatever, Eliot," Mandy sighs. "You're missing out." 

   I shake my head. "Trust me, I'm not. I could think of at least twenty different things I could be doing besides going to that stupid fall dance."

*        *        *

 I walk home from school that day- no more rides from Joey.

   I just couldn't figure that kid out, I think a bit addled. When I met him, he was interested that I could play guitar and was nice. When we went on stage, he clapped and stuff. But then he turned bitter and walked away from me. Then he gave me a ride home. I mean, what the heck? Was he bipolar or something?

   I pull a hoodie out of my backpack just as I'm walking down the sidewalk, and wrap my arms and torso in it, thankful for the warmth. Then, out of heinsight of before, I take out my Ipod and ear buds. Comfy and musically I was great. Stress and homework, not so much. 

   I listen to some Imagine Dragons as I slowly walk down the pavement. I stare the ground and kick a rock along as I listen to Hear Me. I shove my hands into my pockets and try to shut out the world.

   My thoughts fly to my stepmother and our argument from yesterday. I would have to face her. I would have to probably apologize for snapping at her, saying that my mother will always be worth more than her. Even if it was true to me, it wasn't the kindest thing to say. I wish I lived in my mother's house instead of my dad's. But he had custody of me, so I am kind of forced to stay with him. But like I said, it's not like I didn't love him or anything. I do. But my mother understands me more than him.

   The rock I'm kicking flies into the street, and is whizzed away when a car drives by. I sigh at the little disappointment. 

   Suddenly a honking car sounds over my earphones, and I look up. A pickup slows down right next to me, and I narrow my eyes. I take out an ear bud and pause my music, a bit of fear rising.