Rejected At First Sight

Chapter Seventeen

Getting up in the morning is hell. Especially, when a headache immediately appears when the alarm clock goes off. Maybe school isn't as good as I thought it was in the hospital, but it's still better than the hospital.

I press the snooze button, but instead of sleeping more, I get up and sit on the edge of my bed. If I don't get up now, I never will. With my eyes closed, I feel for the off button on the alarm clock and turn my alarm off. I open my eyes to morning darkness.

I slowly stand, and once I'm balanced, the headache slowly disappears. I walk out of my room and to the bathroom. Once there, I splash warm water in my face to wake myself up. It works, but also manages to get water all over the bathroom floor. I sigh, grab a towel, and kneel down to wipe up the water.

Once the water hazard is gone, I relieve myself, wash my hands, and brush my teeth. I look at my appearance in the mirror. I look like shit.

I sigh at my appearance, hoping I can make it look like I wasn't just at a hospital. I turn around and head back into my room.

Going to my closet, I pull out a pair of dark wash jeans and a red sweater. I get dressed, brush my hair, and attempt to make my face more lively. Deciding to not go overboard, I only but on a little foundation under my eyes to make the circles there disappear.

Turning around, I grabbed my phone of my nightstand and headed out of my room to the kitchen. Instead of hoping down the stairs like I normally do, I slowly walked down the stairs to the kitchen in search for food.

Once in the kitchen, I walked to the cabinet which held the coffee mugs. Grabbing my purple mug, I walked to the coffee pot. I poured the coffee until it was two inches from the top. I went to the fridge and grabbed the Coffee Mate French Vanilla. I poured the French vanilla in my mug until it was almost overflowing. Stirring it with a spoon, the black coffee turned into a creamy colored heaven.

Hearing commotion coming from the stairs, I knew my parents were coming to the kitchen. A couple of second later they entered.

"Who made the coffee?" I asked them.

"I did," my dad responded, "about half an hour ago."

"Well, thanks. It's exactly what I need." I responded gratefully.

"No problem sweetie," My dad says as he comes over to me and kisses my forehead, "how do you feel?"

I groan, knowing that this question was coming, "I'm fine dad." I turn away from him, with coffee mug in hand, and walk to my backpack which is on the floor near the door to the garage.

"Are you ready to leave, mom?" I ask her as I lift my backpack on my shoulders.

"Oh wait. I made you lunch, it's in the fridge." My mom exclaims while walking to the fridge. She pulls out a lunchbox and tosses it to me.

I groan again at there parenting, "I don't need you to make my lunches." Still, I slide my backpack off and put the lunchbox in it before lifting it up on my shoulders again.

My mom rushes past me with the car keys. I follow after her and we both get into the car. She starts the car and we head to my school.

"If you don't feel well, even if it's a tiny headache, you call me or your father and one of us will immediately come and pick you up. Okay?" She said, concern lacing her voice.

"I'll be okay mom, promise." I respond with a sigh.

"Evangeline, promise me." She demanded.

I sigh again, "Fine, I promise."

She smiles while I huff in annoyance. Silence settles over us as we drive the rest of the way to school.

Less than a few minutes later, we pull up. She stops the car in the front and I open the door to leave. I get out quickly to avoid any more talking. I shut the door and turn around to give a quick wave. She waves back and I head into school.