chapter 1

I woke up to the bright sun streaming in throuh the blinds. It was one of those mornings that aren't really worth it. I groaned and turned to face my alarm clock. 7:15 it shouted at me in blinding green numbers. I squinted at the bright neon and shoved Sandy off my pillow. The Chihuahua had nestled herself right by my head.
I rolled out of bed and turned on my favorite All-American Rejects CD before I stood in front of my mirror. My hair had worked its way into a side-ponytail, even though I sleep sprawled on my stomach.
I was wearing my favorite pajamas, the only ones I hope I’m wearing if someone from school randomly decides to stop by one morning, a white tee shirt with giant multicolored clown fish from an aquarium in New Orleans and baggy red pants with white reindeer leaping across them.
My uniform sits neatly folded on my desk chair, untouched. A drab cotton death-trap, I like to think of it. It’s not too bad, just very stuffy and stiff. A white polo and a red, white, blue and green plaid pleated skirt.

Just as ‘Gives You Hell’ comes on, my mom knocks on my door to see if I’m awake. I ignore her.
Apparently, she doesn’t understand that if I was asleep, my CD player wouldn’t be on, and she opens the door just as I pull on the polo.
“Pancakes, or bagel?” she asks.
“Pancakes. With extra chocolate chips.” I stroll across the room to get to the bathroom when my sister rushes in before I even get to the hall. I sigh and go downstairs to see if my dad is up, not bothering to shut my door.
“Don’t forget, you have soccer practice after school, “Dad says as I grab a fresh pancake, hot off the stove. ‘Sunshine’ wafts down into the kitchen. I start singing along under my breath when I hear Cailin shut her door, signaling my turn for the bathroom.
“Better get up there before she changes her mind,” Dad says, not bothering to look up from his paper and OJ. Arsenal suffered an exceptionally bad loss last night, so he’s a little off.

I brush my hair and wash my face in a daze as I think about today. A math test, vocab quiz, crispito day at lunch. I leap onto my bed to reach over and turn off the ‘Rejects. 7:45 says the clock. Fifteen minutes.
I pull on my black converse and grab another pancake before rushing out the door, almost forgetting my bag and purse.
Dad’s waiting in the truck; this is routine. Always waiting on me, I think as I hop into the back seat. I’m 12 years old and still not allowed in the front seat.
Sure, I’m only 5 foot, but Gracie’s 4’8 and she sits in front. Life’s hard.

Dad drops me off and I run towards the doors. “Forgot your purse!” he yells after me. Great. I slide into homeroom just as the late bell rings. 8:07. better than yesterday.


I'll post a chapter a day if i can!