Sweet Little One-Chapter Two

A Chapter by Annawrites

Chapter Two of Sweet Little One

Chapter Two

School ends about three o’clock and I follow Quinn to her house. She has a two story home, a big family: three sisters, two dogs, and two parent all living under one roof. I slightly envy her life. It takes about thirty minute drives to get to her house. She lives deep in the country where all the dirt roads are. The roads are curvy as I drive, and I get bit nausea.

I finally drive up a long, windy driveway and reach a beautiful farm house. There’s a white front porch that’s wrapped around the house, with steps leading up to the house’s red door. There’s a red swing to match on the front porch. Flower bushes are along the side of the house, very pretty.

I climb out of The Bug and greet Quinn.

“How was your day?” I ask her.

“It sucked,” Quinn answered. “How was yours?”

“Lame. Although, Michael Martinez is back,” I grin, my heart pounds at the mention of his name.

“Michael Martinez?” Quinn echoes his name.

“Yes,” I reply. “We caught up; he showed me photos of when he went to Spain.”

“That must’ve been nice,” Quinn responds. A blonde hair, blue eyes-Kayleigh Taylor enters the hallway of the farm house. She’s tiny and four years old.

“Hi sissy,” Kayleigh greets her.

“Hi Kay,” Quinn smiles at her younger sister.

“Can you play with me?” Kayleigh asks.

“Sure, we can play hide and go seek,” Quinn answers. “I’ll count and you go hide.” She starts counting and Kayleigh giggles then goes searching for a hiding place.

“Are we really going to play hide and go seek?” I ask her dumbly.

“No, I just agreed to get rid of her. Let’s go upstairs,” Quinn laughs. I follow her up to her bedroom. Her bedroom is pink, and has ballerinas wallpaper. She had the same room since she was five years old. She’s hoping she could change the room soon. Her room is a bit messy with clothes on the floor, and magazines are everywhere.

“Cheerleading try outs are on Saturday,” I say.

“They are, are you thinking about trying out still?” Quinn asks.

“Defiantly, wouldn’t miss them,” I retort.

I got home about five o’clock, Hannah was sitting at the table already eating. She looks mad at me.

“You are late for dinner,” she growled.

“I’m sorry,” I reply. “It won’t happen again.” Lately since Mom’s been drunk, Hannah took over the motherly role. I can’t wait until she goes back to Harvard (she’s taking a semester off for an internship).

“Good, please sit down,” Hannah orders, like I’m in trouble and about to get grounded. “Were you late this morning? You were sleeping when I left.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I ask her. She just shrugs. I help myself to spaghetti by scooping up noodles onto a blue plate, and then spreading the red and meat sauce all over the pasta. It looks so delicious. I was chatting away with Michael during lunch period, and I forgot to eat my own lunch.

“How was your day, besides being late?” Hannah starts up a conversation.

“It was good,” I reply. “How was yours?”

“Great, I did a lot of laundry. I did yours for you,” Hannah says.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to,” I respond. I didn’t want to be rude or mean, and say “don’t do my laundry.” I’m very picky when it comes to my clothes, I don’t want them to shrink.

“You’re welcome. I don’t mind, really. Laundry is fun for me.” Weird. Completely weird.

“That’s odd,” I say. “Usually chores are boring and time consuming.”

“Since I’m home and studying, and writing my book-chores are a productive time for me,” she argues.

“Oh,” was all I say.

“Can you help me wash the dishes after dinner?” Hannah asks.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Thanks.” After dinner, I help her wash dishes by hand. The dishwasher is broken, and we don’t have enough money to get it repaired. So we’re stuck in washing dishes by hand. It sucks.

Once I finish washing dishes, I go upstairs to do my studies. I take out the English homework and start writing my English essay. I’ve got done one page in an hour. I don’t mind writing; it’s a way to express myself. Actually, English is my best subject, and so is science. Shakespeare gets to me though, since sometimes I don’t really understand it. I finish up the English and move on to chemistry. I complete a couple of chemistry questions, and review them. I feel a little prepared for tomorrow.

I close my books around nine o’clock, my eyes are drifting off to sleep.

It’s Tuesday, and this time I wake up a bit early. It’s five o’clock in the morning, and I have no idea why I get up this early. I barely got to sleep last night, and I kept waking up. I also kept thinking about Michael Martinez. That only made me keep waking up, and staying awake.

I get dressed, wearing my blue jeans and yellow shirt with a black shrug. I look cute as I model in front of the mirror. I check my teeth, all look good. I comb my hair, and pull it back into a pony tail. I slip on high heels, I’m getting used to wearing them. I grab my purse and go downstairs.

I enter the kitchen; Mom is passed out drunk again on the couch. I wonder if she’ll ever learn she could die. I sigh as I rummage through the pantry and see what I could find. I grab my favorite cereal, Blueberry morning. I snatch a bowl from the cabinets and sat down at the kitchen table.

I had brought down with me a fashion magazine. I flip through bathing suits, shorts, tees, and flip flops. Obviously it’s a summer magazine. Oh how I’d wish to give in and go back to summer break. But summer break ended yesterday. There’s a cute summer tee on page nine, and I really want to order it. I glance at the price, no I can’t. I don’t have any credit card, no cash, basically a money period. The only shopping I do is browsing on the internet or window shopping with Quinn.

I sigh, I glance at the clock. By the time I’m done eating breakfast, it’s five-thirty. Only three hours until school. I have really nothing else to do, but clean. But I’m completely exhausted and mentally exhausted. Especially since I woke up thirty minutes ago.

I go back upstairs to my bedroom and lay in my bed for awhile. I dream of Michael Martinez. I love his brunette hair, and green eyes. His smile lights up the room. A grin forms on my face, when Michael Martinez pops up in my mind. Michael’s eyes are glittery. I’ve known Michael since kindergarten as well. We’ve been best friends since then too. He’s the captain of the wrestling team.

I glance at my clock, six o’clock.

“Are you up?” Hannah walks into the bedroom.

“Please knock,” I answer.

“Are you up?” she repeats.

“Yes,” I murmur, half asleep. I must’ve fallen back to sleep.

“Good, you won’t be late again.”

“Whatever.” I climb out of bed and go downstairs. Mom is still asleep on the couch, just catching her zzzs. It’s still too early to go to school, and I have nothing else to do. Maybe I could drive around in my car. No, bad idea. Plus I don’t feel like it any ways. I actually don’t feel like doing anything but lying in my bed. I love sleep. Sleep and I are best friends. If I’d have my way, I would sleep all day.

Finally its seven o’clock and I head to The Bug. I open the door and jumped in the car. I slung my backpack in the passenger’s seat and opened the garage’s door. I drive out of the garage and take the usual route to school.

I park in the same parking space once I arrive at Ackerman high. When I go through the double glass doors, I find that the hallways and foyer of Ackerman High are crowded. I go to my locker and collect my English textbook and binder. Michael was waiting for me.

“I have a question for you,” Michael grins at me.

“Yes?” I ask him, heart pounding yet again.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go to Homecoming dance,” Michael beams at me. Could it be possible he’s asking me out? I think he is! I want to scream with elation, my heart thudding wildly. I try to remain calm, and I try hard.

“Absolutely!” I reply. Boy, did I sound desperate or what?

“Great, I was hoping to double date with Quinn and Craig,” Michael starts making plans.

“That would be fun,” I say. Then I realize it’s my last homecoming weekend. How depressing that is. I shut my locker door, and my jacket gets stuck. I moan, and of course-the locker rips a hole in my jacket. Michael laughs. How embarrassing. I twist the combination into the locker, and it opens. I got the ripped pieces and stuck them into my backpack. Everything seems to happen to me.

“Great, I’ll get the tickets then,” Michael says and then he goes up to the table where they’re selling the homecoming dance tickets. Did he just ask me out? I think he did. My heart is excited as I watch him purchase the tickets. He returns. “Got them.”

“Great,” I smile stupidly. We walk off to homeroom together, and then separate into different classrooms. I slide into my desk and sling my backpack on the floor.

“Audrey Hamilton,” my homeroom teacher, Mr. Danforth calls out.

“Here,” I answer. Mr. Danforth is sort of cute. He’s tall and masculine. He has blonde short hair and gorgeous blue eyes. No one knows about my secret crush I have on Mr. Danforth, not even Audrey. I find it a little far fetch that I would ever hook up with him.

“Kyle Haynes,” he says.

“Here,” Kyle answers. Kyle is a geek, loves reading textbooks for fun. He even did a report on the solar system in eighth grade for extra credit. I hardly ever do extra credit, not unless my grade was failing. Kyle is on the basketball team, and he plays basketball wicked mad.

“I have a list of clubs here that you can sign up for. It is “A” day,” Mr. Danforth says and places a list of clubs on his brown oak desk. We all go up to take a look at the list. My goal this year is to sign up for three clubs, so I won’t be stuck in homeroom doing homeroom.