The Arrival (Marie)

The Arrival (Marie)
 
            On the day, (that would was from then on known as The Arrival) of April 16th, Marie Telfair was grumpy.  She looked in the mirror and her reflection stared back.  A girl of around 16, her long brown hair hung straight down, just a little past her shoulders, a nose that often wrinkled when she was angry, eyes that she thought were a bit too slanted (although she never would have guessed it, boys had been tripping over themselves, whenever her eyes sparkled with laughter), and a body that boy’s sadly never really noticed.  But that was their loss, she decided.  She skipped over to the shower in a slightly better mood, she always liked showering, it felt like shaking off everything that had happened before and starting off fresh.  As she was washing her hair, her mother called up:
            “Petit Marie! You must hurry! I cannot drive you to school today!”
            “Oui Mère!” Marie answered cheerfully (nothing a shower couldn’t make better),
“I hurry!”  She stepped out of the shower and flicked back her head, sending thousands of tiny droplets of water, cascading against the tile floor.  She looked into the mirror again and smiled, then skipped off to her room.
            “Hm… now what to wear?” She murmured to herself, and thought of Kevin Bingham, wondering what would grab his attention and finally notice her.  It was a warm Spring day so a mini-skirt would be appropriate, maybe if his hand brushed against her leg…
            Marie shivered with the idea of it.  She scampered over to her underwear drawer and pulled out a slightly skimpy bra and a bottom.  Then she scampered over to her dresser, a relatively small one considering the amount of clothes she had. And pulled out a simple jean miniskirt, and faded red tank top with the Aeropostale logo emblazoned on the front.  She set to work getting dressed.  She grabbed a Northface jacket.
            It was 6:23, 67 minutes till The Arrival