Purple Flowers

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For some strange reason, my older sister, Chrissi, thought it was fun to get up at five in the morning and get ready, which wasn’t really a problem until we moved and I had to share a room with her. Let me just fill you in with my I-like-to-sleep-in-and-anyone-who-wakes-me-up-is-dead-meat-issues: Yesterday Chrissi got hit in the head with a magical flying alarm clock. I wonder how that happened.
I’ll give you a hint: it has something to do with the noise she makes and the fact that I’m not a morning person.
As much as I whine and complain, Chrissi still gets up early and she still makes tons of racket everyday while I am getting-well at least trying to get-my beauty rest.
Today it was her electric toothbrush, which is something that is really hard to ignore because it is so annoying-especially at five-thirty.
“CHRISSI TURN IT OFF!” She poked her head around the bathroom door to look at me.
“Good Morning, sunshine!” Chrissi said with a sing-song-y tune, but she still had her toothbrush in her mouth so it sounded more like: “Goph Mawning Suhein!”
I grunted and threw a pillow at her.
“It’s the first day of school! How could it be a good morning?! It’s a BAD MORNING!” I threatened her with her life until she shut off the annoying tooth brush, but lucky me, I was too awake from coming up with ways to mutilate her to fall back asleep.
One problem with thinking of ways to maim annoying blonde siblings obsessed with their looks is that you have to come up with something that could not have been blamed on their stupidity.
Finally after lying in bed for a few more minutes I had to get up start getting ready.
I was done in about thirty minutes, leaving five minutes to get to the pit of despair known as Wood Crest High.
I grabbed a banana and Chrissi forced me in the car for school.
“Have a nice day!” My dad called out after us as he sat drinking his coffee.
I hate going to a new school. Everyone stares at you like you are sprouting five heads and purple flowers are growing out your butt.
“Alright-y, Devyn, this is your stop.” I glanced over at the swarming kids in front of the high school as Chrissi slowed the car to a stop. I counted about seventy of them wearing pink. Rawr…
“Do I have to?” I glared at Chrissi. She smiled and a tucked a piece of platinum blonde hair behind her ear.
“Yes! It will be fun.”
“But-’’
“Go!”
“I-’’
“C’mon, leave!” Chrissi opened my door for me.
“Don’t want to!”
“Devyn Alexandra Waterbury, GET OUT of my car this instant before I use unpleasant force on your sorry little butt!” So much for not making a scene. About ten or twelve people turned to stare at her.
As soon as I stormed up to the doors of the high school, my mind screamed red flag warnings and told me to crawl back into my bed.
I am not a chicken. I forced myself to walk into the rushing crowd of students and everyone fell silent to stare at me.
Okay, maybe a little.
Suddenly my eyes drifted to the ground because my shoes became very interesting.
No one is staring at you. No one is staring at-Who am I kidding?
A few more seconds and holes would’ve been burned through the top of my head.
The only problem with walking with your head down is the not-seeing-people-in front-of-you-part.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough common sense to realize this at the moment, so me and my clumsy self, walked straight into a stone wall-or at least what felt like one.
I stumbled backwards and dropped my things as my hands splayed behind me to catch my fall and I suddenly felt very dumb.
Half in anger and half in humiliation I looked up and saw a startled looking face meet my eye-level.
“Oh, sorry, I guess I should have watched where I was going.” He offered me his hand and I eyed it before letting him pull me up. Before I could even refuse, he was down again picking up my binder and strewn papers.
He handed them over to me and I just kept staring very stupidly because I was looking into the face of an oh-my-gosh-this-is-the-hottest-thing-I’ve-ever-seen kind of a guy. I liked the way his hair fell into his perfect face and the way his eyes shone when he smiled.
Was there a Crayola word to describe the color of my face? Crimson? Magenta? Burnt Sienna?
His crooked grin disappeared after I didn’t say anything.
“Well, see you later.” As quickly as he had come, he was gone. As the bell rang, a light bulb flashed above my head.
Oh, duh! I forgot to say “thank you”. Nice one Devyn. I stood there feeling like an idiot, looking like an idiot and probably being an idiot (Which is not very hard for me to pull off).
Yep. I should’ve stayed at home.
One way NOT to make friends is to be rude, look like an idiot, or have a bad combination of the two. Great first day. Note sarcasm.
******
Well I have to say, first period was…unusual. Not that I have anything against pink-y haired pigtails, but it’s just a little creepy to see them on a SUPER old teacher (I literally think she should have died already…okay well at least retired).
Anyway when I walked in I think I nearly had a heart attack.
Mrs. Mullaney screamed and threw her arms around me in a big hug.
“WE HAVEA NEW STUDENT, YEAH!!!” Not creepy at all…
She tugged on my arm and told me to stand in the front of the class room as her pinkish piggies bounced while she walked.
“Class, everyone say hello to Mrs.-’’She looked at my schedule.
“Devyn Waterbury.” After that smooth greeting I retreated to a desk in the back and practically tuned everything out-well tried to tune everything out.
It would’ve worked too, if I didn’t have some punk sitting behind me who liked to throw paper balls at your head!
Not like that’s annoying or anything. One more thing I have an extremely short fuse. Let me explain, I am about three seconds away from ripping someone’s little arm off if they don’t cut it out…
There goes another paper ball colliding with my head.
I turned sharply and glared.
“Do you have a problem, punk?” He laughed at the fact that I called him “punk” and nothing worse. I guess my head looked like a target or something.
I turned around and dealt with tiny airless crumpled papers bouncing off me until the period was over and I waited for the “punk” to get up and walk past me.
I don’t get mad a lot. I get even…
Revenge is fun. Now, I’m not saying it’s necessarily nice, but it is quite enjoyable. So maybe I “accidentally” stuck my foot out where he was walking and he “coincidently” did a face plant as I stood up. One word for that: KARMA!!!!
The thing I was dreading the most was lunch. The cafeteria was packed with different and sometimes generic cliques (jocks, geeks, preppies, “it” girls). I managed to escape the chaos by disappearing to the courtyard. I sat under an apple tree alone until I looked over to see the gorgeous guy from this morning a few feet away. From where I was sitting it looked like he was drawing, but he kept looking around, like at the buildings or a bird or whatever.
He looked sharply and met my gaze. Turd and a half!
I flushed and looked away at my lunch tray, like hey what do you know? A stinky bologna sandwich! How did that get there?
I kept my head bent down and never really noticed when he left. I just looked up one minute (only because I saw a bee, not to look for anyone or anything like that!) and he was gone.
The rest of my day zoomed past me, and before I knew I spotted Chrissi’s car. Chrissi goes to the community college right across the street so I just drive home because she usually has one of her friends drop her off later. I fumbled around with the spare key and me and my clumsy self, dropped it right into a puddle of icky goopy mud.
Crappuccino.
I should have listened to my bed when it told me not to get up.
I reached down to retrieve it when perfect little hands brought it out of the mud for me. I think the mud wanted to keep the key pretty badly because it made this sucking noise and it coated the key with a sloppy resin.
“Here you go.” Double Crappuccino.
The gorgeous guy was handing the key to me. My HERO he saved my precious key from the death grip of the evil pile of mud!!!
“So is this your car?” I nodded and finally got the courage to speak.
“Yep, either that or I’m stealing it.” I mentally slapped my forehead.
Nice Devyn now he thinks there is a fifty-fifty chance that you are a criminal.
He looked over his shoulder and then back at me.
“Oh, well I’d better be going, but I don’t think I caught your name.”
I looked at my VERY interesting car.
“Devyn.” He nodded and then took a piece of paper out of his backpack and I watched him right my name on the top of it. That doesn’t give me the creepy psycho stalker vibe at all…
“I believe this belongs to you.” I took it and stared.
Holy strawberry dino egg…It was a sketch of me, but not JUST my face. It was all the little secret parts; like my one dimple and my secret smile when I was thinking about something funny or romantic. It was absolutely amazing.
Before I could thank him, I looked up and saw that the gorgeous guy was running towards his car. Down at the bottom of the page, in neat cursive letters was a name: Mitchell Robertson.
That night as I lay in bed, I silently cursed all hot guys.
Stupid cute boys with their stupid crooked grins and their stupid hair and their stupid beautiful eyes! I am never going to be able to fall asleep now. Thanks a lot Mitchell Robertson!!!





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MyChey5 said...
Sept. 12, 2009 at 8:54 pm
Oh my goodness!!! Plz write more to this!!! i love it and im adding it as a favorite!!!!
 
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