t w o

                                    

                                          
     Knock knock
     "Wake up, Pothead. You're late." 
     I fly up from my pillow and try to check the time on my phone. It's dead.. Probably from me playing Faye Webster all night. I flip over in my bed to look at my clock. 6:49am. Shit. I roll out of bed and run down the hall to the bathroom. I curse as I see Ella's curling iron, makeup, and perfumes lining the sink counter. Moving everything out of the way, I make a mental note to thump her later. Living with Ella seemed to be a curse more than a blessing. I brush my teeth, long enough for my breath to freshen, but short enough to where my teeth aren't dirty, and I'm not extremely late.
     Time is moving like it has somewhere to be, just like I'm moving like I have somewhere to be. 
     Steinford Academy's uniform consists of a green and blue plaid skirt, Mary Janes, a white button-up, and a black collared jacket with its embroidered crest. God, this is going to make me look like Harry Potter. The rest of my outfit choices were simple, I didn't want to over or underdress on my first day. My hair is down and straight. Long strands of brown, stopping mid back. My face is bare except for mascara and lip gloss. Acne was never a problem for me, so I never needed any fancy makeup, Ella on the other hand..
     Finishing up, and taking the steps two at a time, I see that no one is home. Thank God. I did not want to see anyone after last night. I grab an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and head outside to the car. Ella sits inside with her mirror down, adding more makeup. Ella's in the process of getting her permit so she'll be driving us to school. For the extra practice, I guess. I've never been a big fan of driving, (mostly because I can't park).
     As I open, get in, and close the door, Ella mutters something under her breath. I flash her a three-second warning to not start with me today.
     On the road to school, we said nothing. She played Taylor Swift. I'm not much of a Taylor fan, simply because everyone knows Olivia Rodrigo was the better of the two anyway. Yes, I said it. Fight me. And yes, it's the angst. There's also something very sad about a middle-aged woman still singing about heartbreak. 
     I look over to see Ella dressed exactly like me. This is a drag.. Where's the personality in this? In the backseat, I grab my Dr. Martin's. I'm all for the team look but, I'm for personalization even more. In the passenger seat, I swap my Mary Janes for my boots. This looks so much better.
     "Um, what are you doing?" Ella asks.
     "Isn't it obvious?" 
     "You're violating the dress code." she spits through closed teeth.
     "Violate this code." You've guessed it. Bird finger.
      She scoffs and rolls her eyes. 
      From what I hear, Steinford Academy isn't your average public school with free dress privileges. It's a wannabe prestigious institution that thinks they're a hot shot because they have plaid bottoms, a crest, and a pledge. It's our first day. Ella and I are new year transfers from another county. We had to move schools due to our parental/housing situation, but we should be back in a couple of months.