When I step out of the car, notebook and pen in hand, I get a brief scolding from her. "Sang, when we get in there, I don't want you to walk with me. I don't want to be seen with you."
                          
I tilt my head in confusion. She's known me long enough (even if most of that time was spent ignoring me) to know what my silent question is. She huffs an annoyed sigh and answers with a glare, "Look at you, Sang. You look pathetic in your ugly skirt and stupid ass blouse. Besides, you can't even speak. I don't want to lose the opportunity of having any friends because my half sister is a complete loser." Of course, she had to add the 'half' part, because she'd never classify herself as my full-blooded sister. Clearly that's far too embarrassing for her.
                          
But I don't really care what she thinks. I think my clothes are cute and I'm confident in the way I dress, especially because this skirt just so happens to be long enough to cover the bruises and scars on my thighs. My father and Katherine made sure of that--for their sake, of course. They couldn't care less about my feelings. Some less than others.
                          
So I nod at Marie, deciding it's for the best. I don't want to be seen with someone who so clearly detests me. She nods back, not caring to utter another word, like speaking to me is beneath her. She takes speaking for granted, if you ask me. If I could speak again, I don't think I'd ever tire of hearing my own voice or saying the most pointless things. Just before she walks off to whatever destination she has in mind, my father says, "Be back within the next hour. I have to get to work soon and I don't want to be here longer than I have to be."
                          
"But daddy," Marie whines. "There are so many people here; it'll take forever to get our schedules because we'll, no doubt, be waiting in line forever. And besides, I want a little more time to meet some friends."
                          
He looks at her with that look he has reserved for only her. Sure, he's having an affair--to that I am certain--but that doesn't mean he doesn't love her. He loves her more than he could ever love me, that's for sure. "Fine, sweetheart. I'll give you an hour and a half, but I can't do any more than that. I really do have to get to work."
                          
But I know he's lying. I know his work schedule, as I've seen his calendar and overheard his conversations with his boss while cleaning. And I know he doesn't have to go into work until seven in the evening. He's not worried about his job. He's worried about his lover, his mistress, whomever she may be. I don't actually care as much as I am worried for Katherine. She's all ready physically sick enough, the medicine only making her mental illness worse, and if she finds out about his scandal, she'll most definitely only decline in her mental health. Which, in turn, only makes my life that much harder.
                          
But I also am just worried for her. While she may not love me, I'll always have some sort of love for her, no matter how small. She did take me in when she knew Father had an affair with his younger cousin, and she loved me for a time. Until I grew to look more and more like her every day--well, at least that's what she claims. She only sees my 'whore mother' when she looks at me.
                          
Father says he'll be waiting in the car doing some 'business calls' while we're inside, and tells us to go on ahead. Marie leaves with a giggle and a skip in her step. I leave with a small, happy smile. I can see my boys once again.
                          
Walking across the crowded parking lot to the front doors of the dingy school, I hear a couple wolf whistles from some of the guys hanging out with their friends. I pay them no mind, only focused on seeing my boys again and getting my schedule... and I guess my new phone. Apparently that's waiting inside for me, too.
                          
The inside of the school is just as crowded as the outside. But I can still see the dirty walls and vandalized lockers over all the tall bodies in the cramped space. Once I enter the main hallway, the crowd begins to thin out just slightly. There are tables lined up near a large glass window that overlooks the central, open-air courtyard. There's one large staircase in the middle of the hallway with parents sitting on the first few steps. Further down the hall, there is a line of vending machines and along the opposite wall stands a trophy case. But I don't see any classrooms. I can also make out the person sitting at the table labeled sophomores. But I can't find the boys, so I decide to just go ahead and grab my schedule first.