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ARI- 11 years, 7 months ago.
I slurp my cereal contentedly, attempting to brace myself for another day of dicks and quizzes I am ill-prepared for. I don't know if I'll be able to handle it. I probably won't. It may be another day of bus rides and cigarettes.
Ivy sits across me from me, her hair a wavy mess. I think she's the only one who was blessed with mom's hourglass genes. It's wasted on her, though. The only way a guy could get her attention would be if he were disguised as a test grade. There have been a few that have tried, but from what I've seen it has always resulted in a "No, thank you" that she doesn't even bother to look up for, God forbid her glasses slide down from their perfect perch.
Dawn is standing up by the coffeepot. Caffeine is the only thing I've seen pass her lips in weeks. Mom hasn't noticed, because she's been picking up more shifts lately. I hope Dawn eats something when she's out with her…whatever he is.
"Good morning, girls!" sings the ever-elusive mother upon entrance. She is wearing her robe, a smile plastered across her face. In a rare show of affection(the fact that it is demonstrated towards me is especially remarkable), she kisses me on top of my head and sits down at Dad's spot.
"Is Dad still sleeping?" I ask, confused. Even when they're in the midst of a quarrel, they usually enter the kitchen together.
"Oh, no. I was actually going tot tell you all about that…"
"Well, I have to meet my b-…my friend. Really soon. We have a quiz in Spanish this morning, so-"
"He's not your friend," Ivy interjects quietly.
"Excuse me?"
"I've heard things, that's all."
"Girls," mom interrupts, splotches coloring her neck.
"You don't know him."
"GIRLS."
"I don't think I have to, Dawn. Do you even know what-"
"HE'S GONE, ALRIGHT? He left. He's not here. We've finalized for a divorce."
Everyone stops what they are doing. Ivy's spoon is midair, I forget to chew and swallow my Cheerios whole and stare. Dawn doesn't put down the poorly insulated mug, the one that burns your hands instantly.  Mom seems just as shell-shocked as we are by her ambush of powerful words.
The Cheerios box now seems incongruous, sitting in the middle of our table. How dare it be yellow and cheery in this moment. I want to throw it across the room.
"What?" is the first word uttered after the bomb. It falls from my lips.
"It's for the best," Mom says, pushing herself up off the table and walking down the hall.
"It probably is," Dawn says after her. She places the mug on the table, the inside of her hand red.

***

I pull my black ski cap tighter over my ears. I don't wish to hear about who fucked whom or who got wasted or who got an abortion yesterday morning. None of these people have anything to do with me, and frankly, I have bigger problems.
Like how this could have happened without a goodbye. Like my sister's secret life, and this secret boyfriend.
I tap my pen over the review questions for a Tale of Two Cities.
"Show an example of doubles in the text."
I know what I'm supposed to say.  I am supposed to go on about the introduction. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, etc." But its all just too easy, and I just don't care.
"People aren't always how you think they are. You don't need this exceedingly dry, boring book to tell you that," I write in angry cursive.
Crumpled papers whisper in the hands of those with friends.
Someone taps me on the shoulder.
"Go away."
"No, it'll be really quick. What did we have for Geo-"
I turn around to see Jared, the king of everything that is holy at this school, including but not limited to, hair gel, cars, and music. He doesn't need to carry around a book. He in himself is entertainment, and if no one else around him is, he either ignores them or makes them be so.
"I know you're probably  not used to people telling you this, but if you don't fuck off I swear to God I will hurt you. Find someone else in your Geometry class."
I carry my notebook and hurry out.  I hate him, I hate everyone, I need to get out of here because I can't breathe.
***
This is what the stairwells by the dark room are for. Well, they probably weren't built for the purpose of an illicit smoke, but they are just so perfect for one, it seems impossible that they were not created as so.
"How cliché."
I whip around. Jesus Christ…
"What did I tell you?"
"You know what? You don't fool me with this."
"That's great."
"You're broken."
I don't think about my hand curling into a fist, my fist making contact with his face to a hideous crunching sound. It just sort of…happens.
"You have no right," I say, shaking my hand. There is no blood. I broke nothing but his pride, I guess, as he's cradling his jaw.
"I think you're just-"
"Don't," I say in a tired voice. "Just stop. Keep your superiority to yourself."
And with that I leave him behind. It feels good to be the one to leave.

***
I am exiled to the only place he can't go: the girl's bathroom.
"I'm worried about her," I hear from my stall.
"Isn't everyone?"
"Do you know what she said to me? She said Kieran said he 'has many girlfriends, because he has so much love in his heart.'"
"What, and she falls for this bullshit?"
"She totally does. And she doesn't listen to me. Can you convince her?"
"Probably not. She's gone. He's practically James Dean."
"Well, for Chrissakes, don't encourage her. Being good-looking isn't an excuse to be a douche. Did you know he left her at Jackson's party?"
"NO!"
"Yes. She didn't get home till 3 AM, because I was the only one who was willing to drive her, but I had to wait. If I had known she was with him, I wouldn't have had anything."
"What did her parents say?"
"Her parents are oblivious. "
"She's lucky."
"Don't say that. Dawn is anything but lucky."
…what?

Description
ARI- 11 years, 7 months ago.
I slurp my cereal contentedly, attempting to brace myself for another day of dicks and quizzes I am ill-prepared for. I don't know if I'll be able to handle it. I probably won't. It may be another day of bus rides and cigarettes.
Ivy sits across me from me, her hair a wavy mess. I think she's the only one who was blessed with mom's hourglass genes. It's wasted on her, though. The only way a guy could get her attention would be if he were disguised as a test grade. There have been a few that have tried, but from what I've seen it has always resulted in a "No, thank you" that she doesn't even bother to look up for, God forbid her glasses slide down from their perfect perch.
Dawn is standing up by the coffeepot. Caffeine is the only thing I've seen pass her lips in weeks. Mom hasn't noticed, because she's been picking up more shifts lately. I hope Dawn eats something when she's out with her…whatever he is.
"Good morning, girls!" sings the ever-elusive mother upon entrance. She is wearing her robe, a smile plastered across her face. In a rare show of affection(the fact that it is demonstrated towards me is especially remarkable), she kisses me on top of my head and sits down at Dad's spot.
"Is Dad still sleeping?" I ask, confused. Even when they're in the midst of a quarrel, they usually enter the kitchen together.
"Oh, no. I was actually going tot tell you all about that…"
"Well, I have to meet my b-…my friend. Really soon. We have a quiz in Spanish this morning, so-"
"He's not your friend," Ivy interjects quietly.
"Excuse me?"
"I've heard things, that's all."
"Girls," mom interrupts, splotches coloring her neck.
"You don't know him."
"GIRLS."
"I don't think I have to, Dawn. Do you even know what-"
"HE'S GONE, ALRIGHT? He left. He's not here. We've finalized for a divorce."
Everyone stops what they are doing. Ivy's spoon is midair, I forget to chew and swallow my Cheerios whole and stare. Dawn doesn't put down the poorly insulated mug, the one that burns your hands instantly.  Mom seems just as shell-shocked as we are by her ambush of powerful words.
The Cheerios box now seems incongruous, sitting in the middle of our table. How dare it be yellow and cheery in this moment. I want to throw it across the room.
"What?" is the first word uttered after the bomb. It falls from my lips.
"It's for the best," Mom says, pushing herself up off the table and walking down the hall.
"It probably is," Dawn says after her. She places the mug on the table, the inside of her hand red.

***

I pull my black ski cap tighter over my ears. I don't wish to hear about who fucked whom or who got wasted or who got an abortion yesterday morning. None of these people have anything to do with me, and frankly, I have bigger problems.
Like how this could have happened without a goodbye. Like my sister's secret life, and this secret boyfriend.
I tap my pen over the review questions for a Tale of Two Cities.
"Show an example of doubles in the text."
I know what I'm supposed to say.  I am supposed to go on about the introduction. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, etc." But its all just too easy, and I just don't care.
"People aren't always how you think they are. You don't need this exceedingly dry, boring book to tell you that," I write in angry cursive.
Crumpled papers whisper in the hands of those with friends.
Someone taps me on the shoulder.
"Go away."
"No, it'll be really quick. What did we have for Geo-"
I turn around to see Jared, the king of everything that is holy at this school, including but not limited to, hair gel, cars, and music. He doesn't need to carry around a book. He in himself is entertainment, and if no one else around him is, he either ignores them or makes them be so.
"I know you're probably  not used to people telling you this, but if you don't fuck off I swear to God I will hurt you. Find someone else in your Geometry class."
I carry my notebook and hurry out.  I hate him, I hate everyone, I need to get out of here because I can't breathe.
***
This is what the stairwells by the dark room are for. Well, they probably weren't built for the purpose of an illicit smoke, but they are just so perfect for one, it seems impossible that they were not created as so.
"How cliché."
I whip around. Jesus Christ…
"What did I tell you?"
"You know what? You don't fool me with this."
"That's great."
"You're broken."
I don't think about my hand curling into a fist, my fist making contact with his face to a hideous crunching sound. It just sort of…happens.
"You have no right," I say, shaking my hand. There is no blood. I broke nothing but his pride, I guess, as he's cradling his jaw.
"I think you're just-"
"Don't," I say in a tired voice. "Just stop. Keep your superiority to yourself."
And with that I leave him behind. It feels good to be the one to leave.

***
I am exiled to the only place he can't go: the girl's bathroom.
"I'm worried about her," I hear from my stall.
"Isn't everyone?"
"Do you know what she said to me? She said Kieran said he 'has many girlfriends, because he has so much love in his heart.'"
"What, and she falls for this bullshit?"
"She totally does. And she doesn't listen to me. Can you convince her?"
"Probably not. She's gone. He's practically James Dean."
"Well, for Chrissakes, don't encourage her. Being good-looking isn't an excuse to be a douche. Did you know he left her at Jackson's party?"
"NO!"
"Yes. She didn't get home till 3 AM, because I was the only one who was willing to drive her, but I had to wait. If I had known she was with him, I wouldn't have had anything."
"What did her parents say?"
"Her parents are oblivious. "
"She's lucky."
"Don't say that. Dawn is anything but lucky."
…what?