Chapter 14- Exploit me, abuse me, insult me

I can't believe this. It is so unfair. The clock clearly read 8:08, and yet that stupid oldie had to send me to the coordinator.

Shut up, it's your own fault for being late. Again. My conscience reminded me as graciously as ever.

Okay I know it's my fault. But I always pay attention in classes, always do my homework, always do my best. Why do I have to be punished like this? In front of everyone, on top of that. Why did they have to keep staring at me? Couldn't they pretend like nothing was happening?

As I got down the stairs, on my way to Mrs. Kennedy's office, millions of frustrating thoughts filled my head.

I hate school. I hate mornings. I hate me. Why can't I ever be on time? This is all my fault.

I knocked on her door, which, to my luck, was closed on this particular morning. Of course. She always leaves it open...

"Come in!" She called from inside.

I meekly turned the doorknob, and got in the office. "Hi. Good morning."

Mrs. Kennedy tore her gaze from the pile of papers she had in front of herself to look at me with a weary expression. Yeah, I didn't want to see you this early either, so we could just get this over with, I thought for the both of us.

"Late again, Ella?" She asked, holding out her hand for me to place my tardy note in.

"Unfortunately." I gave her the paper along with my unnecessary answer, trying not to show how ashamed I felt. It wasn't big news that I was a late student. She would have known by now, as this was the fourth and last year I'd be attending this school, and probably hundredth time of handing her a tardy note to sign.

She sighed, signing her name on the paper. This whole bureaucracy was so pointless, it only made all of us waste our time. The teacher's time, Mrs. Kennedy's, who was clearly busy before I came here, and my own. I could have been upstairs learning right now, preparing myself to be someone in this life. Who knows? Maybe even the next Bill Gates. But no, I had to get that crappy signature (which wasn't crappy at all, actually, considering her neat hand-writing) from the coordinator in order to be allowed in class.

That, moms and dads, is our school. Cue the applause, please.

Are you done talking to yourself? No one can hear you, you know. And it's not like you're ever going to say all of this out loud, is it? It's not going to make any difference.

Yeah, I know.

"Here you go, dear." The lady handed me back the now signed piece of paper.

"Thank you." I said, folding and stuffing it in a side pocket from my backpack.

"And Ella," she continued as I took a few steps towards the door, before turning to her again "as much as I like you, I hope not to see you in my office again so soon."

"I hope so too." I answered her with a tight smile to try and match her true one.

After that wondrous morning start, I had to, one more time, climb those three flights of stairs to get back to class. And once again, I had to run in order to not miss any more of the lecture.

To make things less heavy for myself, I pictured a crowd chanting my name, cheering me up so that I would be able to skip those steps faster. As that didn't do the job, I changed my scenario from an excited crowd to a crazy maniac chasing after me with a knife. Quirky, I know, but it worked.

I could have just taken the elevator to get there, but it would most definitely delay me even more, and I could use some exercise.

Reaching the so coveted last step, I landed on the third floor with a thump, before dashing out towards the door of my first missed class of the week. Oh, how excited was I to see Mr. Myers again, with a signed note to hand in this time.

Trying to compose myself and even out my breathing and disheveled hair so that people wouldn't think I got into a fight with a wild boar on the way, I gripped my backpack tightly and took my first step into the room, using the other hand to take out the note from inside the pocket. I handed it to the teacher as he spoke tediously about the economic conflict between China and the United States.

Well, at least they are famous for their commercial means and not for being late to class everytime, I thought childishly as my eyes took in the amount of people that stared at me for a few seconds, before turning their attention back to what they were doing before. And that didn't necessarily mean listening to Mr. Myers.



Amongst those curious students was Collin, staring intently at me as I walked towards the only seat still available, this day in special, situated in the back of the class.



I mentally cringed, thinking of how I would have to squint in order to see at least more than just a big pile of blurs on the board. I really had to increase the strength of my glasses at the ophthalmologist. If only my lenses weren't so expensive...



I finally sat on the chair and took out my book and binder from my bag. As I opened each, I could see from my peripheral vision Collin's head turned in my direction. Looking up, I glanced at him to see that he was indeed, very much, bluntly staring at me. And he didn't stop once we made eye contact, which unnerved me even more. I hated it when people didn't look away when caught staring at someone. Hello? It's rude!



After a staring match that only lasted about five seconds, for I didn't feel comfortable with being watched and letting the person know about it, I averted my gaze down to the material on my desk.



He must be musing on how much of a weirdo I am. Always late, never tries to make any kind of social interaction with anyone unless it's for study purposes...

Way to go, you have managed to make someone that doesn't even know you assume you're strange. And he's not wrong. My subconscious seemed to be quite perky today.

Whatever, why should I care about what he thinks? It's not like he's a potential future love interest, anyway. Way out of my league, that one. And, must I remind you that I am not looking for anyone right now and shouldn't even be having such thoughts? So, I'm not in the slightest bit interested in him, nor do I care about his thoughts regarding me. That is, if those even exist.

Yeah, okay. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Ugh.

The remnant time of the class seemed to drag itself at the pace of a crippled tortoise, demanding me to forcefully keep my eyelids open.

Some matches would come in handy right now.

That topic wasn't exactly my vibe at the time. I've always been more of a grammar and literature kind of girl. Feuds between countries didn't interest me in the least bit. They were always about money or power anyway.

However, no matter how great my exhaustion was, I didn't allow myself to not pay attention and get behind on the subject. And so naturally, as usual, questions about said topic arose in my head. Still feeling embarrassed about being late on a regular basis and probably being taken as lazy and irresponsible by some of my peers and the teacher himself though, I didn't have the courage to voice my queries. Maybe it was childish of me, but I didn't care. I wouldn't expose myself by being noticed again and give room to judgments anymore than I already had.

Was it shyness? Perhaps. Was it the fear of being on the spotlight? Definitely. It was quite simple for me, when not given too much attention from strangers, my brain wouldn't start working so intensely and coming up with possible negative thoughts they might be having about me.

Exploit me, abuse me, insult me and we'll still be fine. Just don't make yourself mysterious and unreadable to me. I need to know what you are thinking, what to do to attend expectations.

I have always been like this, ever since I can remember. It was tiring, of course, but I didn't know any other way to live.

To pull me out of the black hole that I was dwelling on, the bell rang, indicating a fraction of my life, of everybody's lives, had passed before my eyes. And we never even gave much thought to it, did we?

No, we didn't.