Rolling Thunder

Chapter 2- He's Pretty Juvenile Delinquent-y

Chapter 2- He's Pretty Juvenile Delinquent-y

Wren's Point of View

“Wren, do you know what came in the mail yesterday?” My mother asks me the following morning, bursting into my upstairs bedroom.

“Um, an acceptance letter from Duke?” I ask hopefully, looking up at her in the mirror as I wrap another strand of my long, brown hair around my curling wand.

“No, not an acceptance letter from Duke,” She flatly denies with a small scoff. “If you keep this up, the only letter from Duke you’ll be getting is a rejection letter,” She adds.

“Mother, what are you talking about?” I question with a small sigh as I continue to curl my hair. It’s pretty straight on its own but I like for it to be wavy, so this is a routine thing.

“Your report card came,” My mother vaguely reports, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at me in the mirror as if she’s just found out that I’ve committed murder.

“Is that a bad thing?” I wonder, raising my eyebrows in confusion.

“You have a ‘B’ in English, Wren- a ‘B’!” She frustratedly exclaims.

“Yeah, I know that,” I assure her with an inaudible sigh. “It’s only because I missed a few of the assignment in there a couple of weeks ago when I was sick,” I tell her.

“Just because you’re sick, that doesn’t mean that you don’t have to do your work, Wren,” She scolds. “Do you honestly think that you’ll get into Duke by failing English?”

“A ‘B’ is not failing, mother,” I remind her, avoiding the question. Honestly, I don’t want to go to Duke but that’s where she and my dad went, so they want me to as well.

“It might as well be,” My mother snaps then, shaking her head in disappointment. “You do know that this is unacceptable, yes?”

“I know,” I confirm with a nod. “I’ll just talk to Mr. Jenkins today and ask him about some kind of extra credit work or something.”

“Good,” She replies, the frown on her face lessening. “Is that what you’re wearing to school?” She wonders, looking at my outfit.

“Is there something wrong with it?” I wonder, looking down at the clothes that I randomly pulled from my closet and put on today.

I’ve never really been the type of girl who gets super dressed and made up just to go to school because that seems kind of pointless and stupid to me. I mean, I go there to learn (and also because it’s the law) not to impress anyone. Not that I go to school looking like a total slob or anything; I just dress pretty casually, that’s all. That being said, I am wearing a pair of black skinny jeans with a baseball tee that has grey ¾ sleeves and a mint green front and back along with a pair of vans that match the shirt. As for make-up, I’m wearing a little bit of mascara and that’s all.

“No, I guess not,” My mom responds and I suppress the urge to roll my eyes because I know doing that will just warrant a lecture. “Do you need me to take you to school today?” She offers.

“No, that’s alright,” I decline her offer, shaking my head. “Hallie’s coming to get me in a little bit,” I inform her, referring to my best friend.

Usually, I drive myself to school but some random asshole keyed my car at school yesterday for no apparent reason, so it’s in the shop getting repaired. I don’t think that it’s supposed to take all that long to get a scratch repaired but apparently it was so deep that I need a whole new paint job. That’s what happening and hopefully, I’ll have my car back sometime after school today.