Falling For A Criminal

Falling For A Criminal - Chapter Four*

“I don't care what the reason was! You still left!”

“And your point is?”

“Don't back-sass me! I'm your mother!”

“Oh really? You sure as hell don't act like it.”

Sighing, I shook my head and brought my plate to the sink. It was only seven fifteen; the same argument has been going on since five-fifteen—when my alarm clock went off. To add on to my already long lists of stress and aggravating things, because of Trace and his constant nagging, I didn't fall asleep until at least four, and that means the mean side of me was going to show in school. Not mean, per se, but the smallest thing is going to be able to annoy me today, and I hate being irritable in school. At home? That's another story, especiallysince my brother is back and is causing such an uproar in the house.

So, after two hours of listening to their constant, repetitive arguing, I decided I'd just head to school early and finish the homework that I didn't get the chance to last night. Trace wouldn't stop bothering me about the whole 'Guy In My Window' situation, and that made it both impossible to finish my homework, let alone sleep. I was about to make him go sleep on the couch as opposed to my room, but that would have given him another reason to complain, and I really wasn't up for hearing it. After having two different guys break into your room, two days, back to back, you wouldn't really be all that happy, either.

I walked over to the front door and grabbed my black book bag off of the floor; putting it on over my coat; my only cover from the hideous uniform that I was required to wear everyday. It was pretty much every Asian girls nightmare; the green and black pleated skirt, the white button down with matching tie and a black blazer over it. I didn't even go to a private school, so why we were forced to wear uniforms was completely beyond me. Maybe something with the budget, but then again, that doesn't make sense. What would the money our parents spend have anything to do with the money that the school gets? I shook it off, not really feeling like thinking of anything trivial this early in the morning.

Looking back at my mom, I saw her with her hand on her face; something she did when she was aggravated. “Well, I'll be off to school now.” No one answered—not that I expected them to when they were in such a heated discussion. It would probably still be going when I got back from school, but I'd avoid that bridge when I came to it. I honestly think that this argument could have ended hours ago, but since they were both the kinds of people who fought for attention, there was no doubt in my mind that this was going to be a long argument—and again, for no reason.

I quickly shut the door behind me and began the freezing commute to school. The snow was up to my ankles, and I thanked the school for not making us wear any specific kind of shoes. If they had, the snow would be in my shoes as opposed to sticking to the outside. Now, I wasn't as stupid as most girls who wore—or bought—hundred dollars UGS and then ruined them in the snow. Bargain or not, as long as my feet were warm, I didn't care what I wore. 'Which is why I'm such an outcast. . .'

Shaking my head, I brought my headphones up to my ears and listened to the song Bring Me To Life. Rock music calmed me down—and no, I'm not one of those cliché girls who only says that to sound cool. I genuinely prefer rock over any other kind of music, though I'm open to listen to anything. Variety keeps the brain healthy, or some crap like that.

The snow around me began to blow around in the breeze, making me shiver. My torso was warm and protected, but my legs were freezing in this skirt. Knee length or not, I had skinny legs; I was going to get cold no matter what I wore!

At this point, I would pretty much do whatever I had to to stop focusing on how cold my legs were, so I looked up at the clouds and watched as more snow slowly began to fall. The small flakes of white cascaded in a disarray and landed on the ground; making the piles of snow even bigger than they needed to be. I couldn't deny that it was pretty, but I'd enjoy it a bit more if the price of seeing it wasn't losing the feeling in my body. Though, snowball fights were definitely epic with Cassie; she never let a winter go by when we didn't have at least one snow ball fight—and I mean a real one; not a cheap 'I throw one, you throw one'. She wanted wars, and somehow, she always talked me into getting into one with her. But who was I to complain? Snowball fights were like a right of passage; not liking them would be almost inhumane! So, every year, towards the middle of winter, we'd have the biggest brawl with the snow, most of the times, resulting in some bruising, but that made it all the more interesting.