A Hidden Picture

Four

~ Annalise

Music has always been a big comfort to me.

It drowns out the sounds of the life spinning around me.

It helps remind me that I'm still capable of feeling other emotions that I don't find myself feeling often. That they're still there.

My headphones are lodged in my ears, blocking my eardrums from picking up any sounds from outside my room.

The sound of arguing gets watered down. The worries getting submerged beneath the sound waves.

I'm currently reading one of the romance books I usually keep hidden under my bed.

Reading smut actually works as a good distraction. Something I discovered at the ripe age of thirteen. What a great first experience that was.

I groan as they continue yelling. A girl can't even read some hot smut in peace. I increase the sound of the music.

Screaming, yelling, music; a learned lullaby.

~

It's raining outside today.

My hood is pulled up over my head and I'm slouched in my seat. We're supposed to be doing the worksheet Mrs. Dawson passed out. Except I'm more interested in the sound of the rain patting against the windows and the smell of weed wafting off the guy sitting next to me.

Like dude, it's seven in the morning, can't you smoke after school or some shit? Fucking reeks.

My head is rested on my hand as I stare out the window and try to ignore the stench of the guy next to me.

The smell makes my mind wander. I wonder what my sister's doing right now.

Maybe today she's hanging out with a guy twice her age. Or maybe her and mom are fighting right now. Maybe she's doing drugs. Maybe she's in fucking Canada. Who knows at this point.

I find myself not caring.

"Ms. Salinas." My eyes widen when I turn my gaze to Mrs. Dawson looking at me from her desk at the front of the class.

"The worksheet," she reminds me.

I nod and pick up my pencil, turning my gaze to the first problem.

Glancing to the front of the room, I see Reed. He has wide shoulders and tall slim frame. I can't believe the stupid shit got me detention.

Why the hell was he even fucking up someone's sneakers?

Do I want to know? Probably not.

He's most likely getting revenge over something ridiculous.

Suddenly he turns his head and glances back to me. I turn my gaze to the paper on my desk immediately.

What if he thinks I was checking him out? God, no. His ego seems like it's already too big.

When the bell rings, I'm one of the last to leave the classroom.

I feel like a walking zombie right now. My eyes are on the verge of closing. Keeping my eyelids open is a very difficult task at the moment.

The idea of a nap right now sounds delectable. Absolutely glorious. I could come at the thought.

I have to stifle my laugh. Okay maybe not come, but the point is made: I really want to nap.

When I see Reed in the hallway a few periods later he holds eye contact and the corner of his mouth twitches in his effort not to smile.

I keep walking.