Delude

I stared at the ceiling, blinking into the darkness, and rolled over. The numbers on the digital clock on my bedside table were blurry; I figured it was well after midnight anyway. I groaned and bit my lip, trying to ease myself back to sleep.

If I didn’t sleep now, I wouldn’t be getting up later when I needed to. Summer was over and that meant back to school. The thought made me shudder in disgust.

It wasn’t that I hated school. Well, that’s not true. I did. I loathed having to wake at the crack of dawn, get dressed blindly, and barely have anything to eat before I went out into the cold air.

What I forgot to mention is that I’m too good to take the bus. Who likes to sit in a small ass seat with some fat kid? I’d likely suffocate before I got to school anyway; no one at Grandview would notice.

I glanced at the clock again.

6:15AM.

I sighed. I had to get up soon. I stared over at the large window in my room, the curtain closed tightly so no light could get in. I listened closely for my mother’s footsteps.

My parents had taken to telling me that I could get up on my own. After all, I was seventeen now. I don’t really know why they thought I should still be treated like a baby.

They’d always encouraged me to do things for myself because, as they so eloquently put it, they weren’t going to be around forever. It was absurd, stupid, and preposterous.

I shivered as I slipped out of bed and the cold slithered from my feet all the way up to my shoulders. I started to dress mechanically; white blouse with a striped vest and a pair of jeans and some crappy yet comfortable sneakers.

I walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light. I turned on the sink, splashed my face with cold water, and stared at my reflection; my grey eyes were shiny and my brown hair was tangled with knots. I ran a hand through the front, sighing when I got stuck.

After I fixed my hair the way I liked it, I turned off the light and left my room. My nose twitched as I smelled something cooking when I came down the stairs from the second-floor landing.

My mom waved a spatula at me from the kitchen as I sat at the table. I yawned widely and I heard her click her teeth together impatiently.

“Morning,” I mumbled. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Eggs,” my mom said flatly. “Want some?”

I shook my head and yawned again.

“What time did you get to sleep?”

“Late,” was all I said. I knew what she was getting at.

“You need to sleep decently on school nights,” she said disapprovingly. “Casey, are you even listening to me?”

With only two hours of sleep, my mind had begun to shut down, and as my mother spoke shrilly to me, I jumped.

“I’m listening,” I said.

As if on cue my cell phone rang, filling the room with a heavy guitar solo that effectively startled my mother so much that she dropped the pan she was holding. She scowled at me.

“I hate that thing.” She didn’t understand phones like that.

“It’s just a text,” I muttered, flipping open my phone.

Your mom looks pissed, C. Let’s get going.

“My ride’s here,” I said, standing. “See you later.”

My mother just waved an empty eggshell at me as I slid out the back door.