Painting Flowers

What is this emotion people call “Love”? It’s just a mediocre word; so – so. I never really “dated” anyone. Well, I only dated one girl, but that was a “just friends” date. I never liked guys. I mean, I used to have some guy friends, but some of them were gay and I loved them in a brother – sister way. If that even makes sense.

Anyway, I continued to blast “She’s A Lady” by Forever The Sickest Kids through my ears. I was sitting in the front seat of my mom’s expensive sports car. My mom was currently driving me to my new school. I didn’t really mind going to an all girls’ school. Maybe, I’ll get an actual girlfriend, I thought as Mom continued to drive.

“Charlene,” Mother said flatly. I took my headphones off my ears and set them on my neck.
“Yeah?” I asked, tugging my ponytail of long, thick blonde hair.
“I’m sorry that your father and I took your life away from you,” Mom said. What is she talking about? I asked myself mentally.

“You know, with the all girls’ school and everything.” She said, awkwardly shifting her weight in her seat. I rubbed the back of my neck with my right and.
“Oh.” I said, frowning at my black Converse.
“Yeah… Listen, I’m really sorry, but you need your studies. And you seem sort of depressed.” She said.

I had to force a laugh at that. I wasn’t depressed; the exact opposite, in fact.
“Mom, I’m just going to St. Amanda’s till I go to college. I still love you and Dad.” I am such a liar. I didn’t love my parents! I only liked them like a roommate, not family members! I would have told Mom that, but I just bit my tongue and then adjusted my black – rimmed glasses.

Mom suddenly stopped the car. She got out. I followed suit. We were at my new school and home. I sighed as I helped Mom get my suitcases out of the trunk of her car.
I slung my backpack onto my shoulder and followed Mom into the school. We went into the head mistress’ office. After she and Mom had a short conversation, Mom left, and the head mistress took me to my room.

Along the way, I passed a girl. She was rather… gorgeous. I stopped staring. After all, that girl would think I’m some creeper or stalker. The head mistress guided me to my new room. The walls were painted white. There was some furniture. I looked around some more. There were two beds. One empty. One taken.

“Here is your room,” the old woman said. I nodded, grabbing one of my bags.
“Okay,” I said as I laid my sheets down on my bed.
“Your roommate’s name is Kristen. She’s in her classes right now.” The head mistress said. I nodded.

She left and I continued to unpack. Once I finished, I unloaded some of my “street clothes” and uniforms into a brown dresser.
A soft knock came from the doorway. I looked up from my pile of clothes and saw a redhead standing in the doorway.

Her skirt appeared to be much shorter than it really should be. And some of the buttons of her shirt were undone. Oh, great. I’ve got a slut for a roommate. I’m so excited. Note the sarcasm.
“Hey,” the redhead said, popping her gum. Ugh. I hate it when people chump on their gum loudly and start popping it.

It just gets under my skin.

“Hi,” I said, tightly holding a book I just picked.
“I’m Valerie and you are?” Valerie asked, twirling a strand of her curly hair with one of her fingers.
“I’m Charlene, but call me Charlie.” I said, sitting down on my bed.

“Oh, nice name. So, anyways, I’m gonna go out with my boyfriend. See ya, Charles.” Valerie said, grabbing a teeny tiny sweater.
“It’s Charlie!” I yelled as she strutted out of our room. “It’s just Charlie.” I muttered. I picked up a book and leaned back against my pillows, cracking the book open as I did so.

Yay. My first day here and I already hate someone. Oh joy.