Just an Awkward Mess...

Leslie had gone the rest of the week without dealing with John. And she was thankful. She had felt bad after snapping on him the other day, but she soon got over the guilt and continued on with her usual routine. 

The bell was 6 minutes away from ringing as Leslie sat in her last class of the day. Her English-Lit teacher was droning on about something they had learned plenty times before. She tapped her pencil to the beat of the song in her head. 

"The average sentence should be 20 words long.  Long sentences are useful for presenting involved concepts. Shorter sentences are more emphatic; they can state clear, crisp thoughts.". 

Leslie heard the bell ring and she hopped out of her chair, bumping her hand against someone. She noticed that it was the boy who John had been talking to the other day. 

"Ay! It's Ms. Feisty." He winked at her and her cheeks turned a light red color. But she didn't let him see that and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Yeah, whatever."

She stood outside of the school, waiting on her brother to walk out. If he wasn't out there in the next 5 minutes, she planned to leave him and walk home alone. She took a deep breath in and began to play with her fingers. Peter had 2 minutes left and Leslie went on and decided that he wasn't coming. He was probably getting into something that he knew he shouldn't be getting into.

Leslie walked across the street to the sidewalk without paying any attention to cars that might have been coming. If she got hit, she had no one to blame but herself. With each step she took, Leslie's keys jingled around her neck. A red truck  slowed down by her and a window was rolled down. 

"Hey there little honey, wanna take a ride with us?" A few laughs were heard and soon Peter's face was shown. 

"Tell mom that I'm with the guys."

Leslie nodded her head and continued to walk home, ignoring the laughs still heard by Peter's friends. 

"Ma! I'm home. Peter told me to tell you that he's with the guys." 

Leslie walked up into her room. It was the typical teenage girls room. It had bunches of posters of people, the walls were orange; her favorite color and the bed was unmade. It was never made, unless she was trying to impress someone which was rarely. 

Leslie checked what time it was. 3:20. She could take a little nap. 

As soon as she closed her eyes, Leslie felt as if she were opening them. It was 4:37 and her mother was looking frantically over her. 

"It's Peter....he's in jail."