BORING

 

 By the time I got home, my body felt like it was made of wet cement. My shoes hit the floor with a dull thud the second I stepped into my apartment, and my backpack followed, sliding down my shoulder and collapsing in a sad heap by the door.

 My fridge hummed lazily when I opened it. I got half a carton of orange juice that I left maybe probably last night, a sad-looking apple, and the remains of last night’s pasta which  stared back at me. Yup gourmet dining at its finest. I tossed the pasta into the microwave, listening to the dull buzz as I took off my jacket and let it hang from the back of a chair.

 When the microwave dinged, I hurriedly plopped down on the couch and dug in, barely tasting a thing. It was fuel nothing more, nothing less not you whole favorite kind of pasta trust me. It was survival on autopilot kind of pasta you just take it to fill your stomach.

 When the plate was empty, I stared at it for a long second before setting it aside. My eyelids were already heavy, and my muscles were aching from the rough day I had. I dragged myself toward the bed, collapsing onto it face-first. The sheets smelled faintly of detergent and sleep, and for once, I didn’t care how twisted they were.

 “Another suffering passed…” I mumbled into the pillow, a weak, sarcastic smile curling at my lips. “Not an easy one though.”

 The world faded before I could finish the thought of how annoying it is.

 The next sound I heard was the violent scream of my alarm.

 “WHAT THE ….” I jolted upright, my heart thundering in my chest. “Are you kidding me?”

 The numbers on the screen glared back at me: 6:00 a.m.

 I squinted, then groaned. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me… I set it an hour early, today hasn't even started fully and am already hating it.”

 I fell back onto the bed dramatically, staring up at the ceiling as if it had answers. My body begged me to close my eyes again, but I knew if I did, I’d never get up. So instead, I forced myself upright and swung my legs over the side.

 “Rise and shine, dumbass,” I muttered, rubbing sleep from my eyes. “You did this to yourself.”

 The buzzing of my phone pulled me out of my misery. It was vibrating violently against the nightstand,I squished my eye at the screen to get a better look, it was flashing a familiar name, without even looking, I swiped to answer.

 “Liiiiiiilian!” Mia’s voice rang into my ear like the caffeinated parrot she was.

 “Jesus Christ,” I groaned, pressing the phone slightly away. “Do you have to yell like the world’s ending?”

 “It is ending… guess what I think I overslept, I can’t find my history homework, and I think Jonah’s ghosting us again.”

 I rubbed my temple, too tired to care about anything that's dramatic before sunrise. “Mia, it’s literally six in the morning, so please.”

 “Six-oh-three, actually,” she chirped, smart ass. “Which means you’re awake and that’s all that matters.”

 “No, what matters is that I set my alarm wrong and now I hate myself.”

 She giggled. “I told you not to mess with the settings last night.”

 “You also told me we should try that new sushi place that made you throw up for two days, so forgive me if I don’t consider you the pinnacle of wisdom.” I shot back.

 “ okay that's fair,” she admitted. “But hey, since you’re awake, you can help me figure out what I’m wearing. Do you think plaid says academic weapon or grandma’s tablecloth?”

 I groaned into my pillow. “Mia,I swear I’m hanging up.”

 “Don’t you dare! You have to help a friend coordinate her outfits.”

 “You’re acting like we’re going to a fashion show, not school.”

 “Same thing,” she said, completely serious.

 I couldn’t help but laugh. That was Mia for you, the girl is  a walking ball of chaos and sunshine. The complete opposite of me actually and maybe that’s why we worked.

 “Fine,” I said finally, swinging my legs off the bed. “Wear the plaid, It’s peak grandma chic.”

 “Ugh, you’re no help.” she groaned.

 “And yet, you keep calling me.”

 “Because I love you, obviously.”

 “Obviously,” I muttered with a small smile. “Now go find your homework before you combust.”

 “Roger that, See you soon!”

 “Yeah, yeah .. bye, get out of my phone.”

 I ended the call and let the phone fall to the bed. For a second, the apartment was silent again, the kind of silence that always felt heavy. But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. I had a day to survive.

 I dragged myself into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, letting it shock me awake. A quick shower later, I towel-dried my hair and stared at my reflection in my fogged-up mirror. I always had the same tired eyes, same messy hair. Am still the same girl just trying to make it through another day.

 I pulled on my favorite T-shirt,  a black, slightly oversized one with bold white letters across the front that read: HATE ALL FUCKERS.

 It always gets a few stares at school and I don't mind the attention, which was precisely why I loved it.

 “Yeah,” I muttered to myself, grinning faintly at my reflection. “That’ll get a laugh.”

I wore my Jeans check, sneakers check, and yeah my  jacket pheww all done with the essentials.

 I glanced at the clock and froze.

 “Shit.”

It was  7:55. I was five minutes late already or would be, if I didn’t teleport. And since teleportation still wasn’t an option, I had to improvise.

 “Okay, okay, not the end of the world,” I muttered, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. “Late is the new on time.” now even waking up early was just stupid I still went late.

 I locked my house door behind me and jogged down the steps two at a time. Normally, I’d make a beeline for the bus stop, but there was no way I was surviving the day without caffeine. And if I was already late, what difference would five more minutes make? Haha.

 The morning air was crisp, biting at my cheeks as I walked quickly toward Ace’s that's the name of  the coffee shop where I worked. The “ACE” sign was still dark, the shop only just opening for the early commuters. Mr. Rourke always left the back door unlocked for staff, so I slipped in like I belonged because, well, I did.

 The smell hit me immediatel, it was warm, comforting, just familiar the way I like it  a mix of espresso and freshly baked croissants, It almost felt like home, Almost.

 “Morning, kid,” Mr. Rourke said, glancing up from the espresso machine.

 “Morning,” I said, heading straight for the counter. “please, I need caffeine before I commit a crime.”

 “Rough morning huh?” he asked me with a grin.

 “Don’t even get my dumbass started, I woke up an hour early by accident.”

 “Oouch.” He chuckled. “ I know the feeling, talking from experience.”

 “Exactly why I need coffee.”

 He nodded toward the machine. “Go ahead and help yourself, you know the way round.”

 I didn’t need to be told twice, Within minutes, I had a steaming cup of dark roast in my hands, it was black and bitter, my perfect kindof coffee hmm and it smells nice too, I took a long sip and sighed like a junkie getting a fix.

 “Better?” he asked.

 “Barely human,” I said, then corrected myself. “Well… as human as I’m willing to be before eight a.m.”

 “Try not to scare the customers today,” he teased.

 “No promises.” I said with a salute.

 I waved him a  goodbye and stepped back out into the morning rush. The streets was busier now, students were racing for buses, cars honking impatiently, the whole city groaning awake. I sipped my coffee as I walked, my steps a little slower now that I’d resigned myself to being late.

 I got a text from Mia halfway there.

 Mia: running late. meet me by the front steps.

 Me: already late, which is fine, everything’s fine.

 Mia: 😂 classic us i swear.

 I slipped my phone back into my pocket, the ghost of a smile tugging at my lips. As much as I complained, I didn’t hate mornings like this with  the chaos, the sarcasm, the routine. It was kind of predictable and predictable was safe. Sue me if you want to.

 I had no idea how quickly that was about to change.

 By the time the school gates came into view, my coffee was half gone, my pulse had settled, and my sarcastic shield was firmly in place. Another day, another round of pretending everything was fine.

 I couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that something everything  was about to shift. And once it did, nothing would ever go back to the way it was not like am being my stupid self but the feeling was there.