Times Change., chapter 4
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About a week later, when I was still settling in, I was watching telly with dad when we heard a shriek. As fast as we could, we charged up to the upstairs bathroom where mom was, fearing the worst. Instead, she came out grinning her head off, holding a pregnancy test. "No way... " started dad, starting to grin himself. Mom nodded, and showed him the positive blue line. He whooped, and mom threw herself at him. And then, EW, they made out.
"Uhh, hello, remember I'm watching you here!" I said, shielding my eyes. "What's the matter?" I asked. Dad laughed, and told me. When he finished, he looked at me, happily. I couldn't upset him now, so I smiled, and acted like it was brilliant.
"And tomorrow, you and I are going to get you registered at a high school! You've missed too much school lately. It'll take you ages to catch up, but, oh well." Said Billie.
The next day dad and I ventured into the local high school to sign me up. I moaned all the way. I mean, like, I'm 15, I shouldn't have to go to school now. I deserve the freedom of the outside world. Dad was wearing his disguise, a blonde wig, and blue sunglasses. He dropped me off a block away from the place. "Now, are you okay about this? I can come in with you if you want?" said dad, looking concerned.
"Dad! I told you, I'll be fine. I need some friends anyway. I can't be stuck all alone with you and mom now can I? That would be tragic! See ya loser!" I said. Dad poked my ribs, and shoved me out of the car, smiling.
Now, I'm on my own again. As I walk towards the school, two girls shove past me, whacking my My Chemical Romance bag against my thighs. Ow! When I get into the school, I look for the reception. There isn't one in sight. I walk up to a bloke who seems safe enough. "Um, hey? Can you tell me where the main desk is, so I can register?" I say, nervously. This guy is NOT the right guy to talk to. He stares hard at me, and gives me a slap that sends me sprawling to the floor. "I don't talk to emo punks like you! When I have to, that happens! So a bit of advice to you! Don't talk to me." He bellowed into my ears. I just gave him one of my hardest glares. He freaks out, stalks off.
"Can I help you?" says a voice behind me. I turn around, and see a towering figure above me.
He looks about my age, but is a bit taller. He's got dyed black hair, and a blonde sweeping fringe, like what Matty and Jakey have. His eyes are outlined heavily with eyeliner, and obviously has white foundation on. His eyebrows, nose, and lips are pierced, with two piercings in his lips. He has a necklace with a pentagram on it. He has a Marilyn Manson t-shirt on, with black bondage pants, with about 40 chains on it. I kid you not. You know those really high platform shoes? Well that's what he was wearing, and a black trench coat. That was all. Well not literally, but you know what I mean.
"Uh yeah, thanks." I mutter, as he helps me up, "The name's Ana."
"Awesome, I'm Bradlee, but call me Brad. You're obviously new here. Come on, I'll show you the reception, seeing as you went to all that trouble with Tom. Don't mind him. He's just a fuckface." I giggle at his choice of words. He smiles back. "Come on!" he moans, as I look around the corridors, taking in my surroundings.
When we got to the reception, we had to wait. I found some chairs, and we sat on them. Obviously.
"So... judging by your accent, you're from Texas?" he said. I snorted.
"No, from New York...my accent is nothing like a Texas one!" I laugh. Brad looks embarrassed, then grins. The receptionist calls me in.
As I walked into the bland white room, I see Tom in a corner, glaring at me. "Hello Miss Armstrong, I understand you and Mister Hollings had a bit of a dispute earlier?" says a woman with absolutely ginormous glasses, and wearing an orange blouse that clashed terribly with her deep red skirt. Style suicide! I sit down, and Tom comes over to me. I flinch, as if he's gonna punch me again.
"Uhh, hello, remember I'm watching you here!" I said, shielding my eyes. "What's the matter?" I asked. Dad laughed, and told me. When he finished, he looked at me, happily. I couldn't upset him now, so I smiled, and acted like it was brilliant.
"And tomorrow, you and I are going to get you registered at a high school! You've missed too much school lately. It'll take you ages to catch up, but, oh well." Said Billie.
The next day dad and I ventured into the local high school to sign me up. I moaned all the way. I mean, like, I'm 15, I shouldn't have to go to school now. I deserve the freedom of the outside world. Dad was wearing his disguise, a blonde wig, and blue sunglasses. He dropped me off a block away from the place. "Now, are you okay about this? I can come in with you if you want?" said dad, looking concerned.
"Dad! I told you, I'll be fine. I need some friends anyway. I can't be stuck all alone with you and mom now can I? That would be tragic! See ya loser!" I said. Dad poked my ribs, and shoved me out of the car, smiling.
Now, I'm on my own again. As I walk towards the school, two girls shove past me, whacking my My Chemical Romance bag against my thighs. Ow! When I get into the school, I look for the reception. There isn't one in sight. I walk up to a bloke who seems safe enough. "Um, hey? Can you tell me where the main desk is, so I can register?" I say, nervously. This guy is NOT the right guy to talk to. He stares hard at me, and gives me a slap that sends me sprawling to the floor. "I don't talk to emo punks like you! When I have to, that happens! So a bit of advice to you! Don't talk to me." He bellowed into my ears. I just gave him one of my hardest glares. He freaks out, stalks off.
"Can I help you?" says a voice behind me. I turn around, and see a towering figure above me.
He looks about my age, but is a bit taller. He's got dyed black hair, and a blonde sweeping fringe, like what Matty and Jakey have. His eyes are outlined heavily with eyeliner, and obviously has white foundation on. His eyebrows, nose, and lips are pierced, with two piercings in his lips. He has a necklace with a pentagram on it. He has a Marilyn Manson t-shirt on, with black bondage pants, with about 40 chains on it. I kid you not. You know those really high platform shoes? Well that's what he was wearing, and a black trench coat. That was all. Well not literally, but you know what I mean.
"Uh yeah, thanks." I mutter, as he helps me up, "The name's Ana."
"Awesome, I'm Bradlee, but call me Brad. You're obviously new here. Come on, I'll show you the reception, seeing as you went to all that trouble with Tom. Don't mind him. He's just a fuckface." I giggle at his choice of words. He smiles back. "Come on!" he moans, as I look around the corridors, taking in my surroundings.
When we got to the reception, we had to wait. I found some chairs, and we sat on them. Obviously.
"So... judging by your accent, you're from Texas?" he said. I snorted.
"No, from New York...my accent is nothing like a Texas one!" I laugh. Brad looks embarrassed, then grins. The receptionist calls me in.
As I walked into the bland white room, I see Tom in a corner, glaring at me. "Hello Miss Armstrong, I understand you and Mister Hollings had a bit of a dispute earlier?" says a woman with absolutely ginormous glasses, and wearing an orange blouse that clashed terribly with her deep red skirt. Style suicide! I sit down, and Tom comes over to me. I flinch, as if he's gonna punch me again.
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