“Beep!! Beep!!” the alarm clock rang loudly. Without opening an eye I grabbed the clock and aggressively threw it across the room. I knew in five minutes one of my parents would come and check to see if I was up. So, not wanting to fight, I grudgingly got up.
Half an hour later I was looking in the mirror for the last time. Last month I had put neon pink streaks in my hair just to be different. Other than that I wasn’t anything special. My long brown hair was as frizzy and crazy as every other day. While my green eyes had always made me think of the wet moss that no one likes. I did like my skin though, I never tamed or burned, which made my skin freckle free and white like Snow White, the princess. I finished analyzing my look for the day and went downstairs and outside.
I would be turning 17 in a month and still had not acquired my license. I wanted to, trust me, the bus and I had gotten sick of each other years ago. Unfortunately my parents didn’t want me to get it, so I would be stuck on the gross bus for a while. Every morning for the past three years I had reluctantly got on the bus and sat in seat 21. The ride was 15 minutes long, but it truthfully felt like a hour. Finally, we arrived at the school and I got off to enter the next hell.
“Dove!” a familiar voice yelled excitedly. I knew who it was before I saw them. Tris, my best friend, ran to me, bumping into people like a happy, hyper first grader.
“Guess what!” she squealed, jumping up and down like a maniac. This month she was obsessed with a band name Guilty Pleasure, and by her smile I knew that they were involved.
“What?” I asked trying to muster up some surprisement. She then pulled out two slips of gleaming paper.
“I got us front row tickets to see Guilty Pleasure!” Tris screamed. I tried not to grimace, but Tris had always been able to see right through me.
“I know you don’t like them, but please! It’s tomorrow and I need to go with a friend! Please, Dove, for me?” she pleaded. It wasn’t that I didn’t like their music; I had never listened when Tris blasted it in her car. It was just that everyone else loved them, and I hated being the same as everyone. Unfortunately I was chronically unable to ever say no to my best friend, so I said the opposite.
“Fine, for you.” I answered as she took me into a bone crunching hug.
“You are the best! I also got backstage passes! So, we get to meet them!” she yelled even more excited. This time I groaned openly, not caring if anyone saw. I did not want to meet a boy band. Much less a popular one who was probably full of themselves. Before I could voice my complaints to Tris, the bell rang. While she skipped to algebra, I trudged to psychology.
Psychology went along as boring as ever, and an hour later I sat in the English room. This was the only subject I could possibly tolerate. Mrs. Scott was also my favorite teacher, and this week was her last week because next week she would be on maternity leave. It was obvious she was ready to pop as she toddled around the classroom in her bare feet and rested her coffee mug on her humongous baby belly.
“Mrs. Scott, who will be your sub for the rest of the year?” Madison, the class priss, asked. Mrs. Scott turned and smiled tiredly.
“I do not know, the school didn’t tell me.” She answered. Madison pouted, not saying another word. Behind me Tris tapped my shoulder and gave me that innocent smile. I knew something I wouldn’t like was coming.
“I’m picking out your outfit for the concert, no ifs, ands, or buts.” She ordered. I acted like I didn’t hear her hoping she would forget and let me wear what I want. Suddenly the smiley vice principal, Ms. Ball, walked in.
“Hello, Mrs. Scott.” She greeted. Ms. Ball was normally a cheerful person, but something about her today made her seem extra-cheerful.