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JWalker2406

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The smell of burnt toast floats to my nostrils. Wiggling it around I crack one of my eyes open seeing Brett in the kitchen trying to make breakfast. Pushing myself up I lean against the headboard, rubbing my crusty, sleepy eyes. Taylor is already busy ironing his burgundy jacket while John waits impatiently for his food. Smiling I turn my attention to the outside, a light fog is casting over the school grounds, the sun barely set in the sky. Yawning I read the clock. Only 6:45 a.m. Groaning I slouch back under the covers.

"Brett, man...hurry up with the food already!" John hisses, his stomach growling so loud I could practically hear it from my bed.

"Dude, chill out. Perfection takes time." He says smoothly, a grin arising on his face.

"Perfection?" John inches over picking up one of the burnt toast. "Yeah...that is perfect alright." He places it back down laughing while Brett threatens to hit him with the spatula. I feel the weight of my bed shift, my head peeking out from under my sea of cotton. Taylor sits there smiling, I perk a brow up wondering what he found so interesting.

"Aw, you look so precious when you sleep." He teases, his fingers pinching my cheek as he laughs. Shaking my head I push him off the bed. "Wake up sleeping beauty, we all know how long it takes for you to get ready." He calls back while he walks over ironing his pants. Sitting back up I rub my eyes with my palms. Huffing I reluctantly hop out of bed, heading to my dresser I take out my uniform, throwing it to Taylor.

"Hey, iron that for me?" I say grinning as I walk to the bathroom. The dean always had a thing about the uniforms. No wrinkles. He wants them ironed everyday, I guess so he can keep his crisp, new look. One year he suspended a kid for a month just because his pants had a few wrinkles from where he was sitting too long. I swear he needs to be in a mental institution with nothing but wrinkled uniforms in a padded room. Maybe then it would help him with the issue. But then again that is only a maybe. I turn on the shower, twisting the hot knob halfway then twisting the cold knob a few inches. Drawing the curtain I turn on the radio switching to 102.1. The only station that barely has commercials. Stepping into the steaming shower I listen to One Republic’s new song "Apologize." Singing along to it softly I let the rushing hot water flow down my body. Standing there for a couple of minutes, enjoying a hot shower. My moment in peace, where time almost seems to float. My time alone. A pound on the door then Brett’s voice telling me breakfast is ready interrupts my thoughts. Well, almost alone. Coming back to my sense I finish up, scrubbing my body and washing my hair.

Standing at the skin I wipe the sweat off the mirror. Wrapping the towel around my waist I begin my daily routine. Taking out the mousse from my bag I spray the contents in my hand. Watching as the white foam sprays out looking like a giant white slug. I begin to rub it through out my hair, which maybe one or two inches above my ears. A razor layered effect. When I got done with that I then took out the blow dry, hooking it up I put it on the medium set. Using my other hand as a comb. After 15 minutes of that I took out the gel. Smacking it on my hands I proceed to make my hair stand on end in a variety of ways. It’s what girls call the ‘messy spike’. When I am finally satisfied with then I wait 10 minutes before I get dressed. Walking out I see they are almost done with their food. Smiling I grab my plate sitting on the cheap chairs.

"Dang it’s about time. I swear you take as long as a damn girl." Brett says while shoving the last few bits of scrabbled eggs into his mouth.

"No...I think he takes longer." Taylor laughs stabbing his fork into a sausage. I roll my eyes as I drench my food with syrup. The radio still playing but barely audible.

"Hey, do we seriously have to go to this stupid speech that we hear every year?" John says, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his stomach. We all look at each other, the question bouncing in our minds. Do we have to? No, but it would be respectful. Laughing we shook our heads knowing the answer.

"I say we skip the damn thing, go out to the ‘out house’ and smoke up." I say gulping down some orange juice. Their eyes swim around the table, silence overtaking any sound. I wasn’t sure if they like the idea or not, the suspense tightening my stomach muscles. John nods in agreement as he stands up taking his plate to the sink. One down two to go. I stare at Taylor, he was more likely to chicken out and run back to the auditorium in fear of a suspension. He was always the scardy cat in this group. Always thinking of the consequences while we just thought of how fun it would be.

"I don’t know you guys. I mean we could get in serious trouble." He says, his fork repeatedly stabbing the helpless bacon. Sighing I place my hand over his shoulder, giving him my famous ‘come on, nothing is going to happen’ look. And he always falls for it. "Alright Ace, but I swear..." I cut him off as I wave my hand in the air.

"Yeah I know Tay." I say standing putting away my half eaten food. Gathering my clothes I go back in the bathroom. After changing I look at myself in the mirror. My hair perfect, my clothes ironed. Coming out I hand my tie over to Taylor. I never understood it, and I don’t think I ever will. Taylor rolls his eyes as he wraps it around my neck. "Not too tight alright?" I say as he pushing the tie closer to the base of my throat.

"You need to learn how to do this Asa. It’s pretty sad man." He says staring at me in the mirror as I fumble with the tie some more.

"Why learn when I got you?" I chuckle, patting him on the back. Taylor is my first man. I knew him since first grade. I can tell him anything, well, just about anything. He is my right hand man, I always go to him for advice. He wants to be a psychiatrist, and I think he will do well at that. Turning around I smile to the boys. "We ready?" I ask heading towards the door. Eager nods bob in front of me as I hold the door open. Looking to the clock one more time.7:45. The speech always took an hour and thirty five minutes. So we have enough time to get there and back. Slipping down the hall we wait on the elevator. Our eyes darting around making sure that no one will be able to see us. The dinging sounds as the steel doors open slowly. That’s when I saw her, Summer Forrester. The most beautiful girl on campus. Her silky flaxen hair, her striking emerald eyes. And that body, my eyes floating down. A nudge from Brett caught my attention as I smile childishly. She gives me an uneasy smile scooting past us. My mouth open wanting to say something.

"Hey Summer...you have the name of my favorite season." I slur out. She turns her eyes narrowing.

"What?" She asks quizzically. I stand there dumbfounded, my head rehearsing what I just said. What the hell was that?!

"Uh, what?" I say back, playing stupid as if I never said anything. She pops an eyebrow at me and shakes her head walking back down the hall. The motion enough to make me hypnotized. John tugs my sleeve, yanking me inside the elevator were an eruption of laughter feels the small space. I sigh at the stupidity. "Shut up guys." I say bitterly. The only way she is going to remember me now is by the idiocy of my remarks. Good going! I mentally smack myself on the head as the elevator comes to a halt at the bottom floor. Peering around I see teachers are talking amongst themselves. Straightening up I let them know.

"We have to be quick and quiet. Alright?" I whisper to them. They nod in agreement, turning my face plows into the chest of Dean Peddler. Backing away I give an innocent smile.

"And what are ya’ll boys up too?" He inquires. We look at each other, slowly shaking and nodding our heads. Our shoulders inching up to our ears. "Right... Well I expect to see you boys in the auditorium." He says, moving out of our way. We nod, our hands saluting him as we rush outside taking in a deep breath.

"Damn that was close." Brett sighs composing himself. We laugh as we run towards the far eastside of the brick wall that surrounds the school. Looking around I pop out several loose bricks, sliding through the hole to the other side. Once everyone was accounted for we place the bricks back in place, running into the woods. A few minutes later our eyes spot the ‘out house.’ The tiny wooden shack looks out of place in the middle of the woods. Creaking the door open we all step inside, taking our seats on the wooden crates. Satisfying grins planted on our faces. My hand guides its way to a small metal box, opening it I take out the bag that contains the weed. Passing everyone a sheet of small paper I dab a few pinches on them. Licking the ends we roll it up twisting the slightly. Firing up mine and inhaling deeply I pass the lighter on holding my breath until I slowly release it, the strong scent lifting into the air.

***************************************************************

He assembles his team, marking off the different fire exits the school has. Peering up to his group, he smiles widely, holding his gun in the air.

"Now, we are looking for a boy. He is a special boy. Suppose to be blonde but we do not have definite description. The only thing the is definite is that he goes to this school. We are going to take it over. Find this boy and leave. If anyone tries to stop us...kill them. It should be simple and fast. Should not last long enough for the cops to arrive. If they do arrive then we have problems." He states. "Alright, lets move!" He yells turning to head to the vans that are marked ‘Lawn Service.’ His girlfriend sitting in the next seat, rubs his shoulders trying to loosen his tension.

"It’s alright baby, everything is going to go perfectly." She tells him while chewing her gum.