Talk About Breaking Through the Net...I woke up to the sound of a baby crying. It was normal around here, for me to have to tend to my little half-sister. My mom didn't care about her, she didn't think it was her responsibility to take care of the child in the first place,considering she didn't want it. She didn't even know who the father was.
My little sister let out another yell and I stumbled through the dark apartment into the small nursery/office. There she was, Little Maria. Only nine months old, so tiny and so fragile. I lifted Maria out of her white crib and rocked her, whispering in her ear that
everything was all right.
"Kasey! Shut the damn baby up!" My mom yelled from her bed room.
"Yes ma'am!" I called back, resisting the urge to tell her to take care of her own child. After ten minutes of constant rocking, she still wouldn't stop. Her diaper didn't need to be changed. . . I didn't know what to do. I finally decided to sing her a lullaby. Not that I knew any off the top of my head. . . I closed my eyes and tried to remember the lullaby I wrote a while ago.
"Counting sheep and deep breaths aren't helping. Closing your eyes never works. So let me sing you this little song to put your heart at rest. Feel the beating in your chest? Slow it down, take deep breaths. Let your brain be filled with happiness as you lay down your head. Sleep will come, at last." I finished the song, feeling tired myself. Maria was asleep again, thank God.
By the time I went back to sleep, it was five in the morning. I would have to get up soon to make breakfast for my mom but for now, I was going to sleep.
I handed a plate to my mom, who groggily took it from my hands.
"What did you fix?" She asked in a gruff voice.
"Pancakes and sausage like I always do," I told her.
"Well, you need to make different things because I'm bored of this."
I nodded. "I have to get to school."
"Then who's going to take care of that?" She motioned with her head at Maria.
Anger bubbled inside of me. "Mom, please take care of her," I begged.
She shrugged, "I guess I have to..."
I resisted the urge of punching her and instead ran out the door with my backpack. I checked my watch again, I was going to be so late! I ran down the three flights of stairs to the lobby of our apartment building. In a rush, I grabbed my bike from the stand and peddeled off.
School was a half a mile away, so it wasn't to bad of a ride. Except when its raining, and the wind is blowing against you. Like it was today. My backpack was weighing me down as I peddeled fast up the Giant Hill. Finally, slowly, my J. Cranes Highschool came into view. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw kids still loitering outside under the awnings.
I parked my bike and walked up to the school, AKA my hell. I hated it here. All I did was work and worry, work and worry, work and worry. I was about to open the door when I was slammed to the ground by something. Something heavier than me.
I fell on stomach on the concrete. It knocked the wind out of me and took a minute to get my brain sorted out. Without even looking to see who knocked me over, I sat up, my eyes closed, focused on my breathing. I had asthma, it wasn't bad, but when someone hits me like that, it takes a while to recover.
"Watch where you're going, freak!" I heard. I knew it was the person who slammed into me the minute I heard the voice. It was Brandon Witter, the schools quarterback and also the star of the football team. Also a Class A jerk.
I finally opened my eyes.
People started laughing around me. I'm sure I looked hilarious. Just some random girl with now damp blonde hair, siting on the wet ground with her eyes closed, right after she was hit and yelled at by someone popular. Every one in the crowd was laughing, every body except for one. His name was Lucas Bridges, he was super smart and had a reputation for being one of the nicest guys in the world. He didn't look so nice, just standing there looking at me, his eyes full of pity.
Tears burned my eyes as I went to stand up, but someone else came up and shoved me back down on thier way into the school.
I didn't know what to do so I closed my eyes again.
"Are you okay?"
I opened my eyes and in front of me was Lucas. He was kneeling down, looking concerned.
I nodded as I wiped a tear from my eye.
"Here, let me help you," he said. He stood and extended his hand towards me.
I took it, touched by his kindness.
"Hey, dude! What do you think your doing?" Some one yelled. It was John Sanders another jerk.
"I'm helping her up," he said as he pulled me up.
I was on my feet again, and started brushing myself off.
"Do you even know her?" John asked
"Of course, she's my friend," Lucas shrugged and put an arm around my shoulders. "Isn't that right?"
"Right," I said, giving him a smile.
He winked at me. "I'll take you to the nurse." He led me inside, his arms still around my shoulders and opened the door. When it shut behind us, he snickered.
"What?" I asked, self-conisiously.
"Did you see there faces?" He asked then made a funny shocked face. He continued to lead me to the nurses office.
I laughed. "Thanks, for helping me."
He shrugged, "It's nothing, really. They're all morons anyway."
I smiled. "Yeah. I'm Ka-"
He interuppted me, "You're Kasey Mason. We were in chemistry last year together. You sat two lab tables behind me with Julianne Walting as your lab partner. You are now in History with me and sit on the third row."He gave me a breath taking smile.
He, he... He knew my name?
"And I'm-" He started.
"Your Lucas Bridges. You sat at first table in chemistry with Simon Smith as your lab partner. You sit in the second row, next to the window." I said.
He laughed. "Impressive," he smiled. "Chemistry was so boring, but there were some funny incidents."
"Remember the time she dropped the vile of vinegar on the floor-"
"And the principal came in and slipped on it?" He finished.
We both started laughing again.
He gave me a curious look, his blue eyes wondering. "Why don't you ever talk?"
"I just don't," I shrugged.
"Well, you should start talking. I like you, you seem more down to earth than all of the other superficial princesses in this school," he ran his spare hand through his blonde hair.
My heart started beating, did he just say he liked me? "Well, you're not so bad yourself." I nudged him with my hip.
He gave me a mock hurt face. "Not so bad? I am amazing and wonderful and totally modest."
"Sure you are," I taunted.
He looked like he was about to say something else but we had arrived at the nurses office. "I'd love to stick around but I have to get to gym. I'll see you in History, Kasey." He gave me a sweet smile, waved to the nurse and left.
That was the longest conversation I've had with a boy, well, someone in a long time. I think I liked it. Maybe I should start talking.