Last week I tried to dye my hair red--not shocking red like his hair, I didn't think it'd ever work. More like an auburn shade. At first I thought I'd write to my mom and ask for a bottle of dye, but the teachers told me...they told me that my Mom was human, so I should forget her. (I decided I didn't like the teachers after that. I loved my "mommy," she did not mean nothing.) My friends didn't know where school was, where I was, so they couldn't send me something...My only hope was to try to dye my hair with some juice or wine or something, like how Elliot said he and his friends had dyed their hair with Kool-Aid when they were ten and wanted to look like rock stars.
All I got was wet and smelly hair. Elliot laughed at me.
"It's not funny!" I wailed, half-heartedly punching him in the arm.
"You...you look like a dog!" he gasped between laughs, practically crying.
"I do noooot!" I hit him again, but it clearly didn't hurt him, as all he did was keep laughing. I opted to skip class that day, too ashamed to sit there with wet, smelly hair while everyone stared and giggled. Elliot and I spent the day in the girls bathroom (we hid in a stall every time we heard footsteps, sitting with our feet on the toilet), alternatively trying to wash my hair in the sink with the hand soap and drying it off with the paper towels that got wet too easily and came apart in my hair. I worried he'd get in trouble at first, but he said it didn't matter--his grades were so low and all he did was sleep in class anyway, so actually being absent wouldn't make much of a difference.
"Are you sick?" I asked, tilting my head up to try and look at him as he squeezed locks of my hair through the paper towel. "You really shouldn't even be going to class if you're sick, you should spend that time sleeping in your room instead."
"Hold still," he grumbled, pushing my head back down. "It's fine, okay? I'm not sick...I just got something to do after school and it keeps me up, okay?"
He couldn't have meant homework. Maybe he was having little parties, or playing video games or something...
"Can I come?" I asked. "Please."
The way he said "No" told me that I was never to suggest that again. I never did find out what he did.
----
It's been a week since then. I don't feel so good. I'd noticed Elliot coughing a few times earlier, so maybe I caught what he had. Sitting in my bed, reading, I wonder what's happening in class right now. I'd ask Elliot to get my homework for me, but he sleeps through the period anyway so it wouldn't make much of a difference. I'll have to ask someone else, if anyone else will even talk to me. Being a friend of Elliot's and all that.
But surely he'll visit or something, right? If I can't ask what happened in class today, I can at least yell at him for making me sick.
There's a bit of a commotion down the hallway. I can hear a few people running down the hall, shouting for Neferet. I wonder what happened...Hopefully I'm not missing something too exciting. I'll ask later.
The commotion dies down as I guess they found her and left with her. Putting my finger between the pages of my book so I don't lose my place, I cough. It hurts more than the other times and lasts a bit longer than them too. I think I taste something in the back of my throat.
Stupid Elliot...it's a hell of a cold he gave me.
...When we get better, I'll have to yell at him a little, never meaning it.
Cough, cough.
---- Note: The "I'll have to yell at him" bit was taken from the movie My Girl, and is one of the saddest scenes I have ever seen in a movie. ;_;
continued...
All I got was wet and smelly hair. Elliot laughed at me.
"It's not funny!" I wailed, half-heartedly punching him in the arm.
"You...you look like a dog!" he gasped between laughs, practically crying.
"I do noooot!" I hit him again, but it clearly didn't hurt him, as all he did was keep laughing. I opted to skip class that day, too ashamed to sit there with wet, smelly hair while everyone stared and giggled. Elliot and I spent the day in the girls bathroom (we hid in a stall every time we heard footsteps, sitting with our feet on the toilet), alternatively trying to wash my hair in the sink with the hand soap and drying it off with the paper towels that got wet too easily and came apart in my hair. I worried he'd get in trouble at first, but he said it didn't matter--his grades were so low and all he did was sleep in class anyway, so actually being absent wouldn't make much of a difference.
"Are you sick?" I asked, tilting my head up to try and look at him as he squeezed locks of my hair through the paper towel. "You really shouldn't even be going to class if you're sick, you should spend that time sleeping in your room instead."
"Hold still," he grumbled, pushing my head back down. "It's fine, okay? I'm not sick...I just got something to do after school and it keeps me up, okay?"
He couldn't have meant homework. Maybe he was having little parties, or playing video games or something...
"Can I come?" I asked. "Please."
The way he said "No" told me that I was never to suggest that again. I never did find out what he did.
----
It's been a week since then. I don't feel so good. I'd noticed Elliot coughing a few times earlier, so maybe I caught what he had. Sitting in my bed, reading, I wonder what's happening in class right now. I'd ask Elliot to get my homework for me, but he sleeps through the period anyway so it wouldn't make much of a difference. I'll have to ask someone else, if anyone else will even talk to me. Being a friend of Elliot's and all that.
But surely he'll visit or something, right? If I can't ask what happened in class today, I can at least yell at him for making me sick.
There's a bit of a commotion down the hallway. I can hear a few people running down the hall, shouting for Neferet. I wonder what happened...Hopefully I'm not missing something too exciting. I'll ask later.
The commotion dies down as I guess they found her and left with her. Putting my finger between the pages of my book so I don't lose my place, I cough. It hurts more than the other times and lasts a bit longer than them too. I think I taste something in the back of my throat.
Stupid Elliot...it's a hell of a cold he gave me.
...When we get better, I'll have to yell at him a little, never meaning it.
Cough, cough.
----
Note: The "I'll have to yell at him" bit was taken from the movie My Girl, and is one of the saddest scenes I have ever seen in a movie. ;_;