I waved half-heartedly as Amber ran to her Mum's car, slamming the door behind her. They were gone before I'd even shut the door. I couldn't believe her Dad had been in an accident, I'd wanted to go with Amber and her Mum to the hospital, but I knew I couldn't. This was their grief, not mine. I sent a silent prayer, to whomever or whatever was listening that her Dad would be fine. He was like an Uncle; our parents were friends so I had grown up knowing Amber's Dad.
I slept badly that night, unable to stay unconscious for long periods of time, I would jerk awake at random intervals in the night. The prospect of facing school without Amber and spending the whole day worrying about her Dad was, surprisingly, not at all appealing. When light finally began to seep through my blinds I decided I'd had enough sleep. I sat up and stretched with a yawn. I made to check the time on my phone, seeing a message from Amber. My previously sleep-blurred eyes snapped into focus. He was going to be fine; a broken arm was their biggest worry. Thank gosh. I could only imagine the relief Amber and her mother were feeling. She was still not going to be at school after being up half the night, but she no longer needed to worry about her Dad. I sent a quick text back, expressing my relief, and asking her to pass on best wishes. Snapping the phone shut, I closed my eyes collapsing back onto my bed. Now that I didn't need to worry, sleep sounded a lot more attractive. Maybe just five more minutes...
'HOLLY!' Mum bellowed. I jerked upright, almost knocking poor Brendon off of my nightstand in the process. I reached blindly for my phone, trying to blink away my blurry eyes. Crap. I was late. Very late.
After the fastest shower known to man, and a hurried breakfast in the appetising form of a chocolate biscuit, I was out of the door practically running to school. I vowed I would never be late again. It wasn't worth the hassle. Or the deodorant costs (ew).
I reached the school, out of breath, panting, but still in time. I saw a lone figure stood in front of the main school doors. Her blonde hair scraped back into, what I'm sure was once a sleek ponytail. I obviously wasn't the only late-beaver in the school.
'Emily!' I yelled, waving to her. She scanned the crowd, searching for the source of the shout.
'Holly! Oh my god did you hear what happened to Amber? Her Dad!' Emily began, her green eyes wide with worry.
'I know! I couldn't believe it, but she text me and he's gonna be ok.' I informed her. She visibly relaxed at this news. She hadn't known Amber's Dad as well as I did, but she still liked him, everybody did.
'Good.' Was all she said, accompanied with a reassured smile. I took her arm, and we headed into school. Emily suddenly halted, almost causing me to fall flat on my face I might add. Her mouth was hanging open.
'Shut your mouth, you're catching flies.' I told her, shaking my head at her new found idiocy. How many times do I have to tell people, it's not normal to just stop walking for no apparent reason. A problem I have tried to call Amber on many a time, not that she listens, but a girl can dream.
'Dear god.' Emily mumbled, although she did close her mouth. I sighed.
'What?' I followed her gaze, searching for whatever had caught her interest. A girl was seated on a bench outside school, wearing a skirt so short that I was pretty sure she'd just bought a tubby person's belt. Her bleached blonde hair was styled in perfect ringlets, framing her face. Although none of these were the most noticeable aspects of her. Her skin was, ORANGE. I don't mean 'just-spent-two-weeks-in-Jamaica' tanned; I mean 'if-an-orange-and-a-bottle-of-fake-tan-had-a-baby' orange. It was painful to look at. For a moment both Emily and I stood transfixed at the tangerine.
'Barbie!' I yelled, pointing a finger in her direction. We both burst out laughing. The girl gave us a disdainful look before going back to whatever sitting on the bench outside school was achieving for her. I knew it was mean to judge her by her image, never judge a book by its cover and all that. She was probably a nice person, skin bleaching habit aside. Still, I couldn't help it, she was so ORANGE! After we had finally recovered from our laughter, a boy crossed the parking lot heading for the bench where the Miss carrot herself sat. His hair was also a blinding shade of blonde, and he had clearly invested in whatever tanning products the other girl used. We watched open mouthed as thy greeted each other, in an inappropriately grope-y way I might add, and headed into school.
