The last day of ninth grade began with a red sky. I wore my black combat boots and my jean jacket. On the back I had painted a black cat with x's for eyes. I'm crazy about cats. They're so smooth and distant. They don't have a care in the world. They're the James Bonds, the Audrey Hepburns, the Han Solos of the animal world.
If I were a cat, I'd be a Siamese cat. I've always wanted one, but Donna doesn't like animals. Haley would be some kind of dog, for sure. Probably a Terrier or a Spaniel. Something small and sweet and loyal.
Mike touched my butt during lunch. Well, touch is the wrong word. He grabbed it and squeezed it when we were making out. I know Haley saw cause she wouldn't talk to me for the rest of lunch nor every time I saw her in the hallways. God, it felt great though. I still wouldn't let him touch my breasts. It's not that I'm a prude or anything. But, we're not even dating. We just mess around cause we can. And we're comfortable with each other. And it feels good. Besides, I know girls in my class who've gone all the way. I think they're stupid. No one needs a baby in high school.
It began raining in fourth period. I watched the huge droplets hit the glass window and slide down. The raindrop orchestra drowned out Mr. Michaels' droning. Blah, blah, blah. He was like the teacher in the Peanuts' cartoon. I couldn't wait to get outside.
I waited at the door for Haley. When she brushed past me, she barely glanced over. By the time we reached the bus, her hair had quickly become a wet mop. I squinted through my rain-soaked lashes. "Fine, Haley. Why shouldn't I expect you to act like a baby?"
I sat in the back of the bus, next to the pot smokers. Our bus driver was so old, he couldn't smell or hear anything that happened on the bus. I'm surprised they still let him drive. I stared at the back of Haley's head for the entire ride.
When she got off the bus, she stood still, facing her home. I got off and "accidentally" whacked her with my bag. She whirled around. Her face was flushed and strands of wet hair stuck to her skin.
"What are you doing, Den?" she whispered, the words seeming to choke her. Hot tears simmered in her eyes.
"Haley, you're the one that has a huge tree up her arse. You need to get over yourself." I stomped across the street, not caring that I was getting completely soaked. Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks. In my driveway, sat a red sports car. My chest burned. A hand touched my arm and pulled me away.