Walking up the steps, I scanned the two blondes then looked over at the dark haired one with her arms crossed. She looked a little more entitled than the others.
“You should put a warning on that thing.” One of the blondes said as I reached out for the door handle.
“I could,” I glanced over my shoulder at my truck, “but I feel like the blaring siren and flashing lights would distract from the beauty of my paint job.”
Her lip curled, “that thing needs a lot more than a paint job.”
“Yeah,” the other blonde snorted, “Like a wrecking yard.”
That one was obviously a follower.
“Your laces are untied,” I said and walked in the school knowing full well that she looked down despite not the fact that she was wearing high heels.
A shoe I seriously considered investing in when I was met with the crowd in the hall. Was everyone this tall, or was I just that short? There were only about five people who I could see over. One of whom was an older woman wearing a nun’s habit and robes.
I went to church every week with Maw Maw, but watching her boss around people bigger than her was just eerie. Add in the fact that everyone appeared to be doing what she said, and I was definitely not going anywhere near her.
If I was going to get punished for my blasphemous ways, it would be at church like everyone else. At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if Father John had an hour reserved every Sunday just for me. I tried telling him that some people just couldn’t be saved, but he didn’t listen.
Thankfully I didn’t have to stand there avoiding eye contact with the holy sister of the hall for very long, because Memphis popped out of a door on the left and skipped up to me.
“There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
He did realize that school didn’t start for another ten minutes?
“What are you talking about, I’ve been here for an hour. But I could see where you would have issues finding me. This much plaid would blind anyone.”
Did I mention how much I hated this uniform? I had to iron it. Who the fuck does that? Seriously? Who in this day and age cares about wrinkly fabric? That just meant it was comfortable, which is something I think everyone could appreciate.
“Stop complaining,” Memphis smirked and gave my skirt a tug. “I think you look cute.”
“Fantastic, maybe my dream of getting knocked up in the storage room will finally come true.”
He cocked a brow, “the last thing you need is a baby.”
“Hey, don’t knock the life of a teenage mom.” I watched that show. They seemed to have a good time.
“You do realize you have to actually have sex to get pregnant.”
“Ugh, technicality.” I rolled my eyes, “and you might want to watch what you say. I doubt sister Mary of the hallway will be appreciative of your language.”
“Who?” Memphis leaned to the side and looked over my shoulder. “Sister Anne.”
“Shh,” I hushed. “Don’t say her name, you might invoke her.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes, “she’s harmless.”
“Says the choir boy.” Literally. Memphis was a choir boy. So not only did he look like an angel, he also sang like one. It was annoying.
“Come on,” he looped his arm in mine. “I’ll show you your future baby daddy storage closet on the way to your locker.”
“And where is your future baby daddy?” I asked as Memphis pulled me down the hall.
“At practice, and would you keep your voice down,” Memphis said in a hushed tone.
“Ah,” I sang. “Sister Anne doesn’t seem so harmless now, does she?”
Catholicism and homosexuality didn’t go together so well. As far they were concerned it was a sin. Well, most of them. Father John welcomed everyone, so he wasn’t entirely bad. Though I did sometimes wonder how the church felt about his open door policy.
