I run down the stairs, and storm through the door. Mom calls on me, but I don’t look back; I haven’t got anytime to waste.
Besides, She probably wants me to have breakfast with that fat hairy creep she calls her husband. As if!
I sprint on the side walk, my heels clicking against the pavement. I can still make it in time. I slip on a little puddle, but I grab the neighbors fence for support. Dirty water splatters my skirt.
Shit! I whisper.
Something catches my sight, a paper, a sketch half dipped in the puddle. Someone had sketched a beautiful fairy, sitting on a rock in a river. I don’t why but I tuck it inside my Burberry tote, and pick up my pace.
The steps to the school’s door are wet with man boot prints. I walk up them and I leave a similar trail.
In the hall, all the boys look at me. As usual. And all the girls envy me.
And I realize, I just can’t be late; I’m the diva of this school, and I’ve got all the time in world.
“Oh my God Izzy! What happened to your skirt?” Stacy Brown. My closest friend says as she syncs with my pace.
“What?” I look down at my skirt. I remember the splash when I see the brown smudge on it. “Puddle! I’ll go wash it of.”
“But class starts in a minute, you’ll be late!”
“So what? I’ve got all the time in the world.” I say matter-of-factly. And give her a smirk and a wink.
Storming through the bathroom door while looking at my skirt, the last thing I was expecting was the sight of a boy surrounded by shards of glass and with a bloody hand. But it was exactly what I saw.