Chapter one: Wake up, Sleepyhead

It was noon when I awoke from a fitful sleep. During the course of the night, it seemed, I woke up every hour. Each time my eyes opened, they darted straight to the clock, showing me the time . . . reminding me that I was never going to get enough sleep.

Though, in a way, I was glad that I didn't sleep much last night. Despite the frenzied attitude I was bound to have as the day went on, there was better chance of me sleeping tonight. I don't want to get my hopes up though. I might be disappointed.

Even though I really want to stay in bed right now, I have to get up. It's bad enough I slept this late. Yawning, I rolled out of bed and stumbled out of my bedroom. I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, and tried to think of something quick I could make. I had errands to run today, and I was supposed to leave two hours ago. So much for being prompt, eh?

I rummaged through the cabinets, looking for anything. Something I could eat one the way to the store; there! A green box in the back of the pantry caught my eye. Reaching as far back as my arm could go, I pulled the box from its hiding place. Granola bars. Simple enough. I tore the package open, popped one end in my mouth, and ran back upstairs.

"Damn it, now what am I going to wear?" I said out loud, as I stared at my closet. I had to go down to the Vale today to buy clothes. Great, I thought, I'm going to be surrounded by rich douche bags all day. And that is exactly what I want to do today—hang around inbred, preppy jackasses with superficial attitudes—because it's my favorite thing to do.

I walked into my closet, and pulled a pair of tight, black jeans off of the shelf. Now all I have to do is look for a shirt. I found a white, v-neck t-shirt, and threw that over my shoulder and walked off in the direction of the bathroom.

I closed the door behind me and hung my clothes on the towel rack next to the sink. Then I walked to the other side of the bathroom—which really wasn't much of a walk anyway, maybe five or six steps—and turned the dial on the shower. Before I could move, I was sprayed by the shower head, gasping, as the cold water drenched my shirt. I quickly tore it off, exposing my bare chest.

I looked down for a moment and examined my dripping wet skin. My abs glistened in the bright, fluorescent light of the bathroom. I ran my hand over my abdomen, trailing my fingers down to the piercings that lie just above the waist of my pants. They still sing, slightly. I only got them a week ago, and the skin surrounding them is a pale pink….

*@*@i

I have to hurry.

If I keep stalling, I'm never going to get anything done.

I ripped my underwear off, and jumped—almost literally—into the shower.

A couple of minutes later, after getting dressed, I grabbed my key from the pocket of my jacket, and my cell phone from my night stand, and closed my bedroom door behind me. While I walked down the stairs, I put my phone on vibrate, and continued on towards the front door. The table next to the door had my credit card there. Thank god I saw it before I left. Imagine if I forgot it? That would be pretty embarrassing . . . standing in line with all those people . . . having the clerk ring you up . . . and then as you go to get your card out of your wallet, you realize it isn't there. Then you're just standing there like a slack-jawed idiot in front of everyone . . .

I shook that thought from my head, and picked up the mail from off the floor. Hmm, the mailman must've came while I was in the shower. Just as I was about to toss the envelopes on to the table, one of them caught my attention. It was addressed to "The Parent or Guardian of Mason Luna"

Son of a %!!^@…

I know exactly what it is…

…The crest…it's unmistakable.

I just hope I'm getting rejected.

Cursing, I threw the damn letter on the floor, and walked out of the house. I didn't even bother to lock the door.

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