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Chapter Eleven

Satisfactory Essays
Song of the day: Queenie Eye - Paul McCartney Our Unfinished Song - Chapter fifteen | 1 | After a heated argument last night, Charlie woke up restless the next morning. Even from long slumber, she could still feel the thundering voice of her father running through the back of her neck. He and his reasons didn't make senses at all. They came out a blur to her ears, but the one thing that led her into almost breaking her mother's favorite flower vase was his threat of pulling her out of school. How unfair. Unwrapping herself from the cottony feeling of her bed sheet, Charlie walked straight to her bathroom for a daily warm shower, then went to get a new fresh pair of her school uniform. And while she was putting a small amount of hair conditioner on both of her ridiculously dark eyebrows (Stephanie advised her that hair moisturizers make fantastic results for thick eyebrows like hers), Charlie noticed an old folder lying on the side of her study table. It was a thesis project given by Mr. Hamilton for the failing students in physics class. It was due for next week, but a month has passed since they've heard the last of Mr. Hamilton. Some people thought he disappeared after a circulating rumor of him and the school nurse. "Morning, ma," she firstly said after running down the wooden stairs. Siena, who had just finished preparing their Monday morning meal, approached her with a disapproving look. "Your collar's not folded again," she said as brown-polished fingers nails trailed along the insides of her collar, then down to buttoning the last three buttons of her blazer. "What did I tell you about being sloppy? And did you wear your lip balm? You know you get cracked-up lips when you don't wear lip balm." And while her mother... ... middle of paper ... ...w away like a piece of Kleenex. Or maybe Mr. De La Fontaine is just harder than a rock. Yikes. But the last time she saw him, he was nice. He always burst out a laugh every time Mrs. De La Fontaine say something silly. A minute later, Stephanie shook her thoughts away. What was she even worrying about, given that the thought was nowhere near related to her in any sense? Or maybe it does...? After all, she's already made an involvement with Charlie's brother. An involvement that all of her was against of, but her sexual urges. Knock, knock, knock. And for a second there, Stephanie swore her heart almost took a backward leap the second her ears perked up at the startling sound. Oh, shit. Knock, knock, knock, another one came in, this time much harsher. "Come on, Charlie open the door. Don't be a brat." It was Chance. | e n d | Not a very good chapter of mine.