Criticize my work? (: please!?

baby jake backpack image

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Beep. Beep. Beep. âSomeone shut that freaking alarm off!â I yell, no one seems to hear though or they just ignore me. I hit the beeping alarm hard, it leaves my hand red and in pain. I roll out of bed and look at myself in the mirror. Great donât I look darling, I think to myself. My hair is tangled in knots, and I have crusted drool on the side of my mouth. I stretch my arms up and yawn. Its feels like forever since I have had a good nights rest. These nightmares have been keeping me up at night.
âMeagan! Get your ass down here right now for breakfast or youâre going to be late for school!â Thatâs my loving foster mother, Amber Stewart. She is married to a non-social guy Derek. I guess Derek and I have that much in common. I was four years old when both of my parents died by a drunk driver. They were on their way to pick me up from my best friend Bethâs house late one night. I was there that night actually, waiting outside with Mrs. Harrison when here comes my parents a few blocks down the street. I could just make out the car that my parents loved when a black truck rammed into them.
âYeah, yeah, yeah. Donât get your panties in a wad Iâm coming!â I bark back at her. I throw on a pair of black ripped up jeans and my favorite black hoodie, while at the same time trying to brush out my wavy black hair. I have bright aqua blue eyes the kind blond girls would die for. No one really compliments me on my eyes though, apparently I put âtoo muchâ eyeliner and mascara on that it ruins the beauty of my eyes. Well at least thatâs what Amber says.
Hopping on one foot down the stairs putting my shoe on. I take a whiff of the air, smelling burnt waffles. Leave it to Amber to burn the easiest breakfast meal ever. She glances in my direction and a disgusting look crosses her face. I grab the crispy waffle, throw my backpack over one shoulder and barge out the door. Beth is waiting in her new black Mercedes she got for her birthday that week.
âHey!â She says with a big smile. Beth is wearing short denim shorts, a blue tank top covered by a white jacket. She has blonde hair that is straight as a blade that goes down her back. Her boyfriend, Gregory, sits in the back of the car. Great. He has hated me ever since first grade when I punched him in the stomach for taking my crayons. When I look back at him, he mutters something I can barely understand but I know its something terrible about me.
âUm, hi.â I mumble while fastening my seatbelt. Iâm not much of a conversation starter, thatâs Bethâs job.
âCan you believe it! We are juniors, baby!â
âYeah I guess its kind of coolâ My lack of enthusiasm doesnât fade her one bit. She is too busy babbling on how it will be an awesome year and how we are going to go to all the huge parties. Gregory just rolls his eyes, probably thinking the same thing everyone else does âWhy does Beth hang out with that Meagan chick?â I just sit there nodding. Itâs not a long drive to East Bridge High School about seven miles. Beth finally notices that I am paying no attention so she stops talking and we drive in silence the rest of the way.
I step out of the car and wait for Beth but she is already all over Gregory. He gives me a dirty look that he obviously wants me to leave them alone. I shoot him one of my famous âwhateverâ looks and start heading over to the office to pick up my schedule. I am almost there when a tall, dark haired guy rams into me from my side and knocks me over. Everyone stops what theyâre doing and stare. After about five seconds everyone laughs like itâs the most funniest thing in their lives. I guess they have pretty boring lives, because it wasnât funny at all! One, it was humiliating and two, I couldâve broken something!
I glance at the boy to see who the hell he is. He put on a concerned look, before he gets up and he stalks off in the direction he was going. What a jerk! Doesnât ask if I was okay, or I if need help. Jeez what a gentleman! I can not wait to tell Beth about this one. She will find out who this jerk is and he will be excluded from every club, every dance, everything!
I get my schedule and walk off to my first period math class. Room 411 with Mr. Cassidy. He is tall, bald and has geeky glasses that should be illegal. He greets me with a warm handshake, and hoping both of us has a great year. Mr. Cassidy is known for his oblivious actions and his care-free attitude. I already know he is going to be my favorite teacher of the year.
âSince youâre the first one to class, please, pick whatever seat you like.â Mr. Cassidy says with a gesture to the desks.
I pick the desk farthest in the back near the door. Easy escape after the bell, and if Iâm late I can easily sneak in without him noticing. I set my back pack on my desk and open my phone. One new message from Beth: WHERE DID U GO? MEET ME BY MY LOCKER 756 AFTER 1ST PERIOD. SEE YA! I flip my phone shut without texting back. She knows I am not that big of a texter so if I donât text ba
(i didnt all fit sorry!)
She knows I am not that big of a texter so if I donât text back she understands.
Iâve known Beth my entire life. She is like my sister. We tell each other everything, we hide no secrets. It may not seem like it, but I would do anything for her and I know she will do the same. That is why she is so protective of me and I am of her. Even if one little rumor about me goes around the school, she flips out and will tell anyone who believes the rumor off. She might be a little thing but she can be a bitch out of hell. That is one of the reasons I love her so dearly.
The late bell rings and I finally look up from my backpack to see the classroom almost filled with students. Everyone is in their little group gossiping about who knows what. The desk in front of me and beside me are empty. Nothing has changed, everyone stays away from me, people would pick on me and make fun but they are too scared of Beth and what she can do, so they usually just avoid me.
The only person who doesnât avoid me and loves to pick on me is Jagger Mitchell. Schools number one baseball player, and he doesnât let anyone forget it. Please God, please do not let Jagger be in my classes! I pray hoping they will be answered.
Everyone is seated and there is no sign of Jagger. Five minutes into class while Mr. Cassidy says a little about himself like where heâs from, where he grew up, and stuff like that the door swings open, and the one the only walks into the room thinking he is the coolest person in school. Jagger Mitchell. He gives the teacher is tardy slip and slides into the seat right next to me. Great.
âHey baby, how you doing?â he winks and flashes a grin.
âI was doing a whole lot better before you showed up and ruined my day.â I smile back. He loves playing games with girls, especially me.
âAw donât be like that. I know you missed me over the summer.â
âActually I didnât. I had an awesome summer. You want to know why? Because I didnât have to see your face for an entire two months.â The smile is wiped from my face and I focus back to the teacher. He knows I donât want to play his silly games, but that is why he keeps at it.
âOh come on, Meagan. You know you se

Title Post: Criticize my work? (: please!?
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