Superhero (but not really)

Sigh. Isn't that how every morning starts? The day was Wednesday, the last day of August 2016. At that moment, I was the only one up. The same as every morning. Oh, did I mention? It was the first day of school; the first day of fourth year; the first day of my GCSE years. Yeah, fun! (That was sarcasm, by the way, was it obvious?) I checked the time on my phone - 07:36. Proud of myself, I threw back the covers and stood. Two steps, that's all it took to reach my chest of drawers (I'm still unsure if that means my room is smaller than average). I waded through the path I created through my mess of a room... okay, perhaps 'waded' is a strong word - it took another two steps to get to the window.



Ah, freshly showered, one of the best feelings in life, am I right? I straightened out my shirt and tried not to feel trapped in the tight collar that I successfully hadn't experienced for two months. I zipped back to the room at the end of the hall to get my shoes, blazer and tie. A clip-on; after three years, I'm still thankful. Two sprays of deodorant, each side of my neck. I closed my eyes and wished that this year, the heavenly smell would somehow stay with me, and not fade in five minutes. That was my Big Plan for fourth year - smell nice, look nice, be nice... and do fabulously well in my exams, of course. The whole 'showering every morning thing' was a large part of that plan - I sniffed my arm - and maybe it would work! Ugh, who am I kidding, I'd probably still be a huge, ugly nerd. And it most definitely did not help that I grew at least an inch over the Summer. Nerd, I actually quite liked that word, and I most definitely was one, I mean - I loved Harry Potter, Percy Jackson and countless other books and films. Oops?



I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't realised I had made myself breakfast and was sitting on the sofa munching on toast while watching some crap children's reality TV show. Is it a drama? It's certainly very fake. Hm, perhaps it's one of those odd scripted-reality shows. Whatever the case, it made me cringe, yet - embarrassingly - I was kind-of, sort-of definitely transfixed on the storyline. So much so, that my mother poked her head round the door with a 'hurry up or you'll be late and I swear to God if you miss that bus I will throttle you' expression. Yeah, one of those. I checked the clock and almost coughed up my heart, it was almost 08:40! I jumped up, looked around frantically before hopping out of the room, crashing my way into the bathroom. I expertly brushed my teeth in record time, fixed my wild dark hair (I say fixed... more like temporarily tamed the Beast) and ran down to the kitchen - I checked to make sure my room door was closed so Finn (our new – annoyingly cute yet lacking a respect for personal property – dog) couldn't get a hold of any of my stuff, obviously.



Thank the gods it was only a half day. I grabbed my stuff with a fervour that could only indicate nervousness or excitement. Being the fabulous and confusing person that I am, it was both. I hopped into the car, feeling the familiar uncomfort of being squished in the front while still wearing my schoolbag (it was a short trip, okay?). We took off, the radio deciding to play lively country music (that's what I want to hear at 08:45 – the whining of someone about love, accompanied by various screeching instruments... Actually I shouldn't lie, I was quite fond of country music, coming from an Irish farming background and all). My mother hummed along as we slowed to a stop in front of my friend's – more like acquaintance, but I'll save you the trouble – house, as we would always give him a lift to the bus-stop (his mother would pick us up at the end of the day, so it was fair enough). However, as today was a weird half-day, full of assemblies I suspected, there were no buses provided, so we had to make our own way. Rude.

We sat in a comfortable silence all the way to the school.