5:00 a.m, the normal time I wake up.
Take a shower, do my hair, get dressed, take care of the pets, make coffee, sweep the floor, make breakfast, make lunches and make sure I’m ready for school.
Look at the clock once I’m done, 6:45 a.m, normal time I finish. Same thing every weekday.
Wake up my mother which takes 10 minutes, prep her shower and clothes, once she’s done and dressed she gets her coffee and eats breakfast.
I wait for her to finish then I walk to school, 7:10 a.m, the normal time I leave.
15 minutes to get to school walking, 7:25, I made it to school the same time I usually do.
School opens in 20 minutes but actual starts in 155 minutes or 2 hour and 35 minutes.
Get to school, avoid every student and hide in my comfortable corner of the library right in between the sci-fi fantasy section and the poetry section, my favorites.
My corner is hidden by shelves and covered in a thin layer of dust and smelled of old books.
I always loved the smell of old books, the books are about as old as the librarian, a mystery. Maybe between 50-200, you’ll never really know.
Everyone else thinks the librarian is an old bat but whenever I walk in her scowl disappears and is replaced with a cheeky smile. Every time I walk in she tells me “Welcome home Kissaire.”
Hiding in my normal corner I start to read. I hear whispers from a table close by, “Did you here?” One of them asks the the other.
Two girls, basic, cheerleaders, popular, Thing 1 and Thing 2. Thing 2 answers.
Thing 2: Omg, I’m so excited, I heard he’s hot.
Thing 1: Well Sarah told Jessica who told Carly who told me that he’s godlike.
Ugh, stupid boys and and stupid girls using improper grammar.
Thing 2: Omfg, I’m freaking out! There’s gonna be a real life prince in our school!
The librarian shushed them both and the giggled and left.
Prince? Metaphorical or not. Probably metaphorical and why should I worry about it, I’m not interested in drama. I just want to get my work done.
Almost time for class so I get up and leave. The librarian smiles and waves goodbye with a wrinkled, liver spotted, old hand.
Walking to class, things are peaceful then a girl screams. Almost enough to break glass, like a cry of bloody murder. The hallway turns into a war zone, everyone heading to the entrance.
I find a safe spot and look to see what happened, a limo, with flag, rich boy about a year older than me, wait...no way. Was it true?
Is that actually a prince?! It couldn’t be, this is reality, not a fairy tale.
His eyes catch mine even across the sea of a crowd. He smirks and I blush.
Run to class, find sanctuary, forget what happened. He probably wasn’t looking at me anyways.
There were so many people, I’m just going crazy. He was probably looking at a much prettier girl.
He wasn’t looking at me...right?