I never thought I could be so happy to see my old, crappy house with it's crooked shutters. Noticing neither of my parent's vehicles in the driveway, I feel even better as I cross the overgrown yard. Today has felt like the longest day ever, and I slightly relax now that I'm home. Even though I have homework for three classes, I toss my bag into the corner as soon as I make it inside, vowing to do it later. 

I pull out my phone to send mom a quick text to see when she will be home, and go to raid the kitchen. Unfortunately no food has magically appeared, so my options are limited. I find some bread behind an almost empty bag of chips, and even though it's expired it looks fine. I make a peanut butter sandwich, sadly no jelly, and then make my way to my room. My pocket vibrates, and I pull out my phone to see a message from my mom. She was able to pick up some extra hours so dad and I can decide on dinner, and she asks how my day was. I decide to not point out that he's not home, and lie about how great school was. Daughter of the Year.

I plop on my bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to summon the energy to do something. I feel drained, below empty. The cafeteria incident comes to mind, and I forcibly push that thought away. It's not going to make me feel better to keep analyzing it over and over and thinking of what I should have done, what I should have said. I learned along time ago that most people just suck, and you have to deal with it. I concentrate on thinking of my classes instead, and the homework I should be doing.

I could at least start attempting to think of something for the newest art assignment, but that just brings Olivia to mind. After she had left our table, I spent the rest of class resisting the urge to talk about her to my friends, they had moved on from that to a new topic and it would seem weird if I tried to backtrack. They kept trying to pull me into the conversation, which was again possible weekend plans. I had nothing to contribute, so I kept my mouth shut. When the bell rang I managed to not look at her as we exited the art room, I am not a creep, and I didn't see her in the parking lot as we were leaving either. I wasn't looking for her or anything. My friends didn't notice my weird behavior, either because strange is my normal state or they were to busy talking about what we should do on Saturday. Either way, fine by me. 

I stare at the ceiling a little longer, desperately wishing I could take a nap, before going to grab my homework. Concentrating on calculus should definitely clear my head, since math turns my brain to mush.
                             ●●●
I startle awake at the sound of a crash and loud thump. Bolting upright, I untangle my legs from my blanket, tripping my way onto the floor. I rush to the door and place my ear against it, afraid I won't hear anything over my thundering heartbeat. Automatically assuming the worst, like burglars or a rabid animal, I stand still with my hand on the knob. It has to be an animal, nobody in their right mind would come here, we have nothing worth stealing.

"What the fuck are you doing Keith?!" I hear my mom trying not to yell, unsuccessfully, and she sounds like she's at the end of the hall.

So no robbers or a bear, just my drunken father stumbling in at almost midnight. No big deal, not like the we were trying to sleep or anything. He must have tripped in the living room, and from the sounds of crunching glass, I'm assuming he broke something. This is why we can't have nice things. When he isn't working he has a tendency to stay out of the house, drinking to drown his sorrows or whatever.
Lately he's been unemployed more frequently, only finding the random odd job here and there. We never have enough money and are constantly behind on bills, but somehow he can afford liquor so he can get shitfaced every night. I can tell who the priority is. 

I listen a little longer, hearing his incoherent mumbles as mom tries to drag his sorry ass to bed. I'm done trying to figure out why she puts up with it. 
I wait until I hear the sound of their door clicking shut before returning to my bed. A pair of blue eyes come to mind and I internally groan. Why cannot I not stop thinking about her? I just met her this morning for crying out loud. I need to stop being so stupid.

Today was a fluke, and I am just distracted by her because she is the new student. I'm not going to even try talking to her, since this morning I clearly proved I'm incapable of doing the seemingly simple task of saying one word. I'm not going to dwell on it, or the feeling of being ignored in art class. I have enough things to worry about, she shouldn't even be on the list. Shoving the thoughts from my head, I try to will myself to sleep and forget about her and school all together. Maybe tomorrow will be better.
It isn't at all.
Olivia is distracting that day, as well as the next.
And the next.
Fuck.