Confrontation of the Harry Potter-esque
I walk in my room, lock the door, and turn up my ancient stereo. I observe the results of the confrontation in the mirror. Slightly blackened eye, a couple of scrapes and bruises-nothing out of the ordinary. Then I notice my glasses. Cracked practically in half. How the hell did I not notice that on the way home? I grab some tape and try to salvage my glasses. When I’m done, I put them back on to find that I can still see. I glance in the mirror…very Harry Potter-esque. Seems fitting considering my undeniable geeky emo rep.
I sigh and start taking of my bloodied shirt when the phone rings.
“Where the hell are you!?” I hear when I pick up.
“Um…a bit of a mishap on the way home, I swear I’ll be right there.”
“Fine, but you better not be late. It’s the freakin’ prom! If I don’t go my mom’ll send me to another shrink. She already thinks I’m antisocial.”
“But Jen…you are antisocial.”
“Not when my mom’s around. Now get your ass in gear and get over here!”
Some things never change.