Another Short Story

Mia Blattmachr

I picked up my wrappers and empty snack bags from the table beside the couch and walked to the kitchen. After discarding them, I looked around for more snacks to aimlessly eat. The only remaining food was a squishy apple and some stale cheerios. I gave up and walked into my room. I grabbed my computer and sat down on my unmade bed. Clothes were piled all over the floor, and various cups and bottles made home to my dust-coated desk. I opened my computer and went to There was nothing better to do, so I browsed the new arrivals. There were a couple of decent t-shirts and a pair of jeans I found. I knew I could afford it, so I entered my credit card information and placed my order. I probably wasn’t ever going to wear them, but why not buy it if you might in the future? I heard my phone buzz, so I went to check who it was. It was a notification from Starbucks, reminding me that tomorrow was happy hour. It was late, so I decided to call it a night. I went into the bathroom and grabbed my toothbrush. I coated it with toothpaste and started brushing. I walked back into my room and plugged my phone in. My MacBook charger was nowhere to be found, so I just put my half-dead computer next to my overflowing backpack. I walked back into the bathroom and finished everything I needed to do. Exhausted, I flung myself back onto my bed. I set my alarm for 6:30 and went to sleep.


Ring Ring! My alarm started to go off, and I really wasn’t in the mood to go to school. After hitting the snooze button around 5 times, I finally got the energy to get up. Practically blinding myself, I turned on my extremely bright light, desperate to find something to wear. I opened my closet full of clothes, but nothing was wearable. I would have to dig through the piles on the floor. All of the clothes were wrinkled and pretty dirty. After searching for about 10 minutes, I finally found my favorite white hoodie and a pair of black leggings. Great, just like I always wear. I picked up my backpack and ran downstairs. I running pretty late, so I didn’t have time for breakfast. 


“Good morning, Sweetie! Do you want to bring a granola bar for on the way?” my mom said as she sipped on her coffee.


“No, mom! Those bars you get are gross. I’ll get something from Starbucks instead,” I snapped.


As I walked out of the door, I watched her face droop. I ignored it and continued on. I walked over to the nearest Starbucks and ordered a croissant. After I finally got it, I called an Uber and got dropped off at school. I was one of the last ones to get there. I quickly went up the steps of the school and ran to my first-period class. My science teacher, Mrs. Ronald hated it when I showed up late. Consequently, I tried to sneak through her door without her noticing. 

“Excuse me, Stacey! You’re late for the third time this week. Where is your late pass?”


“I’m sorry, I don’t have one. I was stuck in traffic.”


Mrs. Ronald gave me a dirty look as she wrote me a detention slip. After she handed it to me, I rolled my eyes and walked over to my seat, My friend, Bree, smirked at me as she was working on the classwork. I gave her a look back, and I reached into my bag to grab my computer. Shit! I left it at home. I sighed and raised my hand to ask for a paper copy. Mrs. Ronald pointed at a stack of papers on her desk. I went over and grabbed one. The classwork had almost 20 questions on it. No way I’m gonna do this right now. I’ll do it later, or I’ll just ask Bree for hers later. I sat back down at my desk and fidgeted with my pen for the rest of the class. 


As the bell rung, Mrs. Ronald yelled out that there was a test on Friday about something I definitely hadn’t been paying attention to for the past few weeks. I grabbed my belongings and caught up with Bree.


“Hey, do you want to come over tonight? My parents aren’t going to be home because of some work thing for my dad.” Bree asked me.


“Yeah sure. I’m sure my parents wouldn’t care.” I replied. 


We parted ways for our next class and planned to meet in the bathroom in 30 minutes. We both didn’t want to be in school, so we decided we could just leave midway for a minute. My English teacher, Mr. Barsawl, was pulling up the slides for the lesson. 


“Ok, class! Please take out your notebooks, because we’re going to be learning about persuasive writing today.” Mr. Barsawl said in his overly cheerful voice. The whole class groaned.