How To Break Up With An Alien
me, but their cold chill told me that he may have been just as worried as I was.
    "There is no reason why you can't have any of that. If you want to go to Columbia, I'll still stay with you. If you want to spend more time with your friends, we can work it out."
    A single tear paraded down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away. "After everything we've been through, I'm not sure anything we do together will be normal."

Chapter 17
     
    I was a zombie. I couldn't get back to sleep after Ace left, and the whole next day at work I ended up doing espresso shots just to keep from napping on the counter. By Monday morning I wanted nothing more than to just escape reality.
    "Whoa, rough weekend, Bianchi?" Brody asked as I plopped in my usual seat behind him in English.
    "Huh?"
    He looked right at the dark circles that lingered under my eyes. "You look tired and you are wearing two different shoes."
    Crap . I looked down and noticed he was right. On one foot I had my boat shoe and the other was a slip on checkered shoe.
    "Maybe you'll start a new trend or something."
    "Yeah, sure," I mumbled, just as Mrs. Huff passed back our homework assignments from the week before. By the time Brody got his paper, I realized he didn't have mine.
    "While most of you just gave me a brief summary of our reading that was remarkably similar to the synopsis I found online and some bland one sentence opinion, one student actually took it a step further."
    Crap . Mrs. Huff hobbled over to her podium with MY paper in her hand.
    "Miss Alexandra Bianchi has done a fine job of summarizing the story in her own words and done beautiful work as to explaining her view of the story."
    I hated to stand out. I knew I was smart. Everyone knew I was smart. But I didn't want my paper shoved in everyone's faces so they would resent me for it.
    "From now on, I expect more of your work to compare to Miss Bianchi's." She shot a wink in my direction and I'm pretty sure everyone else was glaring.
    I hopped out of my desk as soon as the bell rang I couldn't get out of my seat fast enough. I pushed through the sluggish students and tried to get to my locker as fast as I could, but someone stopped me.
    "Hey, Wop, move your big ass."
    Before Gemma's crutch could reach my shin I whipped around, throwing her crutch to the ground and pinning her against a nearby locker. Pressing my forearm against her jugular I saw actual terror bug out of her big blue eyes when she realized how serious I was.
    "Listen, you racist hillbilly," I started. As soon as the words left my mouth it grew silent around us. The usual hallway chatter had stopped and I knew people were gawking and looking for a show. "I'm tired of your abuse and your derogatory remarks."
    She tried to speak and wiggle out of my grasp, but I pressed my legs against hers and applied enough pressure to her jugular so she would stay conscious, but wouldn't be able to talk.
    "You need to stop with these Italian slurs and homophobic nicknames. They aren't doing anything but adding to your redneck reputation and pissing me off. Are we clear?"
    She barely got off a nod before I released my elbow and legs, letting her body fall to the floor like a limp rag. I pretended to dust some dirt off my shoulder and walked through the crowd.
    "Miss Bianchi?"
    Crap , I'd recognize that nasally whine anywhere. I turned to see Principal Murphy standing next to the limping rugby redneck herself.
    Crap .
    ***
     
    "Miss Murphy, I assure you this won't happen again. I'm not sure what got into Alex." Mom had on her usual good stay-at-home mom voice. She always used it with teachers and people of authority. It was only when she really wanted something and usually from the opposite sex when she would use her romance writer voice.
    Miss Murphy shook her head looking through a manila folder. Her office was as plain as the way she dressed. White walls, basic blue carpet and the only decorations were her college diplomas and a cactus. "This really is a shame.

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