Wet Eyes by Callie Catherine Brice (best books to read in life TXT) 📖

feel bad if I just kicked her out. I’m her “little pumpkin.” If I’m going to the doctor for a checkup of course she would want to be there with me, just to make sure everything is okay.
“You’ll have to miss lunch and the first five or ten minutes of your 5th period class.” She always tells me what I’ll be missing for these appointments.
I wonder when she is going to understand that I don’t care if I have to miss school.
We finally arrive to school. I zip up my backpack while my mom pulls up in front of the school doors.
“Here is a note.” She says.
“Thanks mom.”
“I’ll see ya after school! Have a good day! Love you!” My mom is awesome. She is one of those few people that can actually smile in the morning. She can smile on those mornings when you’re forced to wake up and do something you don’t want to do.
She is worried about me, but doesn’t want to bring up Charlie. I can tell she is worried that I will act the way my brother did when we lost my sister. I am fine so far and I don’t act that way. It’s been a little over a year since Charlie died and she is still worried I will explode like my brother. I know that someday I will die, and right now I need to live life like everyone else. I’m happy with what I have and what I have is life.
Three

Math is my worst subject. It’s the second semester and I always make a C in this class. For some students that’s a good grade, but if it wasn’t for math I would have all A’s and B’s. I see no point in trying if I know what my grade is going to be.
I get my folder and a notebook out of my bag. I might do well if I look like I’m doing something.
My teacher writes a math problem on the board.
“This shouldn’t mess y’all up to much” He said. I start to read the problem.
‘A standard cabinet door measures 18 meters…” Eh, I quit.
“Well, well, well. What is going to be the answer?” My teacher says as he walks between the desks.
“16.” Someone yells out.
“How did you get that?” My teacher asks. The boy explains in the way teenagers talk. It was hard to understand but the entire class knew what he was saying.
“So you divide the thing, but that number under the 3. Then you cross multiply by those two other things. Then that stuff gets canceled out.” The boy says while he motions his pencil in circles, pointing to the screen.
“Correct!” I doubt my teacher knew what the guy was talking about. He just said that because the answer actually was 16.
“Let’s check the homework!” Uhg, teachers always feel the need to scream. Especially the coaches. I come from a school where sports are the number one thing. So it’s rare when you don’t have a coach as a teacher (even if you don’t play any sports). This teacher isn’t a coach anymore. He used to coach basketball, but from what I hear, he quit because of a divorce.
Everyone shuffles around to check their homework. My teacher explains a few things, then someone asks a question, then he explains more. It’s the same routine every day.
“Alright! Lets do some examples! That’s all we have to do. Four examples. So try to stay awake!” He is getting ready to write on the board as he sings. Yes, he sings.
I am writing down the first two examples and some side notes as my teacher speaks. Not like this will help my grade.
“Get out your handy dandy calculator! Plug it in, and… boom! There’s your answer! Don’t forget to leave it in terms of pie and label everything!” My teacher is a nerd, but I guess that’s a good thing.
“Wait! I have a question!” My friend Mich raises his hand as he speaks. I’m laughing because I know this will be funny. Mich is one of those teenagers that only think about what he can do to make the people around him laugh. He finds those sexual jokes really funny. He obviously hasn’t matured much, but when it comes to his relationship he handle’s it well. Mich is short, has blonde hair that hit his ears, and wears a tee-shirt and jeans every day no matter the weather. He isn’t fat, but he is chubby, the kind of chubby that only the chubby girls think is cute.
“Say 90 pie, again.” Mich says.
“What?” My teacher reply’s with a smile on his face, knowing this isn’t about math. “90 pie” he said in a confused voice.
“No, say it like you just did, when you were explaining.”
“90 pie” My teacher says again. Mich starts to crack up. The class is so confused; I am trying to hold in my laugh.
“Its sounds like your saying, ‘mighty pie’” Everyone starts to laugh. I turn around to make eye contact with him and laugh.
Mich is one of my good friends. He was never friends with Charlie though, no one was.
I have three groups of friends. The biggest group is the mix of boys and girls that are the most funny people I know. I don’t hang out with them much but when I do, I can’t stop laughing.
Then there’s a small group of drinkers and smokers. The provide me when I need those certain things. I rarely am with them.
The third group is my first choice out of all. When I’m with this group of people its like I’m in heaven. I am happy as ever. I guess I shouldn’t call it a group because it’s just Charlie. No one has ever made me feel the way she did. She is the only person I was with outside of school. I wasn’t even around my parents that much. I was so happy just thinking about her.
She is so amazing. I wish-
The bell rung and everyone starts to loudly scatter out of the room. I am putting everything back into my bag when Mich starts to walk towards me. Mich is a part of that boy and girl group.
“Hey.” I said, as I zip up my backpack.
“Hey Ray, do you want to go camping with us this weekend?” He stands next to my desk.
I pause for a bit. “Whose we?”
“Me, Jessica, Nikki, and Joe. We are going for two nights and want you to come.” He says. We start to walk out of the class and into the hallway. I think about it as we walk.
“Sure, I’ll ask my parents” I reply, with a hesitant voice.
“Okay just let me know!” He went the opposite way to talk to friends as I walk to class alone.
Well, there you go. That was my social life. I barely talk to anyone. I just go to school, and go home. If I talk, someone talks to me. I thought about this camping trip with these people. I’ve never done anything like it before. I love the outdoors but why did they want me to come? I’m not that close to them at all. I’ve never been with them outside of school before. Maybe this will be a good opportunity to get my mind off of Charlie.

Four

As I walk home the wind blows in my face. It isn’t that type of wind that pelts my eyes, but it is that nice soft wind that blows every once in a while. Barely pushing my hair back with every wave as it washes over me. This type of wind I can smell but is not penetrating my senses. The breeze is warm, but not too warm. It doesn’t have that moist feeling but it is still a wave of air. When the wave hits my body it goes pass my ears and I hear the noise of the ocean. The wind goes through the holes in my shirt and quietly touches my skin.
I take a deep breath letting all the fresh air into my lungs. I arrive to my house, staring at it, not wanting to go inside. I start to walk towards my house looking at the white door. I take a few steps up my porch and slowly walk closer to the entrance.
I grab my bag straps and pull them off my shoulders. My bag drops to the ground as I still enjoy this nice air. Instead of walking inside I go around my deck to the back of my house.
I am now standing on my deck leaning against the rail that keeps my family safe from the rough grass bellow. I walk against the railing and I look at the tall trees all around my house. I stop at the start of the stairs as a bird quietly lands on the bird feeder that hangs from the side of the wooden rail. The bird is red with a black beak and roughly but quietly picks at the yellow corn in the feeder. The lovely bird piles some food in to its mouth and flies off. I watch it fly with its swift wings and its quiet glide. The bird perches itself on the closest tree and cracks on the corn as it watches all around for protection.
I could tell that this bird was a male. Birds with pastel colors on the wings and stark black beaks are always male.
I walk down the wooden stairs as I hear a crack every time I take a step. I am watching all around me, just like the red bird. The ground got close as I finally get to the bottom of the stairs. I stop on the last step preparing myself for this wonderful moment I am about to experience. I start to take one more step down, putting one foot onto the grassy stone and then the other. I was stepping into a new world. I am walking into the stark green grass