Morgan heard her come in and asked, "How was school?" A.C. stomped into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Morgan knew she was really upset when "Jagged Little Pill" came over the stereo speakers. Morgan sighed. Both herself and A.C. had gone through a lot that year. After Morgan was deported to England , she moved in with her dad who had married and had another daughter. A.C. was only 11 then and she had been going to St. Francis Private School her whole life. She had been unsure of sixteen year old Morgan because she was so different compared to what she was used to. Morgan ended up going to St. Francis with her until she graduated. She knew how tough it was there. It was an all girl boarding school and you only went home over the summer and at Christmas. You wore a uniform whether you liked it or not. The only contact you had with members of the opposite sex was during gym which in you only studied ballroom dancing, tennis, or volley-ball. Public school must have been incredibly different for A.C.
Morgan tried to talk to her, but A.C. only pushed her out and shut the door in her face. Morgan was really worried when two hours had gone by and A.C. still hadn't come out of her room. Morgan was just going to try to talk to her again when Brian knocked on the door.
"Hi," he said, walking into the room. "I saw A.C. crying through the window and was just wondering if everything was alright."
Morgan was shocked. Her sister never cried before. "Well, she won't talk to me. But if you want to try, by all means go ahead."
Brian smiled and went into the room Morgan was pointing to. He quietly shut the door behind him. A.C. was hugging her teddy-bear and staring at the ceiling. She sat up when Brian walked in.
"Hey," he greeted her.
"Hey," she replied.
"You behavin'?" he asked. She smiled at the joke he was testing her on.
"Behavin' is my middle name."
"Aw, that's no fun."
"Ain't is my first." Brian laughed at her mood swing. Morgan used to use that line all the time. He must have picked it up from her. It sounded so different with the English accent he thought. As soon as the joke was over, A.C. was back in her doom-and-gloom mood. Brian noticed that she was wearing a uniform. A white dress shirt covered by a St. Francis vest, a navy and green kilt, knee socks and black Mary Janes. Her hair was parted perfectly on the left side of her face.
"So, school didn't go so well, huh?" he noted, sitting next to her.
She shook her head. "I didn't know what to wear. It felt strange not going to school in a uniform. No one likes me and I'm going to flunk gym because I don't know how to play basketball."
Brian's eyes widened. "A.C., girl, put on some sweats. We're going to shoot the rocks."
A.C. chased him out of the room screaming, "But how is shooting rocks going to help me learn basketball?"