her yellow

One thing Louisa doubted she would ever understand is why the majority of the population had to be so obsessed with coffee and everything remotely related to it. The dark and bitter drink was what kept half of the country awake and running. The idea of not falling asleep during Louisa’s classes in the early mornings was a very tempting one, and yet, she had tried getting herself to like coffee and had failed every time. She had had to dump loads of sugar in it to make it drinkable, and even then she had given up, deciding that all that sugar would end up doing more bad than good. So, she had opted to steer clear of it, despite nearly everyone she knew begging her to reconsider. Their adoration for coffee never had rubbed off on Louisa. Why was she thinking about coffee and it’s tight hold on people worldwide? Because, anything was better to think about than whatever it was her English teacher, Mr. Cannons droned on about from the front of the room, pausing occasionally only to flip a page in the textbook that rested on the desk before him. “Now,” He paused, pushing his thickly framed glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, squinting purposefully at the half-dead students before him, as if only just noticing that maybe they weren’t paying attention. “This will be on the test.” He announced meaningfully. As if that made Louisa want to sit upright in her chair and copy his every word into her notebook, which laid open in front of her. By the disappointed look on his expression, that's exactly what he had expected. “Hey. Hey. I snorted my grandma’s ashes.” Louisa blinked rapidly, turning a bit in her chair to face the speaker. It was Joana, of course. She sat perched in her wheelchair, grinning triumphantly. “Ha-ha. Knew that would get your attention.” Joana had paralyzed both of her legs in a car accident in the 7th grade. Now, they were in their junior year in high school, marking 4 years since the crash. In all the movies, the girl stuck in a wheelchair, likely for the rest of her life, would be bullied - an outcast from the entire school. Quite the opposite had happened for Joana. Once she had paralyzed her legs, she had gained loads of attention from her peers and teachers. Suddenly, she had more friends. People cast worried and inspired glances her way often. And Joana? She basked in the attention. It was one of the things Louisa liked about her most - Losing use of both of her legs had devastated her, but the chaotic and talkative Joana Louisa knew never departed. “What?” Louisa asked, her voice lowered to just below a whisper. One of the perks of having a wheelchair for Joana were that she was able to sit by her friends in all of her classes. As if any teacher would say no to the disabled girl. Joana gestured to the empty notebook in the desk in front of her, and then to Louisa’s. “Can I see your notes?” She pleaded, complete with her hands pressed together dramatically. Louisa rolled her eyes. “Why can’t you take them yourself?” “He said it was going to be on the test! Do you want me to fail?” Joana demanded, and Louisa shushed her. “He almost never even includes stuff from the notes in tests, anyway.” Louisa scoffed. “A-ha!” Mr. Cannons boomed cheerfully, pointing his pen at Louisa. Louisa jumped, shooting a grumpy look to Joana, who innocently fiddled with a piece of lint on her shirt. “Now, Miss Cortez, do you know what you just did?” Refused a disabled person of help?  Talked during class?  Called Joana an i***t? Louisa gulped. (literally. even she thought people only did that in movies.) She opened her mouth to respond before Mr. Cannons lifted his hand for silence. Instead, he turned, and in his loopy handwriting, scrawled something onto the old fashioned chalk board behind him. Once he had finished, he sidestepped, revealing to the class what he had written. Almost never. She blinked, staring at the words. She ran through the sentence she had said to Joana, and almost a second later, she noticed, and mentally slapped her forehead. “‘Almost never.’ Now, when you were speaking to Miss Filler, did you realize you made a grammatically incorrect sentence?” He sounded so cheery, like he genuinely enjoyed correcting people on their grammar. Of course, that was kind of his job.  “Oh. Yeah.” She straightened in her seat. Joana snickered from her chair. Mr. Cannons nodded. “A mistake many people make with day-to-day conversations. Now, can anyone give me an example of another grammatically incorrec-” He was cut off by the piercing shrieking from the school bell. “Oh, thank God. That took way too long.” Louisa grumped. She stood from her seat, picking up her books and folders and clutching them to her chest before she got behind Joana’s chair. She kicked the stopper up with the toe of her sneaker and began nudging the chair out of the class, murmuring excuse me’s and thank you’s to people that moved out of her path. “Don’t forget to study for the test this Friday!” Mr. Cannons called from the class, just as Louisa and Joana stepped out (Well, in Joana’s case, rolled out) from the classroom and into the busy and bustling atmosphere of the hallway. “Lunch break, right?” Joana chirped from the chair. “Mhmm,” Louisa nodded absently, carefully keeping Joana’s chair to the side of the hallway. “So, can I see your notes?” Joana turned halfway in her chair, poking at Louisa’s ribs. Louisa scrunched her nose up, swatting at Joana’s hand. “Come on, if I just give you the notes, you won't get the experience! Besides, I give you the notes, like, every other time you ask.” She preached. “Your mom won’t get the experience.” “That doesn’t even make sense.” “Your mom doesn’t make sense.” Louisa rolled her eyes, just as they arrived at the door to the cafeteria. Another day, and this time Louisa hadn’t stubbed anyone's toes with Joana’s chair! “We’re here!” Louisa sang as they reached the door. Joana reached forward and pushed the door open, and they were met with the smell of cafeteria food. “Oh, gee, the grotesque smell of cafeteria food is what keeps me going.” Joana said brightly. “Shut up.”