He Found Her.

Chapter 25.

Vintage POV

Dylan and I walked to our first class. We were the first couple of students to arrive.
I hoped we didn't have assigned seats, because this is obviously high school.

Dylan and I chose our spots randomly.
"I seriously hate physics dude."

I felt his frustration.

"I damn near failed last semester because of the dumb teacher. Hopefully...Mrs. Bridget is better at doing her job."

He held a sarcastic smile. I failed not one class last semester, surprisingly. I was never really at school. But we all know I had major depression.

"Dylan, why did we choose to sit all the way in the back of the class? These desks look stray."

"If they are, teach will say so."

"I mean, she hasn't even looked up from her desk. I don't even think she can see with those small glasses hugging her face. She'd be better off with hourglasses glued to her eyes."

Dylan laughed a bit too loudly.

"Hush! No laughter too loud in my class!"

Yep, she was a bitch.

**

The lunch bell rang, and I was starving.

"Hey, I don't really wanna eat in the cafeteria, their food disgusts me." I said, hoping Dylan would check us out just for the lunch period.

"Figured. We can leave campus and grab something if you'd like?"

I tugged him to the main office.

"Yes, Vintage?" Ms. Greene said.

In the back of my mind, I wanted to be snappy and ask her isn't she supposed to address me by my last name following a Ms?

"We want to check out to leave campus for the lunch period. Can I get the sign out book?"

She lifted her glasses and glared at Dylan and I back and forth, as if she was trying to figure something out.

"Yes Vintage, you may."

"Wouldn't the proper way to greet me be, Ms. Delerose? That's the "formal" way right? Since your "on the job".

Dylan thumped my hand signaling me to shut up. I tapped his leg signaling I got the hint.

Ms. Greene just cleared her throat, tugging her short hair behind her ear and flopping the sign out book on the counter of her desk.

"Thank you." Dylan said without hesitation. He was getting impatient with our little petty arguing.

As we walked out, I glared at her. "Nice day Joy."

Joy was her first name. I figured that out just from standing in front of her desk. I knew that would piss her off. She cringed in her chair, acting as if she was gonna get up and run to sock me. But, hey, don't dish out what you can't handle in return.