THEM WILD TIMES |18+| rough draft (motivation needed)

|1|Love me for me and not my body|1|

 Here's the line for first-time readers (FTR) and for re-readers (RR) Right ⬇below⬇

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T  H  E  M     W  I  L  D    T I M E S

{M  O R N I N G}

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JACOB's POV

 The dimmed light rays break through the dorm's thick curtains as the morning hits. While I lay, head tucked under my arms, nose pressed comfortably under my armpits hair  as I heave a groan.

Hearing the alarm clock go off in the center of the room - where it's only ever been, beeping away on top of the dresser. Neither I nor Lily can reach it without having to get up. So I take a bit before shifting, outstretching my arms, and hearing my bones pop.

 Feeling all set and refreshed from the night's muscle build-up that led to paining soreness; swinging my legs over the bed's side and stood up looking over at Lily shifting grumpily in her bed,  alarm remaining to beep away as I walked over to turn it off.

"Lily? Come on. Get up." I say and move to my side closet picking out the uniform. Lily's always slept in hers. I don't ever ask because I rarely care the very least why she does it.

I pull over my head, a plain white collar shirt that I had to roll up the cuffs to So they don't hang off my wrists as I try to get the red and black uniforms-jacket out of the closet and off the hanger. I take the layover uniform jacket, tugging it over the white buttoned-up collar shirt.

"Lily." I grumble while walking over to yank the covers off. "get up."

She makes low murmurs as she turns over. With that, I flung her covers to the side and started for her feet.

As if sensing my move, she ruffles to a turn, sitting up and looking at me. "I'm up." Her grouchiest attitude is at most unacceptable. I give her a look, which leads her to look down shyly before nodding and getting up. That's what I thought.

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L I L Y ' S P O V

Sitting in class, Hands in lap, eyes directed towards the front. Students around me horse around while the professor teaches his demonstrating lesson. Finding It troubling to focus when two boys keep making these remarks about me from behind, I turn to them, Looking shy as ever as I give them a start to ask them the simplest request.

"May-" I start. But hesitate when they both stop talking to look at me with these amused faces. One of them actually bites his lip and winks at me, making me feel overly self-conscious. I try to start again but get interrupted by Professor. Young.

"Miz. Manhattan. . . Is there an issue?"

I'm taken by surprise turning and rubbernecking down at the professor staring up at me.

"No. . . no sir, there's no issue here," I said, keeping a mask of an emotionless expression covering my face's actual features.

"Good, then turn around and stop talking to the 'boys' behind you." He gives me a dirty look as if I'm a dirty girl who opens for anyone who wants in. Which sickened me.

I swallowed and replied, "Yes sir," paying my attention back to him instead of the boys making dirty remarks about me.

After our lesson ends and everyone starts for the exiting doors, I take my time packing up my stuff. Waiting for the two boys to get from behind me and walk down the steps to avoid any problems they might try to start while walking to my next session's class.

I wait extremely long by stalling, putting my papers away extra slow for them to finish up their snickering critiques on how my clothes always seemed wrinkled every day and seeing to never get washed; how'd regardless they'd have me in bed within a heartbeat. That disturbs me the most by far.

I freeze hearing one of them make the remark. Taking anything in hand to keep my hands busy from showing how Trembley they are. I can feel their eyes bleeding into the back of my head, and I can tell by the way they shuffle behind me that they're waiting for me to go ahead first. But I don't.

I keep my head low when I hear one of them say, "come on." In a voice that I could tell is being held with a grin.

Finally, in my peripheral vision, I can see one of them walking down the steps, Not giving away that I can see them as I slowly cram another one of my books into my bookbag. I can still feel the eyes on me as the other boy comes to follow suit, walking down the steps with his boys and out the door with a couple of others that also lagged behind to chat with their friends.

The boys left the room, yet I still feel The visual sense on me. As I look up, my eyes meet with the professor's hard staring ones. realizing our eyes connected Professor. Young immediately drops him. I still look at his aim to struggle and find something to rummage through as if he'd been doing something else than staring at me.

I know I've been sitting here for over a long time, but, considering those boys, I'd rather not take chances on leaving just yet. In case they happened to come up with waiting me out.

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