1. I'm Unimpressed

21 1 0
                                    

     "Marianne, would you please explain the importance of a hook in writing?" She could hear her talking, but she didn't really care. She'd always struggled in reading, even though she was taking the basic class. Her, an eighth grader, taking a stupid six-grade level class. Her mother said she was smart, but she just need to stay focused. As if that'll be easy.

     "Marianne Moore Williamson! Are you paying attention?" She cringed as she says my full name, as she'd hoped not for the class to know of her 23 letter curse. She still hadn't thought of an answer, though it was ringing through her head. It's what makes a person interested in the writing... Soon, she realized the words weren't her style of speech. Someone was talking to her...

     "Ms. Williamson! If you can't pay attention-"

     "A hook is what makes a person interested. It makes them want to indulge further in your writing."

     "Took you long enough indeed, yet it was satisfying. Thank you."

     Looking behind me, she saw him. A boy, most likely her age. He was looked like he was about the same height as her, though that may have been distorted, as they were both seated. He had hazel brown eyes, though they had a green edge. His hair was salt and pepper looking, being dark near the top and lightning as it came down around his face. And his face...

      "Ms.Williamson! Is there something you would like to share with the class?" Looking foward abruptly, Marianne rolled her eyes at her absolutely frustrating teacher.

      "No, actually."

      "Then I suggest you cease conversation with Mr.Robertson."

      Looking back at him one more time, she saw him smirking, almost as if he was ready to bust out laughing at any given moment. Then, just as quickly as they had come, every bit of attraction she had for him vanished. Instead, a small lump of disdain formed in her throat.

     Turning back towards the front of the room, she refused to make another sound for the rest of the class period. When the bell rang, she quickly grabbed her satchel and water bottle and stormed out of the class.

     Making her way to her locker, she had a near encounter with trash can, though she dodged it and about 20 students. She struggled to enter her combination, though she miraculously got it right on the first go. Throwing in her first block books, she grabbed the necessary books for evey class up until the end of the day. Latin, Mathematics, History...

     "Hey."

     Though the voice was quiet compared to the sound of a hundred kids running through a hallway, it was enough to startle Marianne. With a slight shriek, she dropped her Latin book, though the owner of the voice was quick to catch it. Looking up at his face, she recognized him as the boy she had just been so quick to get away from.

      "Audio, pulchra ignotae linguae discere." He said. Once again, Marianne gave him the pleasure of seeing the back of her eyeballs.

     "Well, it isn't. Just because I'm failing reading doesn't mean I suck at other stuff." She said. (Note: He said, "I hear it's a hard language to learn".) Waving her off, he positioned the book in his arm, then grabbed the rest of her books.

     "Well, I don't think we've been formally introduced."

     "Gee, you'd think such a smart guy could take a hint." She replied. Reaching her hand out, she attempted to regain her books, but the mysterious boy simply backed out of her reach.

     "My name's Matthew. Most people call me Matt. And I'm guessing your name is Marianne." He said, looking down at her name, scribbled on top of each od her books.

     "Yeah. Now if we're done here-"

     Before Marianne could finish her sentence, the warning bell rang. She only had 5 minutes to make it to her Latin class, which was conveniently located on the other side of the building. Before Matthew knew what had hit him, Marianne had pushed him hard enough to make him fall. Grabbing her books out of his arms, she made sure to keep a straight face. Looking down at him, she used one hand to hold her books and the other to fix her bang.

     "Glad we could have this chat. Let's do it again sometime." And with that, she turned on her heel and sashayed away.

Finders KeepersWhere stories live. Discover now