John Constantine shows up in Metropolis out of nowhere, drops into the SHG's lives like some sort of magical bomb. He's a transfer student straight out of England. He's a normal high school student by day, a demonologist by night. Zee Zatara is pop...
My phone rang once I was back in math class from helping Kara and her new friend defeat Lena. Jesus, that brat, Lena. When will she learn to not screw with us? I looked down briefly and it was Dad.
Daddy: Zee, I know you stole your phone back.
Me: Yeah. I did. How else do you think I'm supposed to contact my friends about homework?
Daddy: Okay. Whatever. Everything fine? Staying away from the Brit?
I rolled my eyes. When will he learn and understand that I love John? I'm not gonna always be his little perfect baby girl. I'm gonna grow up and have a family one day. Not always going to be an obedient cute little girl.
"Miss Zatara?" I heard called from the front. Shit. "Sorry, what?"
"Can you answer the problem?"
"I'm sorry, do you mind repeating the question?"
"Bitch needs to get Constantine out of her head," someone from the front fake-whispered. I rolled my eyes and glared at the person who did that while John blushed next to me. Jesus. I looked up at the board and saw this problem: (BTW this is AP Calculus BC and I'm in frikin Geometry so I just pulled smth off of Google)
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"Great. You saw the problem. Now, can you please come up to the front and answer it?"
"Yeah. Sure," I told her, solving it quickly on my notebook paper, walking up to the board and writing in my perfectly aligned, perfectly symmetrical, almost fonted handwriting. (Looks like one of those cute perfect computer fonts)
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"Wow. That's actually correct," Mrs. Perry told me. "Thank you, Mrs. Perry," I responded, smiling at her and the rest of the class as I sat back down.
"Nice job," John said. I thanked him in return, giving him a little smile. I looked over at Kara, and she was sleeping. What the hell? Ah, whatever.
"Alright, class, that's all!" Mrs. Perry announced after we spent like forty-five minutes doing the homework. "Great, let's go to gym."
"Kay." My phone rang again. "Hold on." I looked down, and it was a random number. (BTW the number actually has a meaning it spells out Livewirebd) (The bd stands for bad)
