Silverton North High

Chapter 18: I'm kind of waiting...

I woke up.

I ate some grub from the Dining Hall. Mr Klein started my day with a German pop quiz and I’m proud to say that ich spreche ein bissschen Deutsch. Mr MacManoff blew up some stuff, but this time he didn’t catch on fire; the only fire some of us were able to get was from hacking into Mrs Hutton’s user account to see her search history and boy were there some interesting stuff she needed to search for (let me just say that hormonal teenagers and preppy tweens aren’t the only ones with an obsession with One Direction and 5SOS and how they look in their little speedos).

Break time came and it was the same old stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I love goofing around with the crew and stuff, but I’m kind of waiting for something.

Ever since Deyton said that he didn’t know what Siya was doing at the mall with the rest of us I’ve sort of been waiting for him to tell me exactly how he was going to find out what he was doing there.

I mean it’s kinda weird how a guy who isn’t from SNH is able to tail someone who has been learning about moving swiftly in a crowd without being noticed (Me) and without being noticed and apprehended by the teachers and prefects that were at the mall (Deyton and the rest of them).

I’m not stupid enough to think there aren’t any other schools like mine here, but I would like to think that my teachers would know of their existence too and if they don’t then I don’t know what exactly they are going to be able to teach us if they can’t even spot a friggin’ spy school – it’s easier thank you think if you’re actually from one or teach at one.

So, as you may well know by now, I’m waiting.

It just seems like the universe likes making me wait as I don’t receive a single self-destructing note from Deyton during break telling me to meet him ASAP in a secret room behind the second pot plant north of his classroom at midnight… or something like that…

The Mr and Mrs went on making us punch each other and some other stuff; they also made us jump up and over other types of stuff and made us crawl into some other things. When half of the lesson was over I decided to take some initiative and send Deyton a note so that he knows it’s fine to send me one in the future of secret meetings regarding  cute guyz who I may or may not have last seen at Victoria’s Secret.

I told Mrs Young I needed to go somewhere really urgently with the most pained expression that I could muster, with the look she gave me I’m pretty sure it looked like I was constipated, but I could care less.

 I scurried into Mr Deyton’s class which was, thankfully, empty of students. I borrowed a pen and a scrap piece of paper from his desk to say that I was, and I quote “All ears for any secret meetings you would like to have with me”. I would have written more but I’d run out of paper and I was too lazy to go grab a bigger piece to rewrite that and add some more before I was due back. I quickly scribbled some words on the board and pointed to the floor so that he could see it just before it was class time and I ran out to Combat Training to carry on jumping, punching and crawling through thingamabobs.

The bell finally rang signalling the end of the longest 25 minutes of my existence.

I dragged my friends – protests and all – across the school grounds to class and we were the first ones to arrive. As we walked in I noticed that the board was still filled with my writing but I didn’t pay much attention to that because there was no paper left on the floor, maybe he forgot to rub it off or something. Unlikely for a neat freak, but it could happen…

“So, Kris, any reason why your handwriting’s all over the whiteboard?” asks Asa.

“And why you dragged us over here at top speed only to sit quietly and stare ahead?” asks Lissa.