Surviving the Bad Boy

Chapter Two

~I've finally returned~

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I entered the class and surveyed the room. The teacher, possibly in his mid-nineties, stood at the white board, diligently scribbling down today's objectives. The students settled into their seats, not noticing my presence. The scraggly teacher saw me and beckoned me inside. Here we go...

"students..." he croaked, getting no ones attention. "we have a new young lady joining us this year." he turns to me placing his wrinkled Parkinson's ridden hand on my shoulder to guide me to the front of the class. "why don't you introduce yourself?" he stepped back, giving me the floor.

There I was, front and center, making my East Ridgeback High debut. I took a deep breath and said "h-h-hi. my name's Kim Y/N". A couple seconds passed and a singular cough sounded through the room and not a single person looked up at me. They gave not one fuck. Typical. "okayyyy", the damn near dead teacher interjected the silence, "why don't you take a seat over there between Bartholomold Jones  and Feronchika Cubbinz." I made my way over and the class began.

Half way into the lesson, I heard a "psst" coming from my left, from Bartholomoldy. I looked at him in confusion. Why is he talking to me?  "You stink, bitch", he deadpanned. WTF?? I didn't know how to respond. It was true but it was still rude as fuck. "Ignore him", I heard from my right, "he doesn't mean that." I knew Feronchika was cappin out her ass from the way her fingers pinched her nose and her eyes watered. I still appreciated it though. "I'm Feronchika but you can call me Ronchy," she smiled and her a tear slid from her kind eyes from the overwhelming stench. "That's Moldy. He's dumb as fawk but he's got a monster gorilla shlong so i keep him around."

I thought I'd be sitting by my loser self at lunch eating my dumpster scraps as usual but this time I had Ronchy and her moldy man. We were talking about my encounter with that hot hunk this morning, "NO WAAAAAAAY!" she did a lap around the cafeteria in excitement. "You DENSE bitch. how do you not know who that is?? Wait- how did you survive??" Before she could get another obnoxious question out in her unbearably squeaky voice, a tray full of the lunch lady's special goop of the day slammed onto our table.

Speak of the Devil...There he was in all his glory, sneering at me from above. Beside him, a skinny blond bimbo stood next to him, clutching his arm possessively. Her wig looks like it's been in a blender, cascading down her narrow bony shoulders. My face contorted in disgust, mimicking her expression. My eyes shifted back to the guy I'd met this morning, still a hard expression on his chiseled face. Before I could properly react, he plopped down in front of his splashed goop, dragging his ho with him. Her phat azz barely fit at the table but she made herself squeeze in next to him.

"Hey you bitch" he growled before taking a thick scoop of his steamy green lunch. Ronchy and Bart didn't dare make a move, watching whatever this situation was unfold before their eyes.  "C-c-c-can I help you...?" I tried. He only scowled at me more. I opened my mouth to question his and he suddenly shot up from his seat. "Question me again and I throw you back to the dump you came from!" With that I shut up and ate my scraps, not daring to talk to him again. 

Lunch time went by without a word, although half the cafeteria stopped to look at our table. The blond, who introduced herself as Poochie, looked green like she was gonna hurl her gourmet meal. Then she started gagging, turning greener and greener, before bussin all over the place. At that, panic ensues and everyone is screaming as they stampede to the exits. Someone throws a chair, and other launches their goop in the air, and all hell breaks loose. As I scrambled to get up and follow the rush of people to get as far away from the barfer, a dumpster fire broke out beside me. Suddenly, a thick juicy are grabbed mine and yanked me away from the flames. From the yank's momentum, I dizzily spun until I hit his chest. Amidst the chaos, I looked into his eyes and the works seemed to stop. From my peripheral, I saw a molotov cocktail being hurled across the room in slow motion. "Are you okay, my snookums?". There it was again. That nickname - snookums. A could feel a blush rise up my neck as his muscly arm pulled me closer. And I was his... HIS snookums... I nodded slowly, looking at his concerned expression, making my cold dead black heart pitter patter. Suddenly, the sprinklers burst and the hall gets flooded with hurl and yak and goop and tap water.

He grabs my hand and books it for the door but his speed is too much for my weak cankles, unable to keep up with him. My feet swiftly lift off the floor as he sprints through the door, my body flailing behind him like a kite. 

The next day, videos of Poochie's eruption were sent throughout the school. Posters of her mid-buss well plastered all over the halls for the entire faculty and student body to see. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Stew, the custodian/gym teacher/guidance counselor/ principal, snatch a poster down off the wall, flipping a 'do not disturb' sign on the door of the janitors closet before slipping inside. When Poochie showed up, without Jungkook to hide behind, she was completely exposed and vulnerable. You could smell her from around the corner as she made her way to class. It seems the lunch goop was hard to was. Along with her stench, she looked like everything she been through. She'd fallen from grace and hit rock bottom, no long Jungkoo's top skank.

On my way to class, I'd heard the occult club students plotting to sacrifice her for peace of mind and the greater good of the school.

Dis coochie squeaky clean