It was early in the afternoon where it all started. I was almost over with my last class of the day before I would leave school for home. It didn't matter what class it was, all that mattered was the last bell.
Thank God that I managed to get a seat at the back of the class, not only is it nerve-racking to have people stare at the back of your head, but it's stressful to try to pay attention.
There was no point in paying attention anyways. School fortunately came easy to me. All I really had to do was study a bit the night before a test and I would pass no problem. So instead of paying attention, I sat in the back of the class, nose in a book, not caring what was going on around me until the bell rang and I was free to go.
When the bell did ring, I took my time putting my things in my bag, not bothering to hurry. I tend to procrastinate in these moments, just to avoid the sea of kids anxiously rushing to get home as soon as possible.
It wasn't long after the bell rung that I saw a pair of scuffed shoes stop in front of me and face toward me. I didn't want to have a conversation, I didn't want to give anyone my notes or homework, I didn't want to be bothered.
I looked up, not bothering to hide my look of contempt. My reaction changed from contempt to shock when I saw who decided to stop by my desk. No less than a foot away was the school's star quarterback, in the flesh.
"Hey." He muttered.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl at the Back of the Class (HEAVY RE-WRITING)
Novela JuvenilI tried to dismiss the idea from my head, yet it's been a while since I've personally talked with anyone other than my close friends. I didn't even really think anyone ever knew me from "That girl at the back of the class." Yet, he did, I guess.
