Cinnamon Roll (bxb)

Tick, Tick, Tick...

The clacking of numerous fingers on keyboards filled my ears. A video about the current book we were reading played on the TV. I'd completely neglected to read the book since I laid my eyes on the first chapter of it. 'Not interested, not interested at all,' is what passed through my mind at the time. We were supposed to be comparing the clip to the book, but without reading, everything I did was completely baseless. So, like anyone in their right mind, I just didn't do the assignment.

What can I say? I never claimed to be an English prodigy. Mr. Delmur was adamant that I could be in the advanced placement English, and according to my test scores, that's where I belonged. I shrugged him off. I was comfortable where I was.

"Jacob Sinnamon, could you meet me in the hall?"

The sudden mention of my name had me swiftly turning my head towards the noise. I dropped my pencil, leaving the doodle of a heart behind. Mr. Delmur was already outside the classroom door by the time I made it there. I could feel the gazes of everyone as I walked out. I swear I knew their thoughts, too. We all wonder why someone is getting called out of the room. I questioned what they thought my reason was, or maybe I was just hoping they wondered.

Mr. Delmur stared at me for a moment, his arms crossed in front of himself. His finger would move up and down, up and down. "Jacob," he would begin. My head snapped up to his face. "I suspect you know why I called you out here?" His head turned slightly as he spoke, eyebrows raising. I was oblivious as to why he expected me to know.

"No, not really," I stated, zero inflection to be heard within my voice. I just wanted this talk to be done with as soon as possible. English was my last class of the day, and I couldn't be bothered to care about it.

"You have the only F within all of my classes." Mr. Delmur would put his hand up to his face, pinching his eyebrows together with his hands. His neck would crane downwards. "I know you can do better than this. You know it too." My eyes rolled immediately, more of an impulse rather than a choice. I could tell Delmur didn't approve of my attitude concerning this.

"I'm a lenient teacher. You know this, you've had me for two years in a row." Unfortunately for me, this overly dedicated quack taught my engineering class last year. If I could go back, I wouldn't have been so interested in the subject. I could've avoided having to deal with this occasion. "I allow retakes, and you can make up 70% if you missed an assignment. We could get your grade back up to a C."

I would sigh. I was at a complete loss for words. It would take the world exploding twice for me to even consider taking this class seriously. All that happened within English class was cramming words into your head that you would never use, reading texts that you could barely even comprehend, and reiterating something that has probably already been said before.

Mr. Demur's shoulders would slouch to my silence. He checked his watch. Class was almost over. "If you want to get your grade back up, you can ask me anytime, Jacob."

The bell would ring.

Everyone rushed out of class, the herd commencing in the hall. Fuck, now I'm gonna miss meeting up with D-Pop. Mr. Demur gave me one last look, almost as if it was pity, before I grabbed my backpack and carried myself into the hall.

Redwood High School held a total of 1854 students within it's halls. I'd looked it up once. The lack of space when you walked in the halls made me believe that it was much more than what was listed on the website. I could be wrong, though, because it also mentioned the lunch food being rated a solid 4.2/5. If that wasn't absolute bullshit, then I don't know what was.

Not only that, but the reviews left on the website claimed things like: "The teachers here are the most approachable and helpful teachers I've ever had" and "Mrs. Thomas is the best!"  Not to be a negative Nancy, but these people must not be going to the same school as I am. Mrs. Thomas hounded you with homework every single day, demanding you read a chapter in the history textbooks the school loaned us. Plus, people like Mr. Demur existed who, even though it was blatantly apparent that you had no interest in participating, would hassle you until you gave into their words of encouragement. I can assure you that I won't give in. Maybe I'll even be the first to not succumb to the pressure.

The fresh air brushing against my face as I finally made my way out of the school doors felt like a stroke from heaven. Ever since my schedule switched, I've had gym first period. Felt claustrophobic all throughout the day since. At least it made the outside world a whole lot more rewarding.

I've been feeling quite hazy lately, like there's a wall between me and understanding what's going on. I feel lost in class, and words intertwine with each other while I'm reading. Once I finally feel like I've understood something, I-

"Sin, you little fucker, what're you doing over there," an unknown person would scream out. I had it down to 5 people, pretty much the only people I talked to on a regular, and it didn't sound like a female, so it had to be 1 of the other 4. I rotated on my heels, facing the voice.

It was D-Pop, head sticking out of a rolled down window in a car that made Pop look larger than he was.

"What're you doin' walking around? Usually you've bolted your ass back home by now."

A smile would paint it's way across my face. He was right, I usually would be home by now. My legs carried me faster than I realized.

"That asshole Mr. Delmur kept me from getting out before everyone else, got stuck in the crowd and shit! The bastard," I'd chuckle at my own statement. Things seem to flow easily with D-Pop.

"Alright," Pop would say, extending the sentence far more then necessary. "Don't get run over." I'd nod, watching the car speed away. It was unfortunate that D-Pop and I shared no classes together despite us both being in average classes.

"It is what it is, I guess," I sighed. I rounded the corner that lead directly to my house, gazing at the neighbors house. It was average-sized, at least from the outside. I'd never stepped foot into the house. I moved here in the middle of 7th grade, and it had always been empty. The "For Sale" sign sat there in printed red ink the whole time, too. I figured the sale price was unreasonable or something.

Besides, what did it matter anyways? I'm home, I thought as I walked through the doorway.