Talentless Reincarnator.

Ch.13 | Pestering Teacher

A/n: I encourage all and any: funny comments, suggestions, questions, and feedback! Also, I don't own any songs used in this chapter!

A huge thanks to my Patreons: Old Guardian, Melon, and Glacier Vazquez.

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I said previously that hell had to be this class, and I wasn't wrong, but I don't think I gave it as much credit as it needed. You see, in greek Mythology, there is the underworld, and then there is a giant pit of hell that is used to imprison the titans and torture evil souls(or people who angered the snowflake gods). 

That's where I sat right now, not just some chamber in hell. A pit of intellectual society that tortures the smart with problems that don't need solving, questions that don't need answers, and stupid. Fucking. Consent lessons. 

I -- John Silver can say with pride that I never had lessons on consent, partly because I've never been interested in anything of the sort, and probably because I thought it was pointless, to begin with. To me, if you need someone to tell you the rules of the world, then you're just sheep. And in my idiocy scale, you rank pretty high. 

 Thanks to the locker girl's outburst I was the center of attention in this class. Forced to answer annoying questions like: "What do you do when someone says no?" I would never be in that situation, to begin with, instead, I would probably be out trying to gather information on different things. 

The next class was math and pretending I was my apparent age had me losing brain cells faster than a paranoid man runs after hearing footsteps behind him during the night. Yes, one times two is two, two times two is three, and two times three is six. Stop asking me already.

Last time I checked, teachers were supposed to help the entire class, so why was this one so focused on me? I looked toward the locker girl, she was staring right at me, with narrowed eyes, like she was waiting for me to do something. I looked back at the teacher and continued answering her questions. 

This is the one moment where fighting back works against me, if I do, she will simply put even more focus on me, and what I wanted was for her to be gone, for her to lose interest. That didn't seem to be happening though until I got too tired of answering her questions with correct answers.  

"I don't know," I said, looking away, she seemed surprised, we'd done the two times table entirely, which although kind of impressive, was expected by this age. I learned at least that much as a six-year-old... fuck, I forgot that most people were idiots. 

"Well, it is still impressive you know so much, who taught you John?" she asked, her eyes were shining, she was waiting for an answer and the twinkle in her eyes made me think that she wanted to know for other reasons other than curiosity. 

"My dad taught me," the next question was obvious, what does your dad do for a living? Maybe she'd ask who my dad was, where he was. Or maybe she would throw a curve ball and ask about my mom, check out if she helped out as well. 

"So, your dad taught you?" I nodded and she continued with the interrogation, "What does your dad do for a living?"

Fucking called it, people are so predictable. They knew I came from Italy, but don't know anything else, my parents don't have files because they don't exist, and any information that exists about them were lies I constructed.

"Airplane pilot," I answered, she said it was impressive while clapping her hands together and then asked a few more questions -- all of which, I answered methodically. After a few questions she lost interest, I could tell because the twinkle in her eyes was gone, all I had to do was answer with the vaguest and most generic answers possible with very little interest in the conversation. People pick up on the signs without knowing they do and slowly feel like they don't want to be a part of the conversation.