Ashley ✓

Twenty-Five | Distraction

SOTC: Boy With Luv by BTS (feat. Halsey)

"This new school administrator is actually killing me," Francesca sighed.

Sienna slammed her energy drink on the table, her shoulders jolting upward in a shrug. "Like the dude landed one punch on him and gets suspended for a month? There be girls slashing each others' tires here, but his forbid a punch on the class president."

Before school commenced on Friday, the Sun fried the tables Sienna, Francesca, and I along with two thousand other students sat on or around in outside West High. Today, Sienna and Francesca discussed the new administrator's handling on the most recent fistfight outside the gym. No one had gotten severely hurt, just severely pissed off.

My mind wandered to last night.

Mustafa Fadahunsi's story of how he became a father— what he did when he morphed from the star teenager he sold to the eyes into a reclusive, asshole father— ached throughout the course of each order of my veins from when he walked me home to when I laid back in my sheets in the noir hours.

"Ashley!"

"Yes, Francesca?" I asked, drawing my attention to her when she exclaimed my name shrilly.

"What's your opinion on all of this?" she asked, her tone neutralized.

"I don't have one."

"Oh my gawd!" Francesca groaned, arching her shoulders over the chair and throwing her head back. "Stop answering like that. On mamas, you know you got a massive big brain and you withholding us from an understanding on the situation."

Sienna stank-eyes her. "Girl, stop pestering my foster sister."

"Yeah. Stop pestering me," I added, my tone laced with bluntness but granting her a curve of my lips.

"Fine, if you're gonna withhold your voice from us, I've got news for you all," Francesca announced, fluffing her noir curls.

"Yea—" Sienna began.

"Hey, Francesca."

All three of us spun to Fedor, whose vocal melodies of the two words arriving to the atmosphere in a low falsetto. His body then descended to the table spot right next to Francesca.

The girl next to him's lips curled in the wake of her giant smile as she got out a, "Hello, Fedor."

Sienna's lips parted. "Um..."

"Oh hey, Sienna!" Fedor exclaimed once he laid eyes on his sister. "I didn't notice you were even here."

HOLY SHIT, I had set Sienna and Fedor up before I got wasted!

"You guys mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Sienna gasped out.

Fedor cleared his throat. "During the party, Ashley graciously dragged me from the claws of my friends over to where Francesca conversed with hers."

Sienna coughed.

"Once she did, we started getting to know each other a bit and things clicked," Francesca picked up where the boy left off, her shoulder gravitating towards his.

"So now.." Fedor trailed off, gazing into the chocolaty notes of Francesca's eyes.

"So now we're talking," Francesca finally announced.

Sienna's jaw free-fell all seven layers of God's Green Earth beneath the pavement.

"I figured it would lead to that fast," I just stated, inhaling the beach scent that had wafted into the air as I popped open a book.

+ + +

"The life of a squirrel is riddled with challenges, just like the red flags in Bloody Mary!" Ms. Zigenhorn proclaimed, gesturing to her picture on the projector. "Because ladies and gentlemen, if you set a war in France to make your sister clean the mess of when you hit the casket, you're not a slay."

Finally, seventh period rolled around within the confinement of West High, where I along with thirty others slumped in our seats as Ms. Zigenhorn attempted to string together a relatable history lesson. I'll give her the fact that she probably reflected Queen Elizabeth I's feelings at the time; I'd probably be pissed if I had to address issues to the Parliament about the fuck-ups of a queen who ordered the execution of three hundred Protestants among some other casualties.

However, knowing it all hadn't helped me this time. No distraction ceased the burning temptation to glance at the boy residing the in the back row.

The boy who trusts me.

"And if you—" Ms. Zigenhorn cut off her sentence when she pointed at someone in the middle row, making the class turn to where she directed when she then asked, "Do you have anything to add, squirrel?"

"Miss, if you call me a damn squirrel one more time, I'ma beat yo' ass!" Jordyn exclaimed.

"I don't think the teacher's into BDSM," a guy said, making the class laugh.

"Jordyn, you seriously need to start giving hugs, not pugs!" Ms. Zigenhorn exclaimed, decending her talking stick to the desk. "Your attitude towards my holy teachings is unhealthier than ingesting that glue holding Iona's eyelashes in place!"

"WHATCHU SAY ABOUT MY LASHES?" a girl screeched from next to Jordyn, which prompted the class to produce collective murmurs of annoyance.

"Anyway, what do you need from moi, nacho?" Ms. Zigenhorn asked Jordyn.

Jordyn tapped her acrylics against the table. "Can I use the goddamn bathroom?"

"After I ask a question." Exactly a second after Ms. Zigenhorn professed it, she snapped her fingers at the back row. "Can anyone tell me what year the Spanish attempted to conquer England?"

"1588."

I along with everyone else around me nearly broke their neck to face Mustafa as he answered her.

"OH MY GOD, HE SPEAKS!" Ms. Zigenhorn shouted, dancing around as she yodeled very off-key, "I got that squirrel to answer a question, I got someone to answer a questiano like a regular teacher!"

"Glad you're enthusiastic," Mustafa said.

Ms. Zigenhorn stopped dancing. "What about the question made you finally speak?"

"Nothing, ma'am," he stated. "I just wanted to keep up with the smartest person in this class."

Then he just went back to his phone.