Behind The Jersey

//CHAPTER 16// BEHIND THE LOCKER GROUP HUG

//CHAPTER SIXTEEN// BEHIND THE LOCKER GROUP HUG

"Cody, take that pencil out of your nose right this instant. This is AP Bio, not kindergarten class." The adenoidal sound of Mr. Ericson's daily argument with the annoying class clown known as Cody Richman rips me from my day dreaming, forcing me to reenter the real world. Great.

I groan when I look up to see the extensive notes-for the test tomorrow that I know none of the material for -written on the board, ones I've been neglecting to write down because of my day dreaming. I slump down in my seat, burying my head in my arms. I'm too tired to try and resemble a high schooler. I'd rather be a duck honestly. Life as a human is too hard, especially when you don't want to participate in daily life.

"Exit the womb," they said,

"Life will be great," they said.

Yeah, right.

"Exactly, that's why I'm using this pencil to study my brain with my nose as an access point." Cody defiantly retorts in a 'duh' voice as the class laughs around him, licking his lips that are set up in a snickering smirk.

Do all guys get off on smirking at everything? Or is it just the boys at this school?

I snort a silent laugh, twisting the tip of my pencil into the lined paper before me. My lips are itching to deliver the comeback of his life, but instead I resort to silently sassing him in a silent tone. I've gotta clock in my attitude soon or the boss will be angry. Sorry, I don't make the rules.

"If only you had a brain." I whisper under my breath, earning a chuckle from the kid beside me.

I glance at him and his scrunched up face, giving him a small smile. He flips his thumb up, whispering a "that was great." I grin at him, watching him as he tries to suppress his laughter. His laugh seems infectious because soon after I'm trying my hardest not to burst out laughing too. Woah, lol actually means something right now.

The teacher's sigh catches my attention, and I look up to see him rubbing his forehead as if he is in physical pain. Mr. Ericson shakes his head with his hands returning to his hips, a familiar look of disappointment scrawled across his face. I watch as he mouths something under his breath, and I swear he mutters to himself, "how did you even get into this class."

And with that I'm back to silently dying in the back of the classroom with the kid next to me also clapping like a mute seal. I'm guessing he saw the same thing I just did because he is right along side me, chuckling like there are tiny hands tickling our sides nonstop. Our faces turn red-maybe even blue-as we fight not to make a sound whilst cackling like maniacs. It takes a while for us to simmer down and resort to wiping the tears from our eyes. We dare to look at each other, but that only causes us to relapse and laugh even harder. So hard my abs are coming in and my face looks like Niagara falls.

Mr. Ericson clears his throat, and we both snap back up into a rigid sitting position as if nothing has just happened. Giving him an innocent smile, he studies me and my laughing buddy with a raised eyebrow before returning to his lecture. I wait till his back is turned completely and he is focusing on the board before breathing a sigh of relief and glancing over at the strangely stylish male beside me. I haven't seen him at this school before, and I could have swore that desk was empty the Friday before I stayed home from school for the whole week due to my concussion.

He must be new here.

His face is refreshing. His eyes are a warm brown color that almost seems to suck in the whole world, framed by impossibly long eyelashes that could probably be used as weapons. His skin is an olive-y kind of tone, tan but not too tan. His hair is flipped up in a swoosh, its light brown, almost blond, color hinting towards softness. He's cute as far as I can tell, and he seems to have a good sense of humor and fashion, judging by his choice of edgy yet dapper dressing.