Worlds Clash: Slaydie's

Le Festin

POV: CalumSparklez

Monday left Calum #brocken. Chewsday he was through with #hoppin.

After diagnosing himself with crippling anxiety as a result of the events from the first book, CalumSparklez thought that he would return to his usual nonchalant, goofy, oofy, ready, steady, freddy self this year. Unfortunately, a year and a half of T-posing in One Direction's living room was not a suitable substitute for therapy. School wasn't much help either... and one of his best friends nearly dying the day before certainly wasn't doing him much good.

Speaking of anxiety, Calum's next class was taught by the man who trapped him in a classroom with a meth lab-owning, racist, talking dog and an obsessive fangirl infatuated with one of his gay best friends. It was none other than AP French. Whoopty fuckin' doo. He slowly walked into the class a bit earlier this time around, appearing as cool as Larry the Cucumber, but felt a lot more like Bob the Tomato. Mack and y/n had already arrived by the time he walked in and all the boxes and such were arranged on the desks again.

"How'd your detention go yesterday? The 1D lads had to go rescue you and all. Seemed like something went down," Mack inquired.

"Uhm..." Calum glanced over at Nicolas who was glaring right back at him... menacingly. "It was definitely interesting, and I nevah want to gaur back." The bell rang, and surprisingly enough, a certain (very obnoxious) presence was missing from class.

"Tu as besoin de leçons en francais si tu veux éviter le detention," y/n suggested as fax machine noises rang through Calum's three brain cells. Y/n took her rose-gold iPhone 7 out of her average-sized quirky flannel pockets, making sure Nicolas didn't spot her. He was clearly too busy staring down Calum to notice. "This bird is gonna be your best friend. Lay low, don't speak, and do a lesson or two," y/n whispered, pointing to her screen which had the Duolingo app opened.

"BONJOUR CLASSE!" Monsieur Nicolas boomed, startling the gang, causing y/n to drop her rose-gold iPhone 7 clumsily. "Mademoiselle Astley, what was zhat sound? I trust you of all students wouldn't have a telephone dans ma classe?"

"Non, monsieur! C'était erm... mes lunettes!" y/n exclaimed, swatting the glasses off her face. She got onto the floor and began scouting for her glasses, Velma style, because as everyone knew, she couldn't see without her glasses. MackPat picked them up for her and propped them up to frame her caramel/chocolate/soft brown orbs.

"Ah mon Stampy, the quirky one strikes encore," Monsieur Nicolas rolled his creme brûlée croissant baguette brown-colored orbs. "I want no more shenanigans today. There will be des consequences if I see any shenanigans. I'm sure Monsieur 'Ood and his leetle friend can attest to zhat." Everyone's orbs landed on Calum. "Where is zhat fille bavarde anyways?"

"Ici, monsieur..." Ashley trudged into the class emotionlessly, avoiding all orb contact with anyone in the class as she neared her seat. She wasn't wearing her cheerleading uniform today, and instead opted for the standard khaki skirt and blue polo. She wasn't even wearing her noisy, chunky wedges, just a pair of black sneakers similar to what Michael usually wore. Calum didn't really know if he should say anything to her, even though this was clearly different. This type of 'different' was less ear-splittingly annoying, so maybe it wasn't too bad.

"Oui... excellent. Now excusez-moi, for I am going to take a, how you say, 'phat snooze.'" Nicolas announced before wrapping a French flag around him and proceeding to honk shoo honk shoo mee mee mee.

Calum took his Samsang Galaxy S5 with a stylus out of his Australian/New Zealander pockets to download that app y/n was talking about. That green bird was kinda lookin at him funny, but that bird was gonna keep him out of trouble, so it was worth the weird glares. He selected all the beginner shi and finally started his first lesson. Before he actually got to learn anything, he had to sit through an unskippable ad first.