Love Isn't Real- A mafia romance<3

I I 》 N E W S

Mrs Jones droned on, my head lay on the table, my arms next to my head.

Staying up to write that essay was not smart - the gang seems to be unknown. No one knows much about it. Even Miss asked me if I made it up.

"Elizabeth, am I boring you?" Mrs Jones asked, her frustration clear.

I rose frantically, wiping the hairs that stuck to my face.

"shit- oh fuck I cant swear can I- oh-" I slurred before slamming my head onto my desk.

What the actual hell is wrong with me?

"Young lady! I will not accept that kind of behaviour! This is a college !- not high school!" She shouted, wagging her finger at me.

"Sorry, my lady," I whispered before slumping back down into my chair and looking at the guy beside me.

"What?" I questioned him, his peculiar look angering me. I'm not in a good mood today.

He shrugged, giving me a dirty look and focusing back on Mrs Jones, before asking her a question about the English essay - something about poetry - William Shakespeare? I don't know, but I'm so tired.

I looked at the floor, only just noticing my leg bouncing up and down; I needed to get out of here, ASAP.

After pondering my choice for a while, I made up my mind.

"May I go to the restroom?" I asked.

"No, you may not." She replied, before carrying on about Shakespeare and his meanings about life - how the fuck are we talking about him, again.

I groaned after rolling my eyes and tapping my pen in a pattern on my desk. dun dun dun.

"What was that, Elizabeth?" She asked, furious now.

I'm not dealing with this crow today.

I sat up straight before looking at her; I knew she'd heard me, after all, I did sit close to the front, maybe the 3rd or 4th row.

I scoffed before grabbing my stuff, putting it in my bag, lifting my bag and leaving.

"Stupid child." She said, watching my every move.

With my backpack on one shoulder, I walked outside - I needed to escape. The moment I got outside of campus I sat on a bench nearby, my knees to my chest and resting my head on my legs.

Suddenly, I realised what I needed . I know I told myself I'd quit but I can't, I need it to live. Plus its only every once and a while.

I went to call Nate.

"Hey, birdie. You need some of the stuff?" He asked. I've never really wondered why people called me 'birdie', someone once said it's because I'm always high -like a bird , but that can't be correct.

"Yeah- yeah. Please." I pleaded.

"How much?" I asked.

"I'll give you 3 spliffs on the house, I heard about you finishing that entire bottle of vodka in 5 minutes. You need it."

"Can't I just have the coke?" I asked.

"Nah bird, last time I gave you some, I jokingly, emphasis on JOKINGLY dared you to eat a pound, and you did. Yo dumbass ended up in the ER, almost died and shit,"