𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐱 𝐎𝐂
That's all they ever thought she'd be good for. A good imprint. Quiet... caring... nurturing... she'd never be strong like her brother. She'd never be enough to meet the standards they set for a true, worthy warrior. So w...
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❝ Can't stay at home, can't stay in school
Old folks say, "You poor little fool"
Down the streets I'm the girl next door
I'm the fox you've been waiting for ❞
𓆩⛥𓆪
Jo softly hummed a tune beneath her breath, boredly drumming her fingers against her desk and staring blankly out the window as the raindrops slid down the glass and the monotonous drone of her math teacher's voice lulled her into a daydream.
It was ridiculous, Jo thought, that with all that she had seen and dealt with over the past year and a half of her life, that she still had to sit through these mind-numbingly boring classes that did nothing but put her off to sleep — and, god forbid, if she needed the bathroom because then she'd actually have to ask this middle aged man for his permission to perform a basic bodily function and then listen to him complain about the fact that her body had chosen to perform said function during his class. I mean she was the freaking Thunderbird, made to protect his defenceless human ass; a few months ago she had almost died at least twice and actually killed a vampire for crying out loud!
So, yes, school was tedious but there she was, suffering through it like all the other teenage dirtbags in that prison they call a school.
"Miss Black!" The teacher raised his voice, trying to get her attention.
Jo sighed and dragged her gaze over to him. She was having way more fun racing raindrops on the window than actually paying attention to the class.
"Yes, Mr Hunt?" Jo replied in a forcibly honeyed tone.
"I asked how you would go about solving this problem?" He repeated himself with an edge of annoyance.
He raised his brows, likely expecting that she wouldn't know how to answer and then make an example out of her and proceed to lecture everyone in the room about the importance of paying attention because "he didn't want to be there any more than they did" or whatever.
Feeling the eyes of all her classmates on her, Jo glanced at the board and instantly recognised the displayed question from their textbook. She had already done it ages ago.
"Just differentiate the equation and sub in the given values to find the gradient of the tangent at that point," she explained boredly.
The rest of the class turned to their teacher, waiting to see if she was right. Mr Hunt's eyes darted to the side and he shifted uncomfortably — probably trying to readjust the stick up his ass, Jo guessed.
"That is correct..." he reluctantly said, turning back to the board.
Jo smirked. He didn't dare bother her again for the rest of the lesson.
