Chapter 2: Grades

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BEEP BEEP BEEP

My alarm clock's version of saying "Rise and Shine!" Rang annoyingly throughout my room. I stretched and pulled the white sheets from my bed off me and threw my legs over the side. My hand slammed the "off" button on the alarm and I sat in the edge of my bed in silence for a few seconds, contemplating the strange dream I remembered from that night.

That girl, Rachel, was there, wearing the exact same thing she had been last time I saw her but this time, a smile shone on her face, greeting me warmly. For some reason, I was only in my underwear, which was what I was wearing when I went to sleep, and all the pen drawings I had made on my body during boring classes were visible. We kind of just floated in a black abyss, Rachel seemed to take an interest in my body artwork and approached me, running a slender hand down my left arm, where I had drawn the scales the day before during English. Her touch made me uncomfortable, probably because I was in my boxers while she was fully dressed, but for some reason, I welcomed it. "Can you do something like this..." She trailed off and removed her hand from my arm, training her purple gaze on me, "... Except with a dragon?" She asked, I paused, I had never done something like that for well... Somebody else, let alone a girl. Victor had always suggested it, saying I could probably make a lot of money out of it, but I had never really considered it.

When I finally made up my mind I nodded and then she just like... Well... Took off her shirt. And that's where the dream ended. I didn't even see her with her shirt fully off (n-not that that mattered) The dream left me with butterflies in my stomach. It was so weird, I had only spoken and heard her voice once yet, my mind seemed to be able to make a perfect imitation.

A loud knock came from my bedroom door, "Hey! Gar, time to get ready!" It was my mother, I glanced at the alarm clock, it was 7:30! It was way past time to get ready..!

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I clicked my pen constantly while I sat at the table in the school science lab, 4 rows of long, rectangular black tables were set up in the room. I sat at the one all the way to the left of the room, and all the way in the back as well. Normally, I'd kill for an ideal seat like this to just slack off, but that wasn't how it was in science. You see, for once in my life, I found something school related interesting, and that was biology. It kind of just, spoke to me. Maybe I just liked learning about how life itself worked, or maybe it was because we got the chance to draw a lot in class without getting in trouble, but whatever it was, it must've been getting me good grades because it was the only class other than art that I wasn't failing.

Today was different though, instead of getting to hear our teacher, Mrs. Pier, lecture us on the material, we had a sub because the teacher was on maternity leave, and all us students were stuck with was some Bill Nye the Science Guy video from what seemed like the 1800s.

What, TVs weren't invented in the 1800s? Well now you see why I'm failing History.

I desperately wanted to draw something on my other arm to go along with the scales I had created on the left one yesterday, but the cranky sub stood right behind me, it was a no go.

The thing is, I hated this sub the most out of all of those fresh out of college jerks, he was constantly on his phone with earbuds on, and even though he himself never paid attention, he demanded all the students did. I bet even if we were watching some gory horror film, that sub would just keep on scrolling his Instagram feed, looking up every once and a while to make sure everyone had their undivided attention on the film, not even second guessing why we were watching "Unfriended" in English class. It's like they didn't even have minds of their owns, subs just blindly followed the instructions of the usual teacher and even if they themselves had no idea what they were doing, they'd make it seem like they did and scolded anyone who didn't understand the completely confusing instructions they just gave out.

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