Can't I be nice to you?

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It's the first day of classes, and I'm already late and falling behind; this is great. I mean, you might as well chop off my head and glue it to a stick and give it to them for a peace offering. When you're running through the halls, your steps echo, Making it sound empty and lonely. But that can't be more embarrassing or uncomfortable than barging in class when the teacher is sitting there staring at the door, waiting for you to make a mistake and give them a reason to complain or kick you out. My mistake will be held high over my head for a long time; trust me. I've seen students come in late and suffer from the fact that they are late not even Five minutes like just as the bell rings and here I am, running Ten minutes behind, just knowing my teacher is going to tear me another ass hole just because I was late to her stupid math class. College math, never take it if it was even a choice to take it in the first place, but it wasn't. There are so many classes you have to retake in college, even if you took them in high school, one being College math. I gripped the door handle, bracing myself for the worst as I entered the dimly lit classroom where the teacher was projecting the next class lesson. Of all the classes I had to be late for, it's the one that mattered the most. If you miss a lesson, I'll never get that bad. I silently sob as I snuck my way back to my desk, trying not to draw as much attention to myself, keeping my head down as I stared at the white floor, slowly sitting at my desk and looking up to see the teacher staring daggers I could feel the sweat dripping down my face.

"Y/N, you're late. Care to explain?" The teacher glared at me with her red eyes, making me feel like prey looking up at a hungry, dead-eating vulture.

"The front desk wouldn't let me. The front desk kept declining my card for this year's tuition, and I had to ask for extra help," I spoke in a muttered tone, keeping my voice so the others didn't hear me. I didn't want everyone to know I was poor, let alone struggling to get to school on time.

"Don't give you an excuse to be late, young lady. I'll see you after class to discuss this more professionally." She walked away from my desk, leaving me with the assignment, and I could only finish half of the work because I missed most of the class. She talks so fast that I can't seem to focus or even pay attention. Her voice was like nails on chalk, bored trying to listen. It even hurts my ears. I groaned, resting my head on the desk, trying to zone out to be anywhere else but this dumb class where nothing makes sense. I barely passed math in high school.

The bell finally rang. Thank all the lords above. I didn't think I could handle much more of the pain of doing more college math, and I didn't even get all of it done. I still have the first half, UGH! I yelled at myself in my mind, shoving the paper into my backpack. Maybe I can ask someone for help on it later. Perhaps they'll let me copy off of them to make life easier for me. I thought, leaving the classroom and heading into the wide hallways as I headed toward my next class. In history, only two students from my last class followed me, and I thought I should ask one of them for help. Still, the two I had to ask were Light Yagami, a young man at the top of our class, the ones we share anyway. Still, he always creeped me out. Something about how he mutters to himself about being and about wanting to be perfect all the time, making the world perfect freaks me out, and then there is Kasai Amaya. He's the primary quiet kid that sits in the back of the class. There's nothing extraordinary about him other than he was intelligent and savvy with math. Who, to my luck, was sitting right next to me they both were. I leaned over to Kasai's desk, whispering to get his attention.

"Hey, do you have the first part of the math work?" I asked as I watched him look up at me with his brown hair looking over as if I just offended his prize work.

"Yeah? But didn't you get it finished? It's not hard," Kasai spoke, his tone just as icy as his bright blue eyes. I rolled my eyes, looking at him like he said an entirely different language.

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