Stangory

Chapter 3- ✱Drama With Feelings✱

He's sitting two desks away from me. This isn't fair. I pout, fiddling my pencil, glancing at the somehow sober man. Despite the bullshit he gives.. He's kind of cute just sitting there all laid back. NO! I mustn't feel things for this roach... But oh.. Those blue eyes, sober or not, I still at times giggle to look into them to see my FACE REFLECTING IN THEM. I'm more handsome than him. I always need to make sure I am. Him? Handsome than me? Nonsense. I nearly took his girl when I was alive. I think she still likes me. I could pull her faster than Stan CAN pull himself to weed. If you think about it, that's a pretty prime example of how fast I can get ladies.

I kept fiddling my pencil, unable to help myself but wonder.. Is this just.. A horny feeling or.. Do I like him? How could I like such a man? For crying out loud, he killed me. But something about dealing with his shit.. It's so.. Sweet.. It makes me feel like y'know.. Maybe I can make things different.  But.. As I said, this dude killed me. How could I like such? Ugh. This is stupid. I just need to do my work and stop thinking about this ugly man... This is hard.. I'm hard.. I'm kidding, I'm not.. But God.. He just seems so quiet. Maybe.. I can try talking to him? Maybe he'll feel a way?  Goodness,

I can't think. I finish up my work and finally hand it in. He then scoots next to me, leaning in, seeming to go into a hot kiss.. Nope.. He just asked me for answers. As I said, SOME men. Shame. Shame. Shame. Of course I give him the answers, what else am I meant to do? This man is pathetic.. Is he turning me pathetic? I dunno.

I continue listening to the class, the soft rhythm of pencils slapping on deck once they're done writing and the sounds of quiet chatter. I feel a familiar tingle in my stomach, feeling Stan next to me. What does he want? What could he POSSIBLY WA- "Hey, Greg. Uhhh.. Are you busy? " Stan asked suddenly. He was.. Soft.. This man? Soft? Humbug.. Has to be. "What do you need? " I ask, annoyed by my mixed up feelings. He.. Wanted.. A pencil.

I can't tell him no, his poor little high self. I can't bare deny or reject him. I roll my eyes, frustrated with myself and hand him it... He smiled. This man.. Smiled. How? He's so high, he didn't seem to have emotions... And he.. Smiled. How? What's wrong with me? Ugh, this stupid mind of mine. Is this love? I dunno. The bell rung.. I best get myself ho-  "Uh.. Want me to.. Walk you home?" Stan said.. Walk.. Me home? Huh? Is Stan ok?.. This is weird.