𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 | 𝙅𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝 𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙨

11: tell me why I get this feeling

I'm glaring at Charles from my spot, the class room silent. If it wasn't for his comedic entrance into the goddamn bible study, I wouldn't be sitting in this room, writing 'I will never interrupt a bible study class ever again' 100 times.

My hand is starting to hurt too, and this pencil is about to give out just like me. I let out a small groan as the lead snaps for what I think was the fifth time in the last 30 minutes, and I go up to the front desk to grab the pencil sharpener again.

Conveniently, my mother was also sitting in the front desk, making sure we don't utter a word. It was already 6pm, I'm tired and hungry, and I just want to go home. I give her a pleading expression, but she feign ignorance to me. How come she's not worrying about making dinner now?

I roll my eyes discreetly and sharpen my pencil before going back to my seat, my eyes sweeping over the classroom at the same time. We were all seated in different rows, far away from each other to minimize the chance that we might be communicating in any way.

I make eye-contact with Joseph, and he stares at me with the same dead-tired look I was probably wearing on my face as well.

As soon as I sit down, Maman stands up, face panicked as she looked at the clock. "Is it already so late? Jeez, I have to go get dinner started--"

Hallelujah, I scream in my mind, watching as my mother gathered her things. "Give me the papers next time we have bible study, and I'll have the janitor look after you guys," Maman sternly says, but we all know that the janitor could not give two shits about us.

She disappears behind the door, and I let out a relieved sigh as if 100 bricks had just been taken off of my shoulders, putting the pencil down and shaking my hand in pain.

"Your mom is fucking ruthless, Madeline." Jean says, and I turn around in my seat to get a better sight of them all. "I'm actually going to die if she calls my mom," Charles says exhaustedly, grabbing at his face.

I start folding my paper into a paper airplane, rolling my eyes at Charles' complaints. "Hey, you're the one who stumbled in with a goddamn lipstick mark on your neck, we just laughed at your idiotic ass," Joseph scolds, and Charles deflates in his seat.

Finishing the paper airplane, I chuck it at Charles' table, giggling when it hits his head. "Finish my paper, I've written like half of it," He looks at me incredulously, eyes wide as he groans. "You're the main reason for me being here anyways, so you do the rest of my paper,"

Joseph and Jean chuckle, and soon enough, they follow my steps and throw their papers at him too. Albeit, they're crumpling it up into a ball instead of folding it neatly like I did. Jean grins at his friend's obvious pain. "Yeah Charlie, you're the one that decided to get too down and dirty with your new girlfriend,"

Charles blushes, looking away in embarrassment.

I yawn tiredly and start packing my things up, the other boys watching my movements and copying them. Charles, on the other hand, looks around with a panicked look, eyebrows raised. "Wait, you're not actually leaving me here right?"

I sling my book bag over my shoulder, looking over at him and shrugging. "Hey, losers can't be choosers," He looks at me with an open mouth, as if he couldn't believe what I was saying.

"I believe it's beggars can't be choosers," Joseph butts in, but I shush him. God, could I have my moment for one minute? "Hush. Anyways, I'm going down to the ice cream shop," I go over to Charles, placing my horrible pencil on his desk.

With a big smile plastered on my face, I pat him on the head before heading to the door. "Oh, and remember, it's 100 sentences per paper, so around 400 to finish!"