Sweetness

Give Me a Break

Fucking hell... why me? – I am virtually a nobody, why would anyone want to ruin other peoples' lives – even though it may be their school life? And yes, school lives do exist and mine happens to be quite busy.

Honestly, these people have to be; so low in life that they need to vandalise and tear books apart which is A – bloody stupid because the books are expensive enough, even as second hand and B – completely fucked up because some people actually care about their grades and work their arse off to get a C because they have no motivation to get a 90 million dollar job at the age of 20, what so ever.
Myself though, I aim to get A's as the work is easy for my little genius brain, I don't like to boast but when there is healthy competition like there is here at Truro Secondary, nothing is better than being the best-of-the-best amongst some of the people here – just right now, I see nothing but red and want whoever did this to own the fuck up, or else I'm not going to be so nice.

Totti runs up to me. She was always flawless, minimal make up, ripped jeans and a new band t-shirt from her online shopping adventures. She throws her arms around me, ignoring her headphones which are her second most prized possession, repeating: "Are you okay?" "What happened?" "Who did this? They're in for it if I find out who!"
She places her hand around my wrist and squizzes it tight to get my attention, something we always do when we're unsure of what is happening and to make the other focus. I lift my gaze from my locker to her worrying face and back at my locker.
She can see the fire start in my eyes and everyone around us are laughing and taking photos, nothing makes me go off worse than this sort of environment.

"Mavis, where's the photo?" Totti asks shakily while looking through my humiliating locker.
It doesn't take much to make me snap out of this rage fuelled absent mind. The photo. My photo.

I search all through the cream infested locker. Photos are ruined – Totties face is half missing because of the acidity. My 'vandalism' is ruined and melting off the wooden side boards. Books are covered in this bloody shaving cream. The smell is so bad. The adhesive from the textbooks is corroding and giving off this revolting smell
"Where is it?" I whisper – my photo of us isn't here, it's my favourite and I can't find it. People around me ignore my franticness while Totti tells them 'the shows over', as I'm removing as much shaving cream as I can. It's flowing down the lockers below and covers my arms – I can feel the sharp cold stinging sensation of the foam substance soak me to the bone and fill in the gaps of my skin. The burn feels enlightening and Totti can see it too as she watches me, not doing anything because she knows she can't say anything.

"There!" Totti pulls out a silver ring from behind my, now ruined, science book. Our first piece of evidence, the only ring that is worn with the distinct insignia of a chapel. Brilliant, my first suspect but that happens to be the one and only; Master Jack Townes.

I walk down the hall, Totti close behind hoping I do something stupid and abrupt. Townes's slouching figure comes into view.
I'm so fired up, ready to blast the prick into outer space!

"Oi Arsehole!" I command, directing my frustration towards the incomparable Townes boy
"Why hello there sunshine, and the dark side of the moon!" he takes a glance at Totti and sneers "How are you on this fine day?" sarcasm so adamant in his voice
"You fucked up my locker! I want all my stuff back and in the exact condition everything was in when you took them. Without any god damn shaving cream! Comprende?" I'm steaming but I'm just getting started
"Woah! Hold your horses' cupcake, I didn't touch anything of yours. Anyway, why the hell would I touch any of your crap? I don't need to use any of your shitty books anymore, or use your 'genius little brain.' You kicked me out remember and that was a long time ago, if you don't remember?" I hate it when he avoids everything and puts it back on me as if I'm the bad guy...or at least was...sort of...
"You left your two-dollar ring in my locker after pulling all my books out, along with our photo. You know I hold it dearly, so give back the photo and the books you possess of mine and then I shall be on my way..." I hold the ring right up to his eyes as I see the red in his cheeks become bright and full because he hates leaving things behind. His OCD is unparalleled and it shits me, even his mates are spooked by the state of his room as it is nothing like what a regular, 18-year-old boy's room would or stereotypically should be.
"Listen Maverick and Goose, I did go through your locker but I didn't leave my ring in it" he shows off his left hand where his sparkling silver insignia rests. Fuck. "but I do not possess that bloody picture of your Ohana you hold so highly!" his harsh whisper was once attractive but now it sounds like a donkey being given the once over...multiple times.