all i want :: s.m

7: phone call

monday ¬ february 1, 2016

Students rested their chins on their hands as their wooden desks supported their elbows. Some eyes were barely even open, and some eyes were already screwed closed. Even Mr. Angelo yawned a couple of times throughout the thirty-minute video he was showing to the class, in which a professor (who had an intolerable slow rate of talking) basically summarized the lesson that had been taught so far. It was a Monday—that was all there was needed to say.

"So why do you think humans are required to wear seatbelts when driving?" The professor asked, and everyone already knew the answer to the simple question. Inertia, the resistance of an object to change its state of motion and velocity unless a force is acted upon it. The motion, the person and the car; the force, the seatbelt.

In terms of vehicles, if one doesn't wear a seatbelt and find himself (or herself) in a situation where he (or she) collides with another vehicle, then consider that person dead due to either a broken skull (and a broken windshield) or the person's organs getting misplaced from its regular position in the person's body.

"That's right," the professor said after pausing a couple of seconds, although nobody answered. The class was as quiet as a cemetery. It was kind of like a Dora sort of thing. "Inertia. If you don't wear a seatbelt, then no force is going to stop the velocity and motion of your body. And there is a high chance that you will die..."

Ring! Ring!

Everyone looked around, puzzled—Mr. Angelo, with a scowl on his face. The sleepy students snapped back into reality, and the sleeping students woke up at the sound of a loud cell phone ringing.

Ring! Ring!

Ella Rose shut her eyes tightly, and under her breath, she whispered, "Fuck." while reaching into her pocket, looking at her phone screen. She took her bottom lip between her teeth and looked back at Mr. Angelo, who was looking straight at her, as well as the other nineteen students in the class. She tried to ignore Shawn's stare the most, for he was right in front of her.

"Miss Rose," Mr. Angelo begun, and he didn't have to say anything else.

"I'm so sorry, Mister Angelo," Ella apologized and glanced at her phone screen again, standing up from her seat. "I have to take this. I'm sorry." She quickly paced towards the exit, not waiting for an approving reply from Mr. Angelo before leaving the classroom, answering the phone call of which the caller was still anonymous.

Mr. Angelo blinked—he blinked a couple times—but he didn't bother to call her back in. "Okay then. Anyways..." Was all he said before averting his attention back to the projector screen. But no one paid attention to the slow-talking professor (as if they did in the first place); instead, they looked at the door, waiting for Ella to come back in.

That was what they did now—mostly everyone; they thoroughly observed whatever Ella Rose did. It was inevitable that they would eventually stop, of course, but for now, they perceived her.

Finally, after a good minute or two, she came back, an expression of stress clearly shown on her face. Mr. Angelo even paused the video. "What happened?" He questioned, but she didn't reply publicly. She went in front of him and spoke to him then, and he nodded at every word she explained. "Oh, alright." He finished and they watched Ella go back to her seat, taking all her things, and leaving.

It was unusual.

She just left.

But that seems be her thing, to leave—especially abruptly.

People had a blank mind; they were bemused. Yet, it was no surprise to them (Ella's random withdrawal from class). Because that was what she was—that was what made Ella Rose, Ella Rose. She was a mystery. A mystery that has yet to be solved.

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THE GIF, I'M SCREAMING! IT IS SO IRRELEVANT AND SO STUPID OH MY! WHY?!