Making Art With The Bad Boy

Chapter One

"Georgia..." His voice whispered my name, his accent coating it with pure velvet. 

"Georgia." He spoke louder, his blurry face bending over me. I puckered my lips towards his. 

"Georgia!" The shout rang in my ears and I woke up with a start, my eyes wide, my mouth forming incoherent responses. 

I blinked, my vision blurry, and rested my eyes on Ms. McCarthy's ugly face. She stood hovering above my desk, her clawed hands resting on her hips, as the wire connecting both her glasses ends swayed in the air. 

"Georgia," She spat, her thin lips dragged into a frown, "I asked you an important question, young lady. Were you too busy snoring to hear?" She emphasized the word lady, as if it couldn't possibly be used to describe me. 

"I, uh-" The class giggled as I stuttered and I cleared my throat, straightening up from my desk. The pencil case resting atop my binders slipped off and I reached out to grab it before it could make a sound. Unluckily, the case barely touched my finger tips, landing with a great clatter near Ms. McCarthy's hooves--I mean feet. 

She tsked, shaking her big head at me, and turned back towards the board. Somebody "pisss-ed" at me from behind and I turned to see Naomi handing me a slip of paper. I furrowed my brows, who passed notes anymore? She wiggled the paper, rolling her eyes, and gave me the just-take-it expression. I quickly snagged the note and put it under my desk, scratching the top of my head to give me an excuse to look down. 

There was an equation neatly written on the scrap, an arrow telling me it was the answer. I figured it was for the "important" question Ms. McButtcrack asked me and I braced myself to answer.  

"Georgia." She shouted, turning to face me, her navy blue skirt resisting her large calves. She fixed her Dame Edna looking glasses and raised her chin arrogantly, "Answer the equation on the board." She demanded, smirking slightly. I recited the answer and watched as her smirk slid off her face. She pursed her withered line of a mouth and sniffed, carrying on with her lesson. I glanced back at Naomi offering a smile as thank you and she gave me a thumbs-up, wiggling her brows. The rest of the lesson went by as usual with me pretending to write down equations, while I was actually sketching Ms. McKilljoy being attacked by angry monkeys. Spoiler alert, she didn't survive. 

The bell rang, signalling the end of third period and I sighed in relief, getting up to pack my things. My butt ached from sitting for so long and I stretched slightly, hearing my back crack two times. The class was nearly empty by the time Naomi and I exited the doors. The students in my math class had an uncanny ability to show up late every day at the start of the period, but still leave first at the end of it. 

Math was in the upstairs wing--my friends and I called it Satan's Chamber--and my locker was on the wing across from it. That wing was made up of English classes. 

"You're lucky I saved your butt today." Naomi told me, walking alongside me as we went to our lockers. Naomi was my best friend of sixteen years. She and I got along like a dress shirt with it's tie, each suiting each other nicely. Naomi was also the only one I fully trusted in the whole school, maybe even the whole world. We knew the majority of the students that went to Rochester since elementary, but that didn't mean we were close with any of them. 

"Yes, you did. I guess I owe you one butt cheek now." I sighed sarcastically. 

She laughed, "Maybe you'd better keep it, looks like you need it." She laughed loudly as my jaw dropped and I scoffed jokingly, swinging my pencil case at her head.

Ducking my blow, she ran the short distance to our lockers, laughing along the way. I let her go because I was the mature one. Also, I hated running.