Theresa Jackson (on hold)

The dream..

Hey guys this is the new edited version of Theresa Jackson.Hope you like it.

Many thanks to BlanchKlemtz for editing, it's so much beter thank you!

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My name is Theresa Jackson, but my friends call me Rissa for short. I'm sixteen years old, Five foot four. I have aqua blue eyes, and jet black, wavy hair.

The Dream...

"I'm so late!" I muttered under my breath.  I hated Physics. Why did it have to be so far from Maths? I seriously hope Mr Phillip doesn't flip again. This was my third time being late to his class, is it my fault for always forgetting my bag...? 

I actually make it in time to find out his not even here yet.

Fortunately.

I scan the full room for a chair, until I see my best friend Alanta waving at me.I smile at her and head to back corner where she is sitting.

“Is he here?" I ask her, crossing my fingers.

"Who?" she says, crumpling her brows.

"Mr Phillips, duh." I say, rolling my eyes. She can be so difficult sometimes, "oh, yeah, right. No, he's not, we have a supply today." She tells me, waggling her brows. I roll my eyes, and start to get out my things. 

“I don’t think he’ll be in for a while...” she says. 

"Thank god!" I say relieved. I seriously dislike that teacher; he gives way too much homework—speaking of homework; I forgot to do it, so that’s another bonus for his absence. That’s not the only thing; he also stinks—really bad. His breath smells of decayed fish, his clothes smell of sweat, and his hair is always too greasy—he probably didn’t wash that either. You’d think a science teacher would at least find a few minutes in their day to wash, seeing as they know the consequences of being unhygienic. I look around the spacious room, seeing that everyone has heard the news, and have unwittingly decided to kill time by listening to iPods, and throw about paper aeroplanes.  

“Want some?” Atlanta says, sliding over a silver coated gum packet. 

“Thanks,” I say, slipping a pink cube into my mouth. I chew it, enjoying the sweet cherry juice followed by....”Aaaarrgh!” I spit out the gum furiously, grab a nearby bottle of water, and start to gulp it down. Atlanta’s shoulder’s  start shaking, I can’t see her face, but when I realise she is laughing, I flick her shoulder, 

“Ow, what was that for?” she says, almost seriously before I see the amusement flake in her eyes, smear her face, until she laughs again. My face is hot, my tongue is burning. What kind of gum was that? I am panting now, waiting for the flame to die out. 

“What was that?” I say, squinting, lifting up the packet, and examining it. She grabs it and turns it over, tapping the label.

“It’s red hot gum. Seriously hot.” 

“You don’t say,” I say sarcastically.

“Your face was so funny like,” –she imitates, puffing out her cheeks and crossing her eyes—“definitely worth it.” she smiles to herself. I roll my eyes and look out the window. Maybe I’ll find it funny another day—not so soon.

But believe it or not, Alanta has been my best friend since third grade. We have practically lived our lives as sisters—which would explain the little joke she just played on me. She's really pretty with her emerald green eyes, and blonde hair. Plus she has a body to die for. Guys are always drooling over her, and she's completely oblivious to it all.