Charlie Whitmen loves sports, junk food, video games, cars and basically anything-if not everything-your average teenaged boy would find interesting. But wait a second, Charlie isn't even a boy! Oh no, she's actually a girl!
Bet you didn't see that...
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Playing Scared Shitless
Once Principal Mallard finishes his welcoming speech which, in Charlie's opinion, lasted longer than it should have, the bell chimes again, informing everyone that it is time to head to first period. Charlie and Jillian are aware that they only have one class together since they exchanged schedules via text message a week ago and head in different directions. Charlie locates her first class with ease and has no issue getting comfortable. More and more students pile in after her and almost every seat in the class is taken. The teacher shuts the door and beams brightly at his students.
"Morning, kids. Welcome to the first day of AP Calculus," Mr Gherardi sings exuberantly with his arms spread wide open, as if he's going to embrace the adolescences planted in front of him. To his dismay, however, none of his students answer him and his smile falters a smidge. Ever so awkwardly, he clears his throat and grabs the folder lying on top of his desk. "I'm just going to take attendance now. Please do refrain from distracting me with your enthusiasm," he jokes dryly in attempt to get some kind of reaction out of them. He does not succeed seeing as they are all still very passive.
With much scrutiny, Charlie examines every single person in the classroom, even the instructor of the course. She can easily predict how this year is going to turn out. She can also tell you who's going to pass with flying colors and who's going to fail miserably by their current postures and demeanor. During her assessment, she pays no attention to Mr Gherardi reading through the roster until he reaches the end and calls out her name. "Charlotte Whitmen?"
She looks at him pointedly and corrects him. "It's just Charlie."
"All righty then, just Charlie." He grins and, surprisingly enough, the girl doesn't feel vexed with his lame response. Sure he's a cheesy and optimistic guy but there's nothing wrong with that. To her, it's a hundred times better than having a crabby, unreasonable teacher. The troll she had for chemistry last year is a prime example of the kind of employees the school shouldn't hire. "I guess everyone is accounted for except for one student. Now, where did I put that darn syllabus of mine?" Mr Gherardi scratches his head with one hand while the other rests on his hip. "Hold on a moment, children. I will be right back."
The door closes behind him and the chatter immediately starts up. A girl stationed three desks in front of Charlie spins around and furrows her eyebrows, obviously displeased about something. "Aren't you a junior?" she interrogates haughtily. Looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.
"Yeah and? Do you have a problem?" Charlie replies brazenly.
The girl whom she recognizes to be Mariana Sanchez, one of the overly stuck-up seniors in the school, scoffs out loud and flips her curly dark-brown locks to the side. "Bitch," she hisses under her breath before she spins back around to converse with her friend.
If she thinks she can get away with the name-calling, she's gravely mistaken. Because two can play this game. "Yes you are," Charlie sings.
A loud gasp slips past Mariana's lips, head whipping back towards the girl. Charlie's impressed she didn't break her neck during the process. She must be part owl. A couple of students, who are close enough to hear the exchange, snicker and try their best to control their laughter. "What'd you just say to me, underclassman?" Mariana sneers, the fury bubbling inside of her causes her veins to protrude out, looking like they're about ready to burst at any given moment.
