Biker Babe

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Harley POV

English was okay. Ms.Olmadeo was a very unorganized woman who was quite skittish. She wore loose black clothing and her shoulder length black and grey hair parted in the middle. Her shoes looked like big black boxes tied to her feet. She spent most of her class time lecturing us on how the world is so sexist and racist, making bad jokes, and saying things she thought sounded deep and meaningful. I feel like when she was younger she wanted to be a big important poet or journalist but it never worked out. I could tell she had watched too many movies where the teacher comes in and teaches troubled students how to reach their goals. I couldn't help but think of her as pathetic. Maybe I'm just being harsh because when I first walked in she made me introduce myself, no matter how much I protested.

My next class was chemistry and was taught by Ms.Lamers. Ms.Lamers was a young woman with shoulder length hair and dark eyebrows. Dressed in grey skinny jeans, a floral blouse, and brown flats, she taught us the beauty of chemistry. She also made me introduce myself no matter how much I protested but she had an air of respect to her that didn't make me so irritated to do so.

Calculus. My teacher was called Mr. Williams and he was a young teacher who was over excited about math to say the least. He dressed in normal khakis and button down shirts. His hair was weird because his beard and head hair was different colors.his bread being a ginger red and his head hair being light blond. I kept on wondering all through class weather he dyed it or not and if he did why. I noticed that when he got over excited about what he was teaching or he got mad at a student he would start to stutter. I liked Mr. Williams, he didn't make me introduce myself and he truly enjoyed what he did.

My morning classes flew by and before I knew it was lunch time. Students had the option to go off campus for lunch but I didn't feel very hungry. I decide to go to the back of the school to have a smoke. As I walked to the back of the school a skinny tall guy came walking up to me. He had long black hair that was partly shaved and was dressed in black skinny jeans, a leather jacket, and tattoos. His face was decorated with a lip ring and... Eyeliner?

"Hey wait up!" He yelled at me panting. Finally catching up to me, he rested his hands on his knees. "Are you" pant," the one" pant," with the" inhaler, “bike?" pant.

Ignoring his breathing problems I said," What's it to you?"

His breathing was almost completely controlled except for a slight wheezing. "Its beautiful. Correct me if I'm wrong but is it a Honda '98?"

“‘96 " I corrected him as I kept walking. When I finally got to the back I was hit with the smell of pot and cigarettes. There were about ten kids in the back, most smoking pot. I sat on the ground, quickly lighting up a cigarette.

The boy sat next to me but not before blowing some smoke out from his face. "Zack" He said sticking his hand out for me to shake. I looked at before rolling my eyes and taking another drag from my cigarette. Putting his hand back in his pocket he started to bombard me with questions. "So how could you afford it?"

"It was my dad’s."

"And he just let you have it?!"

Not wanting to talk about my dad I just responded with a nod.

"Oh my god that is so cool! And was it always in such good condition?"

"Nah it was a piece of shit when I got it. I practically had to build it from the ground up."

Zack’s face went serious. "Will you marry me?"

I couldn't help but to let out a bark of laughter. "Sweetie you don't even know my name."

"Yes I do you name is Harley." I gave him a look telling him to explain why he knew my name."I'm in you first period English class."

I just nodded my head in understanding.

I suddenly noticed a girl wearing all black sitting under a tree, her red hair covering her face like curtains. "Hey Zack, who is that?" I asked as I pointed to the girl sitting silently.

"Oh that's Zoe. She’s a mute."

"You know she doesn't talk?” I asked curious.

“No one knows why. There are all types of rumors out there saying that she use to drink bleach and it burnt her throat so it hurts for her to talk and some say that she is just a bitch and that she thinks that she is too good for everyone. I think she just has a lot on her mind and is too kind to burden others with her troubles." He said while gazing at her

I couldn't help but smirk. "You sure I'm the one you want to ask out?"

"Huh?" He grunted still gazing at Zoe. Shaking my head I looked back at Zoe. Zack was wrong. Something had happened to her. Something so terrifying and scary that she is scared to speak about it. She is so scared to speak about it but it is always on her mind and she’s scared that she might say it on accident that she decided to not talk at all.

BRINNNNNGG!!

Quickly standing up and stomping out my cigarette. Turning to Zack I said," Well it was nice meeting ya Zack and you should ask out that Zoe girl." and then I quickly walked to my next class. History.

My history teacher was named Mr. Smith. He was a middle age man with sideburns and a monotone voice. He was quite skinny but wore baggy clothing. He didn't make my introduce myself so I don't hate him. We spent the class period taking notes as he lectured in his monotone voice. Half the class was asleep, Mr. Smith knew but I don't think he cared. Throughout the class he made smart ass comments and joke that most students didn't get because he said it in such a serious voice except me. His comments kept me giggling threw out class.

Walking out of class and to my next one I heard a few girls giggling about the French teacher, Mr. Roberts. Rolling my eyes I walked into my French class. Ignoring everyone I went to the back to sit down right before the teacher came in with a stack of papers.

"Allez bien classe aujourd'hui nous arrivons à en apprendre davantage sur les proverbes (Alright class today we get to learn about proverbs!)" I snapped my head up when I recognized that sexy deep voice spewing French elegantly.

There he stood in all his glory. Dressed in a crisp white button down that was tucked in his khakis and a bright red tie that went with his beat up red Converse. He still hadn't notice me maybe he won't until after class but god knows how unlucky I am.

"J'entends que nous avons un nouvel élève. Pourquoi ne pas vous montrer votre visage et vous présenter?(I hear we have a new student. Why don't you show your face and introduce yourself?)"

I had learned French because well... I have a lot of free time so I knew exactly what he said. Making my voice sound higher than it really was in hopes that he wouldn't recognize it. "Um I rather not."

"Française s'il vous plaît Ms.Travis. (French please Ms.Travis.)" His voice faltering towards the end of his sentence, now realizing who it was.

Giving a slight growl of annoyance that I hoped no one heard. "Mr.Roberts Beaux. Mon nom est Travis Harley. J'aime des vélos et je suis allé à l'école publique jusqu'à ce que j'avais 15 ans quand j'ai été sorti et a été autodidacte jusqu'à tout récemment. (Fine Mr. Roberts. My name is Harley Travis. I like bikes and I went to public schools until I was 15 when I was pulled out and was self taught until recently.)" Repeating what I said in all my other classes except this time in fluent French, surprising Mr. Roberts or do I call him Ryan?

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