He's Basically My Brother M.C.

enin-ytriht

"michael!" the screechy voice screams

caniva.

"yeah? what do you want?" michael asks, bored out of his mind because shes here

"i was thinking if we could have a quickie in the bathroom" she says 'seductively', batting her fake eyelashes

"not right now, im trying to study" he says pointing to the papers

"but you never study! and youre studying with this whore" she points to me in disgust

"well im trying to pull my grades up in spanish, and shes not a whore" he rolls his eyes

"c'mon, itll only take a minute" she winks

he looks at me. i gave him the 'why are you looking at me? its your problem' look and shrugged

"i'll be right back then" he stands up from his chair, his chair screeching against the floor. caniva squeals like a pig and claps her hand in excitement.

how can he stand her?

he pats me on the head and walks out of the classroom, caniva walking right behind him.

why does the bathroom have to be next to spanish class?

-

honestly, it sounds like a pig was slaughtered in there. (id pay michael to kill me tbh)

the most disturbing part is, is that michael is a brotherly figure to me and i would never want to hear or see my brother doing the 'do'.

michael came back after what felt like a hour. i look at the clock and see lunch is almost over. i have art with michael next.

i shrug and pack up my things, organizing michaels, and i walk out of the class room with my bag on my shoulders and a binder in my hand.

i start walking to art class and run my fingers through my brown hair. i need a haircut.

i walk through the art rooms doors and sit at my usual seat. i take out some homework and start to finish it.

-

"get into your pairs from yesterday" mr. tams voice booms throughout the room

mrs. chuns class walks to their assigned partners, shuffling, sneakers squeaking against the floor, and small talk fills the room.

"where were you? i was going back to spanish and you werent there" michael asks, sitting on the chair besides me

"the bell was gonna ring, i went ahead of you" i shrug

strands of his fiery red hair were stuck to his forehead by sweat. his eyes just a little darker than usual.

"anyway, help me with my drawing" he takes a random piece of paper on the table

"can i borrow a pencil?" he asks

"no" i say immediately

"whats with you?" he scoffs and stands up to get a spare pencil

i dont want him touching me, or my stuff, after what happened. thats disgusting. chills shoot through my spine just thinking about it.

"are you cold or something?" michaels eyebrows furrow as he sits back down in the chair

"n-no, just thinking" i stutter

"yeah, 'thinking'" he makes finger air quotes