Be Not Easy

Chapter 2

"Gooooooood morning owls!!! Welcome to another day at Winston High!"

The intercom blares it's usual announcements, a chirpy voice at the end. I turn the corner to walk to my locker, which happens to be right beside the boys bathroom on the ground floor.

I mentally pinch my nose as I approach. Ugh, I am so glad this is almost over.

Two weeks of school left. Two weeks left of rude hallwakers, pompous girls, noisy athletes.....

I smile to myself in anticipation

I'm not exactly what you would call the social type and actually, never have been. When I was younger sometimes I would try, (I mean, really try) to be "in" with people, it fascinated me to no end when I saw the social butterflies and their trail of friends. But over time, it grew tiring. I found myself being maneuvered here and there, and over time I came to the conclusion that being soliditary wasn't such a bad thing. I've learned to love and accept my antisociality.

Thats' why as I walk past the lockers into science class, I bump into someone who can't get enough of it.

"So I guess looking straight ahead to even too much to ask of you now, right?" she sneers. Jasmine Brooks runs a hand through her long hair and quirks a brow. "Because obviously you can't even do that, smart one." Her pink-tipped fingers dance a little when the meet her bag, tapping there impatiently, waiting for a response.

I prick my mind for some clever comeback, but my mind is empty of all the smart-ass responses that I've stored there for times like this . Come on don't  let this happen again.

All I do is glare at her, wishing it were enough to burn right through her stupid nose to her brain. I hear some giggling and turn my gaze to her flock, three typical queen bee wanna-be's. They flicker their eyes at me, amusement playing on their mouths like this is some sort of game. I didn't even bump into her. She wasn't paying attention, flapping her mouth this way and that, not looking up and not caring because she had some odd feeling that people would stop to let her walk. I suppose she even expected the door would open for her on its own. Like she's some sort of goddess, or something.

I roll my eyes at that one. Yeah, right. She's what you would consider pretty, yes I admit. But really she's a turd, her and her little lambs alike, and of course no one realizes that when she smiles her bright smile and bats her lashes like some sort of doll. I try hard to ignore it.

I walk around them as calmly as I possibly can and continue into class, where I head to the closest seat to the front, farthest to the left. No point in even starting it with her, she's never gonna shut up.

Just forget it. Concentrate, Ruth. We have a quiz coming up. Concentrate.

 I love my seat here, it's secluded enough to focus and up close enough not to miss anything. Plus, there are little to no worries about doing something potentially weird in front of the whole class. Something Miss Brooks would abosolutely die for to make her laugh.

 I slip in the cold desk, pull out my binder and a couple of pens, and patiently wait for Mr. Crow to say something. After a few minutes of class chatter, his pudgy form walks up to the front of the room, his hand wiping a bead of non-existant sweat from his brow.

"Mornin', class, I want you to pull out your homework assignment from last week, today we'll go over it  a bit so there won't...."

And so it begins.

After a long lecture about catalysts and inductors, the bell rings and students flood out into the hallways. I pack my bag and give Mr. Crow a small nod, and he smiles in return. He's one of my favorite teachers, mainly because if he despises what he does for a living he doesn't let everyone know it. Besides, he's great at it, I came in this class not even knowing fully what an atom was and know I'm figuring out deep set equations.