Angel Boy

Fun Fact.

            “What were you thinking?”

            A sigh escaped through my nose while my eyes scanned my atrocious cuticles.

            “Are you even paying attention to me?”

            “I think,” my voice came out slow, calculating. My eyes adverted from my nails to Mr. Michael. “I think you should calm down before you have an aneurysm.”

            Mr. Michael continued to give me an acidic glare as he sat down in his office chair. The vein that protruded from his forehead slowly diminished, his scarlet face and cheeks cooling down from his temper. His chest still heaved with heavy breathes as he clasped his hands together tightly over his desk. Dull brown eyes met my own.

            “You’re lucky I can’t expel you, Miss Summers. If I could—you’d be long gone.”

            I smiled innocently, shrugging my shoulders. “Yes, but you can’t. For my wondrous GPA is the only thing supporting this school—well, besides the money my father puts forth.”

            If possible, Mr. Michael’s glare grew deeper into a scowl. He knew I was right; I knew I was right. There was a scarce number of intelligent students, I happened to be one of those few. The school’s district had certain qualifications that it must meet to continue to function. One of those requirements was all tests administered must have a passing rate of thirty-percent or more. If I were to be expelled, the school wouldn’t achieve that percentage mark.

            I could do whatever I wanted without facing the consequences.

            Clasping my hands together while inhaling deeply, I smiled. “Well, I should get back to class. Wouldn’t be want to be late for class, eh?”

            Mr. Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just—Just answer me one question, Miss Summers.”

            I hummed as a response.

            “What have the Angels done to you that they deserved your hatred?”

            My teeth gritted together, my hands squeezing the chair’s edge. There was numerous reasons, too many to name. I cleared my throat. “I have my reasons.” Standing up roughly, the chair was knocked back by my knees. I yanked open the door and slammed it closed, storming out of the front office. How did Mr. Michael have the audacity to ask about my personal life? So many were bewitched by the Bird’s charms; Mr. Michael was one of them.

            Upon leaving the office, I recognized the three figures leaning against the wall. They made crude comments and abominable lines to suggest going to bed with them. A girl raised her middle finger and aimed it towards Reinhart, who in turn yelled, “When and where, babe?”

            Quinn’s arm came across my shoulder, pulling me to his side. “So?” he dragged out, his eyebrows lifting.

            I shoved my hands inside my leather jacket’s pockets. “So, we’re in the clear. Like always.”

            Alistar let out a lone cheer, startling some students who walked past him. But his shout soon turned into a hacking cough.

            “Told you to lay off the cigarettes, dude,” Reinhart reminded him, slapping Alistar’s back.

            “Yeah, all that arsenic, formaldehyde, lead, hydrogen cyanide, nitrogen oxide, carbon monoxide, ammonia, and forty-three other carcinogens can take a toll on your lungs,” I said, the fact sprouting in my brain and flowed from my mouth.