The Life of a Teenage Drug Addict

Chapter 2

   My first few periods were good. I had the same teachers as last year and my usual group was there, but without Trevor. Damn, I was really hoping to talk to him and see how he looked in his new, grown self. Lunch with Wyatt and my friend Taylor was good-minus the smushed PB&J I'd brought. So far, it looked like it was going to be a smooth sailing senior year.
   When I stepped into physics, my smile grew up to my ears when I saw Trevor. He sat in the middle of the classroom at one of the lab tables, flipping through one of the summer books quickly. He wore a Sex Pistols t-shirt that he'd had for years, but only now did he fill it out, and a pair of khaki shorts.
   I strode over and collapsed in the stool next to him, dropping my books on he table. He looked up with a smile when I sat down. "The Princess is gracing me her presence? Oh, I am so very truly honored."
   "As you should be. Sitting next to someone as grand as myself is everyone's dream." I leaned over and snatched up the book. "Grapes of Wrath?" I flipped it in my hands. "Didn't you read this over the summer?" I asked, eyebrows raised mockingly.
   He quickly snatched it from my hands and opened it back up to the middle. "Yeah, I just... forgot. I have English next period and I need to have this done. And you, little miss, are distracting me."
   I smiled. "Alright, little delinquent. I'll leave you alone to finish your summer work." I pulled out my binder from my stack of books and began jotting some notes down just as the bell rang.
   An unfamiliar teacher walked in the room. I was used to Ms. Newberry. She was always so nice and barely made her honors and AP classes do anything. This teacher was tall and thin, wearing a beige suit with a ugly green plaid tie. His hair was greying and he needed a shave. I didn't doubt he smelled weird, either.
   "Good morning class," he said crisply as he started writing his name on the whiteboard. "I am Mr. Riley," as it clearly stated on the board, "I am going to be your physics teachers for the semester." He dusted his hands as if he'd written in chalk and opened his bag up on the table.
   One brave soul, Regina Berch, raised her hand, Mr. Riley taking a few moments to notice her. "Um, hi. I'm Regina. Where's Ms. Newberry."
   "Ms. Newberry is out for personal reasons. I hope I'll fill her position well. Now, pass these papers back and open your books to two-hundred-ninety-one."
   The papers made their way back and I looked over at Trevor, who was looking up from his book, and made a face. He nodded in response and wrinkled her nose. We both obviously were thinking the same thing. What the hell kind of personal reasons would Ms. Newberry have. She told us everything. From the rash on her left thigh we obviously didn't need to know about to if she had a runny nose. This woman was not a private person.
   I passed the papers back as I opened my book, opening to a chapter named something I'd never heard before.
   "What kind of teacher actually does work on the first day?" Trevor whispered beside me, his physics book in front of himself with the summer book hidden inside.
   "Apparently this guy. I'm guess he has a stick shoved so far up-"
   "Ms. Miles?"
   I popped my head up to look at Mr. Riley, who was scowling at me, book in his hands. "Yes?"
   "Have something to share with the class?" His eyebrow raised. God, I hated people who could raise only one eyebrow. I always had to carefully emphasize my eyebrow raises so people wouldn't think I was surprised.
   "Just that we're all oh so happy that you'll be teaching our class this semester." I pulled on my best shit-eater smile as I said it, unable to help but let a little sarcasm slip through my teeth.
   Mr. Riley gave me a look as if to say 'Watch where you step, little girl' and continued reading the physics book aloud.
   As I followed along in the text, already confused, Trevor carefully took my hand under the table, surprising me to blushing red, formed it into a fist carefully, and bumped it, all while he read. Awesome, the totally cute dude-friend sitting next to me just bumped me. I was totally trapped in the depressing Friendzone Ghetto.