Words of Stone (Teacher X Student)

F o u r

"Watup lesbian, had fun sleeping in class again?" My friend joked as she opened the car door. I laughed along and got in. I would've normally gotten my driver's license by now, but due to my large amounts of unexcused absences, I had my license suspend for two years, way to go me. Through the car ride, the radio blasted at us with weather information as I placed my feet up on the dashboard and got out my journal.
"Make sure I'm not sick, kinda felt feverish during detention. That new teacher felt weird, sort of child-like and in some weird way like an annoying guy friend from middle school. " I tapped my pencil against my chin thinking. I looked down at my hand and felt the place where he had placed his own hand. It's made my hands warm. "Oh f*** me!" I yelled loudly by accident, thinking I said it in my head. My friend surprised looked at me with confusion. "Hun, just because I called you a lesbian, doesn't mean you have to prove it to me," she said. I laughed and explained to her the reason for my profanity. Why was I thinking about a teacher at this moment? Why did he place his hand on mine when all he needed was my finger? Why am I still trapped in that same repeating moment? I hated myself for things like this. It's a selfish feeling to me. I hate being unable to think about things I want to think. Sounds weird, yes, I know. But it's like this. I enjoy noticing small things, coming up with endless ideas. But for some reason, instead, I have someone interupting those thoughts, more importantly, a teacher. Groaning in confusion, I smacked myself with the notebook, and tried to think of other things, proving to be a failure because it all led back to him.
. . .
By how long I've been in my room, I have come to learn what time it is based on where the shadow of my chair is. Right now, it's approximately about 6:30pm. (No s***, I thought it was a.m.) It's times like this where I notice all the flaws of my day, all the small things I could've changed, maybe even a small detail I missed at first. Most the time I end up realizing people aren't as bad as I thought, but today, I had nothing. Considering I had to find a way to save myself from any emo-like thoughts or emotions, I walked up to my bookshelf, and ran my fingers on the spine of all my books. I've been doing this ever since I began my journey on collecting boos, and by now, I knew then by heart, all but a few, which were new ones. I chose a spine I didn't recognize and opened up to the first page. Last thing I managed to remember was me waking up to my school alarm with a stiff neck, and a book in my hand.