Daddy's Girl

"TerBear, What A Scare."

I had only just walked through the door and I was bored and tired already.

I hate most subjects, but Maths is the worst.

The room is painted a nice shade of lime green, whereas the flooring is laminate; the lights were all in tact, except for the back few which had been broken due to various people throwing things at them- I can't say I'm not involved; the chairs are grey plastic, matching the desks- I dare say most of the chairs are broken or at least wobbly; at the front of the room sits the Teacher's desk- some modern, birch wood thing with folders and books of all kinds piled neatly- along with a large whiteboard.

The Teacher, oh Jesus Christ, the Teacher.

Her name is Ms. Addams; a groggy, moaning woman in her late fourties.
She's always complaining, even when there's nothing to complain about. She can always find something- or make something up- to moan about. I can't lie; she's pretty clever; but damn can she moan.
Her mousey brown hair is usually up in some sort of messy up-do, and the roots are going grey; she wears an extremely thick pair of bottle bottom glasses, which are usually slipping down her hooked nose; most of the time, she wears either a green or lilac skirt- equipped with a matching blazer and white or lemon blouse, along with a pair of black witch-like heels. She's very skinny, quite tall- and along with her ear piercing shriek- she makes a pretty bad teacher. Let alone person.

I slipped in: I wasn't late, I was just on time. I made my way towards the back desk, where I sat- alone. I liked it that way; nobody to bother me, ask me questions or offer to help me with my mathematical struggles, but make absolutely no sense in the process.
I threw down my bag and pulled out the chair; sat back with my arms folded by by stomach and my legs out.

"MATTHEWS!" Ms. Addams bellowed. I sighed, I really was not in the mood; especially not after my pleasureable aquaintance with Brianna this morning.
"Yes, Miss?" I replied, my eyes half shut.
She made her way towards my desk, floating between the aisles; eventually reached mine and leant on the table. Her breath almost knocked me out, it was awful. Garlic, something I really can't stand. I held my own in a polite effort not to throw up or gag in her face.

"Have you..." She began, she spoke extremely slow.
Yes, I probably have. No, I probably shouldn't have. I thought to myself.
"Have you... By any chance..." She began again.
Most likely.
"Have you, by any chance, stolen a certain little thing from my desk?" She accused me.
No, no I have not. Hypocritical old hag. I thought to myself.

No lies, I've done some stuff: accidently smashed a window or two in P.E, somehow took a door off it's hinges in the History block, possibly shattered a boiling tube in Science... But stealing is one of the things I would never do.

I sat forward, folded my arms on the table.
"No, I most certainly have not stolen a single thing from anywhere in this room. Nor in this school, to be exact." I said in a tired groan.
She narrowed her eyes, the amount of age wrinkles was shocking.
"Liar." She accused again.

What was it with people and trying to get on my nerves today?

"In that case, what have I apparently 'stolen' from your beloved treasures?" I asked her sarcastically.
Her mouth became a screwed up mess of wrinkles and cracks that needed to be filled, her eyes became narrower and her glasses slipped further down her nose. She was silent. Not a single word.

She clearly was just trying to get me into trouble, as usual.

"Exactly." I groaned to myself, ensuring that Ms. Addams wouldn't hear.
She pushed herself up from the desk and floated back down towards her own.

By now, the class was getting fuller.

I suppose- despite the fact of Ms. Addams being hateful and my strong dislike towards the whole subject of Maths- it wouldn't be too bad a lesson if I actually had friends, or Mia. I had neither of those.

I knew a few people in the lesson: Rae Owens- an African-American girl- with huge, curly hair and a pretty dimple smile. We've spoken a couple times; the one time I asked if I could borrow a pen and the other she offered to patch up my hand after I punched my locker in anger and cut open my knuckles, which I sheepishly accepted. She seemed polite enough on those few occasions.
Jackson Whitehouse- a tall, skinny boy with black, short but messy waves and gorgeous green eyes. He plays guitar and we've spoken once; I complimented him on his guitar skills, he smiled and said he could teach me some time. He never did, because I got shy about it and never spoke to him again.
Cayla Rogers, a geeky girl with sleek hair and a braced smile. She recommended a book to me in the Library once, and helped me out on some homework I was struggling with.

And of course, there's Markus. The cute guy with a dark, messy quiff and beautiful brown eyes; who's especially good at skating but seems pretty shy. And, you know about our conversation.
He said I was stupid and I sarcastically replied with "Thank you."

When the class was finally full; with the acception of a few people: Thom Hart, Cieran Waters and Peter Glover- who skipped most lessons; Ms. Addams finally began teaching the boring subject I hate more than any...

"TERRI MATTHEWS!" Ms. Addams bellowed.
I awoke.
My head shot up from the desk, faster than anything.
"Huh, what?" I mumbled sleepily.
Almost the whole class was looking back at me, some snickering while others frowned.
I looked around my desk; there were a few balls of screwed up paper strewn across it and the floor near me.

About fifteen minutes or so must have passed while I was out.

Ms. Addams strutted towards me like a soldier reporting for duty.
"You, young lady." She started, talking faster than I had ever heard her talk.
"Head's office. Now!" She demanded, her face stern.

I was completely confused; oblivious to everything that was happening.
"Wha? Wh-What did I do?" I asked her, unknowing.
"NOW!"

I didn't even bother to pick my stuff up- I didn't even remember it, to be honest. My chair went back, quick as a flash and up I shot.
Towards the door, everyone- including Markus- was watching me as I sleepily stumbled until I reached my destination.

Taunts and calls followed me.
"DADDY'S GIRL!"
"MAD MATTHEWS!"
And the all time favourite of the school, the little song:
"TerBear, what a scare! Daddy died and no one cares! You're just a freak without a Daddy, ain't your life just so crappy!"

I began to race out of the door and slammed it shut, stormed down the corridor to the Head's office in the block next door.

That's when it all hit me.
My Mom and her usual antics.
The fact I had left Mia, letting her think something had happened.
My shove with Brianna and her words and taunts of "How's Daddy?" along with "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot your Mother is all you've got."
Ms. Addams' wrong and innapropiate accusations of me being a thief.
The fact I fell asleep in a lesson.
The taunts and cheers:
"TerBear, what a scare! Daddy died and no one cares! You're just a freak without a Daddy, ain't your life just so crappy!"

Everything hit me.
Everything.

And that's when the tears began to escape, as I burst through the door of the Head Teacher; Mr. Robins.