Good Boy, Bad Girl

Everyone Hates Sam Thompson

NOTE (21/09/19): I wrote this years ago when I was 12? 13? Something like that. I'm too busy now to be able to do a full rewrite and fix all of the many issues with this story, and it still means too much to me to want to delete it. If you still want to read this I'm grateful, and I appreciate every single view, comment and vote. But please bear in mind this was written by an idealistic, overly enthusiastic kid and is therefore far from a literary masterpiece. If you're still here, I truly hope you enjoy the story.

Hi! This is my first (and only) Wattpad story, so if you hate it please don't murder me. I'm new to this. I mainly wrote this because as much as I love a lot of them I got tired of seeing Good Girl/Bad Boy stories and wanted to see if I could write something different. Enjoy!

I hate everyone in this school so much.

I know, I know, I sound like your typical whiny teenager who doesn't like their school. And yes, I am a whiny teenager who doesn't like their school. But I'm also honest, probably the most honest person in this brick made hell. And I can tell you, from the bottom of my heart, I truly do hate everyone in this school.

I just find it difficult to believe that anyone can be as stupid as they are, let alone a whole school of people. Let alone a top set. But lo and behold, the people in front of me are arguing about whether Henry VIII was real or not.

We are in a history lesson.

I try to ignore it and focus on my work. We've spent the lesson studying the rise of Nazi Germany and how Hitler first came into power, and now we have to answer a GSCE style question about what we think the main reason he was so popular was. My wrist is staring to ache - it's been seven minutes and I've almost written a page. But the part that gets on my nerves the most is how the boy next to me is ignoring the fact that we have work and is focussing on studying an awkwardly staring at Vanessa Francis' chest. Never mind being lazy, that's just being a pervert. Not to mention incredibly creepy.

Then again, who would be surprised? It wouldn't be the first time Sam's done something like this. I still remember the groping incident...

No, Bobby. Don't. Nobody wants to remember that.

I bite my lip and look back at my work, planning on what to write next. I've pointed out my opinion and backed it up with plenty of evidence, but how to start my explanation...?

"Oi! Thompson!"

The attention of the entire class is caught as the sharp female voice breaks through the demented rambling of the thickheaded idiots in front of me. Even I turn my gaze away from the work to find the source of the voice.

Sam Thompson (unfortunately still sitting next to me) tears his eyes away from Vanessa's body and turns behind him. He grunts and narrows his eyes. "What do you want, Reeds?"

Angel Reeds glares at him, sharp green eyes fierce. "You're making it pretty obvious what you want right now. Please stop thinking with your dick, it's the only thing about you smaller than your brain."

The whole class whistles dramatically and I have to bite back a snigger. Mr King, our teacher, gives Angel a sharp glance. "Language!"

She rolls her eyes at him. "Instead of telling me off for a word I'm sure everyone in here has said before why not tell off your star student for ogling at a girl's chest? Anyone can see she's uncomfortable."

"Sam is not the one being reprimanded." Mr King says stiffly.

She rolls her eyes. They're a vibrant green colour, like leaves in summer. "That's my exact point, sir."