Losing My Religion ⚣ {trikey}

1: Losing My Religion

(photo cred ; neomineom)

"Biology... bi...ology," my friend Wade sounded the class name out. "Bi-sex-u-ology. Bisexuality. Hey Trevor," he smiled widely. "This is your class!"

"No it's not dumbass. It's a science." I rolled my eyes.

"I know, I was just trying to make it better."

"Well shut up. I'm not one for labels." I said defensively and grabbed a cigarette from the carton I had in my book bag.

I didn't care if I got into trouble. I didn't care about school.

I turned on the burner in front of me and the flame came out. I leaned forward and turned my head to the side to light my cigarette.

"Hey - no smoking!" The teacher Mr. Morris, a very nervous and skinny middle aged divorcee man exclaimed.

I puffed on it while looking him straight into his beady brown eyes behind thick glasses.

"Detention Mr. Philips." I could tell he forced himself to say it. I'd like to tear his Christian scrotum.

"Perfect," I put my arms out. "It's a date. I'll bring drinks." That arises a chuckle from the class.

Mr. Morris' eyes were wide. "Absolutely not Trevor! You know drinking is not allowed on the school campus!" He took me seriously.

Then the phone in the class rang. Morris bit his tongue and answered it. "Trevor you could get in a lot of trouble." Wade observed.

"You're so smart. Good job Wade." I rolled my eyes.

Morris made eye contact with me with a smirk. "Speak of the Devil. Trevor. Office. Now." Morris hung up the phone.

I threw everything into my bookbag for the bell was about to ring and stomped out of the room.

I walked down the dirty halls, glaring at any freshmen who looked at me, and made my way to the office.

"Yes, Trevor The secretary Ms. Carla asked from behind her big circle rimmed glasses and heavy makeup.

I internally cringed while looking at her poor makeup. "I uh, I guess Weber wants to see me?"

She picked up the phone and dialed Weber's number which was pointless. His office was 10 feet away. I lightly groaned and leaned onto one foot with my arms crossed. I heard his phone ring in the other room.

"Hi Mr. Weber," she said into the phone with a smile to herself. "Trevor Philips is here to see you."

"Send him in." I heard faintly.

"Yes sir," then she hung up. "Go right in Hun." She pointed to his door.

I said nothing and walked past the desk and to Weber's dark wooden door.

"Ah, Mr. Philips." He greeted. He was a very tall Italian brown haired man with a mustache. He was taller than me and I was 6'1 at 18 years old.

"I might be." I slouched in a chair across from his desk. The interior of the room wasn't been remodeled since the 70s.

"I need your mother to sign this. We tried calling but she didn't answer. Since we don't have a father on profile to contact we are sending home a failure notice."

Fuckin wonderful. He slid the paper across the desk to me and I grabbed it and read over it quickly. It was just a paper reminding me about how I was gonna go no where in life. I grumbled to myself as I shoved it into my bag. Then the bell rang. Since I didn't ride the bus and drove my car to school, I didn't have to leave just yet.

"The only class you seem to excel in is math. We are still looking for tutors Trevor. It could help with your grades for extra credit."

"Still asking me to tutor?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes I am young man. I want you to succeed."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever man. I gotta get home."

"Alright. But I need that signature tomorrow morning." He said and dismissed me. I jumped up and left his musty office. After passing Carla's desk, she jumped up to go into his office.

The crowds had left and it was just me walking out of the depressing brown building and to the parking lot. The cold air brushed against my face and gave me goosebumps.

I trudged through the snow to my piece of junk car. I opened the door and tossed my bag in and then basically tossed my body in. I turned the key and the car roared to life and my Billy Joel CD continued.

"I just want you to succeed." I mocked him. "Fuck. You."