PAISLEY
I walked into my class with puddles trailing behind my steps. As expected, every single pair of eyes was on me; each and every one showing a glint of pity and second hand embarrassment—for me. I simply held my chin up high and straightened my posture in a poised manner as I walked past the unfamiliar faces, with only having knowledge of two people in the class—well three if the teacher's included. I place my bag under the vacant seat beside Nick, who by the way has an evident grin plastered across his face. I plop myself down onto the seat. Instantly, droplets of water form a puddle beneath my ass causing embarrassingly loud squeaky noises from the constant rubbing between my ass and the chair. That was the moment that I realized that the whole class was silent. No one spoke a word, not even a whisper. Everyone was mute. Mr. Caravans stood in front of the class, clearly trying to stifle the laugh that is threatening to come out. The cause of all of this is probably because of my head-turning, eye-catching entrance.
"Mr. Caravans, as much as I'd love to not hear a single thing come out of your mouth, I think it'd be very much appreciated by a few students that you get started with the lesson, instead of laughing at Paisley and embarrassing her in the process," Nick says defensively.
Mr. Caravans's expression immediately took a turn from holding in a laugh to being angry. He narrowed his eyes at Nick but momentarily looks away and composed himself. Everyone in the class immediately starts conversing and whispering with their friends—probably about me—and I personally don't mind them whispering about me as long as there's noise resounding in the classroom, I'm good.
"Uh–right," he says nervously. "Okay so today we are going to be–"
"Paisley," I hear nick whisper quietly beside me, also managing to block out the rest of Mr. Caravans' sentence.
I ignore it, in hopes that he'll get the hint that I don't want to have a conversation in the midst of Mr. Caravans' lesson. Although he defended me from further embarrassment, I know for a fact that Caravans' tolerance is at a very low level and I definitely don't want to be the one who'll make him reach his breaking point.
"Paisley!" He whispers a little louder this time.
I whip my head towards the source of the annoying fucking whispers—Nick.
"What!" I spat out.
"Wanna skip second with me?" He asks sweetly.
I crease my brows and give him a look of disapproval. I shake my head quickly and turn my head towards the front of the class, helplessly trying to listen to Mr. Caravans' boring lesson.
I definitely wasn't going to skip with him, but then I thought to myself, 'I'm dying in two months, what's there to lose?'
I face Nick once more and before I know it, I was nodding my head in response to his random suggestion.
His face lit up and resembled a child on Christmas morning, after getting his/her dream gift from 'Santa'.
Okay the last part was irrelevant but still, I wanted to get my point across.
"You'll skip with me?"
I roll my eyes, feeling as if it's reached my brain. "Yes I'll skip, now shut up," I snarl at him and look away.
The class went by like a flash and to say that I was relieved was definitely an understatement. To be honest, I did not have a clue on what Mr. Caravans was teaching but quite frankly; I did not give a fuck. I don't know where this skipping thing will take me but I sure as hell hope that I won't end up in a ditch somewhere behind a dumpster, unconscious and half dead.
YOU ARE READING
Wasted Time
Teen Fiction"You're dying," he says, "You have at least 4 months." I know I'm supposed to be sad or cry but instead I say, "Oh cool." Paisley Archer is dying from cancer. She has four months to do all the things in life she hasn't done. But four months la...
