Late For French - (Fransykes)

Chapter 3

Oliver's POV

"Oliver!" my mum yells the very second I walk through the door.

I groan knowing that I'm going to be lectured for being a useless good for nothing. There's not a day that goes by that she isn't shouting at me or criticizing me or making me feel like she wished I wasn't her son.

"Ugh, what?" I yell.

"Kitchen now!" I roll my eyes, she didn't sound happy.

I huff loudly and drop my backpack by the door and take off my shoes before walking into the kitchen to see what she wanted.

She had her back to me stirring a wooden spoon in a cake bowl preparing to bake whatever knows what. She annoyingly did this all the time. She's obsessed with baking things especially giving them out to all the neighbours and basically showing off her amazing cooking skills and pretending to be this lovely sweet lady when she was literally the devil.

"Yes mother, what do you want?"

She didn't bat an eyelid at my poor attitude, she was used to it.

"I've just gotten off the phone with your school an- what happened to your uniform?!" she questions with wide eyes when she turns around and sees the white dust which had settle into my black blazer.

"Well you have my lovely new French teacher to thank for that." I say sarcastically.

"Seriously Oliver, your first day back and your uniform is already filfy!" she says putting down the cake bowl and patting down my blazer but I quickly swat her hand away.

I hated when she fussed, even more when she tried to overly mother me and tried to touch me. We didn't exactly have a mother and son relationship, we were complete opposites and most of the time avoided each other.

"It's not my fault, the stupid teacher forced me to clean the black board." I moaned shrugging out of my blazer and handing it to her.

She cared more about my dirty uniform than how I was.

"Oh that explains the phone call. Your French teacher called and he wasn't happy with your behaviour today."

"Oh yeah, what did he have to say?" I ask curiously.

"He said you swore at him more than once."

I rolled my eyes, what a bastard I can't believe he snitched on me. I wasn't going to let him get away with that next lesson.

"Oliver how many times do I have to tell you to tone down that vulgar mouth of yours? Seriously, I have no idea why you need to use such language. Respect your elder's younger man. " she says pointing her finger at me which irritated me more.

"He was irritating me so I told him where to go. Besides, I said it in French so I shouldn't be getting in trouble really." I smirked being a cocky know it all I knew I was.

"Doesn't matter what language you spoke in, you shouldn't be swearing at your teachers!" she says in her fake disapproval tone.

I wondered what she'd have to say if I told her how inappropriate my French teacher has been towards me so far. His snide comments and inappropriate glances and not to mention the sneaky touches here and there after classes.