The moment I entered English 4-A, I thought people would start wondering why do I look like a fish caught in an oil spill with my puffy eyes. I guess I was lucky to have an ignorant bunch as these guys. And then it hit me again, immature…
I was petrified for about 5 seconds until my best friend Claire called me from her seat. As usual she wears the uniform in the most fabulous way. Her brown locks shiny as always. Both her wrists have silver-gold bangles that clink every time she moves.
“Hey there, dear. How was summer?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why are you all puffy? Did you get soap in your eyes again?”
Again? When did I have soap in my eyes anyway?
“No it’s… It’s nothing. Don’t worry.” I managed a small smile.
“Look, I know you have something on your shoulder. Now tell me. Tell, or I’ll tickle you to death.”
“I’ll take tickle to death, thank you.”
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she is in her concerned face now. Knowing Claire all my life somehow involuntarily notice every bit of detail of her. And somehow made me memorize her every move… After all these years, to me, she is so predictable.
“We broke up over the summer that’s all.”
“WHAT!?” I knew she’d do that, but I’m too tired and hurt to explain. Lucky for me, the teacher entered the room. Everyone’s attention seemed to focus on him. And when I say everyone, I meant most of the girls.
To our surprise, the teacher was HOT, and when I say hot, I mean, every girl except me looks at him dreamily. I’m too upset to complement his looks.
“Good morning class.” Honestly, that is a common greeting, why do the girls have to squeal? “I’m Julian McKlean. You can call me Sir Julian. I graduated just last year so I hope you go easy on me.”
“Sir, what’s your favourite colour?” Monica asked.
“Well, that would be blue.”
“How about your hobby?” said Angela. And I have to admit, the girls look ridiculous with their pen and notebook, ready to copy as though these will get out in the final exams.
“Well, that is a good question. I like reading poetry so I would like to know you all better by writing a poem on what you are feeling right now. So go ahead, take out a pen and a piece of paper, and then write away!”
I could hear the simultaneous ‘Aw mans’ of my male classmates. I’m so not in the mood for this. But I guess I have no choice.
YOU ARE READING
Three is a Crowd
Teen FictionHave you ever felt so weak, knowing that the person you love loves someone else? Allie is going through the same dilemma. When her man fell out of love for her and left her. She stayed strong. And much to Luke's amazement, he didn't realize that Al...
