E i g h t

215 9 0
                                        

"I still think they're like an old married couple," Dylan shook his head, "The way you describe them to me, it's almost like they're one. They live and breathe the same air, and their banter and actions with one another, it's like something else completely, like love,"

"You think it's a good thing, that their friendship is this way,?" I asked, careful of my words I chose around him.

"I think it's a sweet thing to be honest wth you," he stared off out the window for a while before facing me again, "Now, about that other story,"

Fourth period math with Mr. Hopson could actually be a very close second hell on earth. I'm deadly serious and it's not because I don't understand the alien language most think he babbles on about for an hour. That I do understand.

Nope, I just find it endless and to be frank, fucking boring.

Oh and it's unbearable when the annoying kid behind you can only find entertainment in screwing up paper into balls, to throw at the back of your head.

Especially when that kid then in weeks to come, becomes the closest you've ever had to a best friend. Yeah Dylan, found it funny to pelt paper ammunition at my head.

"So he was torturing her before he'd even approached her at lunch?" Dylan grinned widely, finding their antics once again amusing to hear about. Still not knowing it was our story because I had to change the names I gave us.

"Yeah, he was I guess. I'm still not sure why, I should find out shouldn't I?" I laughed, moving back on the bed and stretching my legs out. I was sat on the opposite side to Dylan so I could see him properly.

"Yeah and you have to tell me why, I'm hooked on these stories of yours," I wagged his finger at me like a demanding teacher and I laughed, "Now continue with the story,"

"Yes sir,"

Ball after damn ball, he continued to throw them. I reckon he does it to piss me off because I'll put money on him actually really having something else to do.

Three months we've been back at school and without fucking fail he's done it every math lesson. I'm almost certain by now that he's after a reaction because he's -much like everyone else- never heard me speak and wants to hear me flip shit at him.

But I remain quiet for the sole the reason that I don't want to bring attention to myself so I bare the paper balls and sit through math, despite my boredom and dire want and simmering need, to rip the head of the kid behind me.

It should be illegal to have gym following an hour of math and a never ending endurance of paper balls, I mean are they trying to torture us or teach us? If it was an option I would sit it out just like the populars do but then I'd draw attention to myself.

That is NOT an option.

So just as I did in Math; I conform to the expectation of the majority, I do as I'm told and don't complain.

At least I didn't, until paper ball kid let go of his baseball bat after swinging and it flew straight into my face.

"Ouch," Dylan winced.

"Ouch indeed," I groaned, remembering the pain like it was yesterday.

"He so likes her,"

Seventy nine - Dylan O'Brien (completed)Where stories live. Discover now