Unorthodox (BOOK 1)

Chapter 5

~Vesper~

"You're late."

"I am sorry for being late, miss."

"Again?"

"I had to drop something off to Sir Stephen."

"You could have done that in your own time; not mine."

"I understand miss. It won't happen again."

"Better not." Ms. Fletcher sighs, slipping her glasses higher-up on her face. "Hurry up and sit down."

I walk over to my seat in the back. Just as I am about to walk through the narrow isle, someone's foot knocks me off my feet.

"Whoops."

I look up to the voice with the foot that tripped me. None other than the Lance. His eyes sparkle mischievously. The class cracks up in laughter.

"Should be a little more careful, Dreads," he smirks, ripping an edge of my t-shirt, "By the way I like the new get-up. The jersey looks familiar though." This makes kids laugh more.

I look down at my clothes. They weren't mine. After I showered from the trash dipping episode, my only rescue was the thrifty, trusty Lost and Found. I know that they are not mine, but my clothes took vile to a whole new level. It was torn too from being caught on a screw.

It's quite amazing, how much clothes can be found in the pile. And how forgetful Newbourne students are. The pile has an excessive amount of books, phones, devices, lighters and odd ends. But the most; clothes. Designer clothing to clothing that makes Beggar Man Charlie look rich.

Mine was not too bad at least. I wore a pair of faded cargos, a simple, light blue T-shirt with a printed, silhouette, white feather and a grey bandana to tame my  dreadlocks. I snipped the t-shirt up a little, making a minor pattern at the sleeves. A little change can make a big difference.

Well that was what I thought until now.

"Vesper Dusk! I would like to continue the lesson you were late for!" Ms Fletcher gives me the cold eye.

I know what you are thinking; didn't she see anything that happened? Guess what; she did and she won't do a thing about it. She'll say, "It's a phase. They'll get through it." Everyone will agree. No-one will put themselves on the other side of the spectrum. 

But just like how an ant can survive in the wild; I do to.

I get off my knees and scramble to get my scattered papers even though some already have their footprints on them. When I'm done I walk over to my seat, carefully this time, and examine the seat. As usual their is gum on the chair. Luckily, I prepare myself for these situations. I grab a napkin from my pocket, clean it off and drop it in a small plastic bag I attached secretly to my bench.

Yes, I'm prepared for everything.

As Ms Fletcher drones on about the molecular orbital study in sulphur dioxide, I tear a page from one of my notebooks to doodle. I do this every time I'm bored.

Or when Ms Fletcher drones on about why her boyfriend doesn't give her flowers in the winter. 

We all appreciate her interesting love life, where her boyfriend always does something that makes her ditch the lesson on molecules for advice on best chocolates for your anniversary.

Note the sarcasm.

So as a few of the popular wannabees offer useless enlightenment for her delightful relationship, the rest of the class just fools around. Paper airplanes take to the air as kids have heated debates on who is the better wizard in Hogwarts.