[s c h o o l of 2 0 0 5 series book 1]
❝Bite me!❞
❝I did. Thrice, remember?❞
♡♡♡♡♡
What do spray paint, playboy magazines, and quiz tests have in common?
Trust Natasha Glazer and Blaze Warner to know the answer to that question.
The boardi...
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I got out of the taxi with my duffel bag loosely hung over my shoulder. The taxi driver quickly took out my luggage, placing it on the pavement.
I didn't really have much to pack anyway, besides the three bags that I was carrying—one for my clothes, the other for my essentials, and the last one hanging on my back carrying important stuff.
A lean guy wearing grey trousers, maroon vest, and a dark coat paired with a matching navy blue tie, came running towards me as soon as the taxi took off.
That's the uniform? Great. Now I would have to wear old businessman clothes. Where the fuck did I get myself into?
He tried to introduce himself, but I cut him off by throwing my clothes bag in his face. "Here you go! And make sure not to damage the other bag. Precious cargo and all." I winked at him.
As a second thought, I took out a $5 bill and shoved it in his coat pocket, then headed off towards the big, fancy-looking wooden entrance door.
"I'm not a valet; I am the Prefect." The guy called out to me, sounding baffled.
"Good for you!" I threw back. Why he thought I would give a damn about his achievements was beyond me.
The door opened up to a huge ground with football nets placed on the left side. To me, the campus merely looked like a big mansion, though. I was looking for a church, which I am sure must compliment such a building.
I glanced to my right, and, sure enough, there was a church behind the huge-ass building, with a simple "St. Joseph High" sign written on it.
Kicking dirt, I head off in search of the headmaster's office. It had been ages since I had last seen my uncle, the last being when I was eight.
It was going to be "family reunion of the year", I imagine.
Just outside the office door, I dug out my red devil-horned hairband, especially bought for this very moment. Then I knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" a muffled male voice then asked.
"Jesus Christ," I said with a proud smile and opened the door.
He took one look at me and dropped the pen he was holding. What could I say? I did look devilishly handsome wearing this hairband.
"Should I applaud your theatrics?" he muttered and composed himself, flattening the creases on his long-sleeved shirt, getting back to his work.
I took a seat without waiting for his permission, hoisting up my legs on his desk near the tag saying "headmaster".
"And here I thought you might enjoy the humor, Father." I gave him an innocent smile, flinging the hairband carelessly across the room, knowing well that it would instantly place me on his naughty list. Judging by his wrinkled skin, it was obvious that all the fretting over running a prestigious school hadn't done wonders to his age.
