Falling.
Falling.
Falling.
Splat.
Repeat.
That is high school- no- life. But so far, for me, it's only just high school.
"Bailey. The answer, please." Mr. Thomas snaps his fingers and walks over to my desk. It's times like this that I'm thankful for my other world. The world where I am queen and everything is perfect. It makes the fall worth it.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Thomas. I wasn't paying attention," I say, trying out an apologetic smile.
"Please give me the formula for the Pythagorean Theorem, Bailey."
Oh shit. My smile grows painfully as my eyes flit across the room, looking for a clue to the answer. I find nothing and resort to my memory. Again; nothing.
"I'm sorry. I told you I want paying attention."
Mr. Thomas's eyes narrow and then he walks away from my desk, stopping o my a few feet away. "Mr. Carrillo, please tell Miss Venice what the Pythagorean Theorem is."
I glare at Mr. Thomas and flip off his back.
Asshole.
Of course he'd choose the smart kid to make up for the misfit.
Once again: asshole.
-0-o-0-
Most of the time I sit alone at lunch and visit my world. It's not that I wAnt to be alone, though. I want to have friends that I can hang out with during lunch. But people don't really like hanging out with the freak that has to visit a therapist instead of having an electives or who has to take meds multiple times a day.
"Hey."
Another human.
I think I might just faint.
Looking up, I'm greeted by the sight of bright green eyes and a mop of messy chocolate hair. Ugh. "Mr." Isaac Carrillo. Smart guy extrodinare.
"Can I help you?"
"Oh, well, I was wondering... Because you had a hard time in math. I can help you."
"Carrillo?"
"Yeah?"
"Piss off," I growl.
And ohmygod, his face is priceless. His eyes pop out of his skull and his jaw drops, revealing brought green braces. I can't help it, I laugh.
He smiles.
"What," I snap. Be doesn't have a right to make fun of me. He's barely above me in the social pyramid. I get that I can't laugh without snorting, but it's still terrible that a geek would make fun of me.
"I didn't know you could laugh. I thought you had a permanent scowl," he says. Then, he does something I doubt anybody in the history of being even slightly coll has ever done.
Isaac Carrillo sets his tray down on my table and flood down on to the bench.
Right beside me.
"So, why do you alerts sit here all alone?"
Is this kid suicidal? Sitting with me and talking to me? With his mouth! I frown and to ignore this idiot. He may have the highest grades, but he lacks in common knowledge.
"Bailey?"
"Yes?"
"Did you hear me?" Isaac scoots closer to the table and picks yup his spork and stabs his "chicken".
" I chose to ignore you."
"That's not nice," his lips curl down at the sides and he does a piece of mauled chicken into his mouth. He chews and swallows, then returns to brutally attacking his food.
"I'm not a nice person," I say. I pick up one of his fries and twirl it in between my fingers. Part of the fry breaks and calls into the table. I drop the other half, sighing.
"The food is shit, but my mom will notice of I don't eat." Isaac smiles and gives up on his patty, popping a French fry into his mouth.
"Did you just cuss? But won't mommy know?"
"No. I can cuss," Isaac stammers. "Everyone cusses."
I roll my eyes and steal another fry. This one doesn't break and I seem it worthy of my digestion. My mouth closes around the fry and the salty goodness of the fried potato gives me a foodgasm. I hum in delight.
"But everybody cusses. Mike doesn't cuss." I close my eyes and enjoy the rest of my fry.
"Who's Mike?"
"Huh?" I swallow the food and look up at Isaac. Ugh. He's so tan.
"You said that Mike doesn't cuss."
I grown inwardly and fall onto the table. Mike is my "dad" who I just met. He got out of jail a month ago for a charge of manslaughter.
"No, I didn't."
"Yeah, you did."
"No."
"You can't just say "no" because I'm right--"
"Leave it alone," I nearly shout.
Isaac holds up his hands in surrender and repeats the words "I'm sorry" over and over again. I growl and turn away from him to visit my world.
When the bell rings, I stand up and head to my next class, ignoring Isaac and hoping to never have to talk to him again.
