Shit Happens [REWRITING SOON]

5. I blame you, period.

'Sisters, we are everywhere, warriors, your country needs you.'

-Little Mix, Salute

Numéro cinq

"Fucking hell," I muttered, resting my head on the table. My History teacher was blabbering on about something or someone or somewhat or whatever called 'Aristotle'. Let me tell you, it was incredibly boring, as all History lessons tend to be.

"Sorry, what was that, Miss Meadows?" asked my teacher. Normally I don't backchat to adults, especially teachers, but when you're on your period and are suffering through a god-awful History lesson, you don't usually remember what you do or don't do. And I am no exception.

"I said 'fucking hell', sir."

"Jaycee Meadows, need I remind you that there is no swearing in this classroom, nor do I tolerate students interrupting my lesson!"

"No, you don't need to remind me."

"Well I certainly believe that I do. Write out 'I will not swear in Mr Lawson's class' fifty times! I will be checking at the end of the lesson!"

See, Mr Lawson won't actually check to see if I have written out 'I will not swear in Mr Lawson's class' fifty times as he is actually an incredibly rubbish and stupid teacher. Seriously, he tells everyone to do something, then something else ten seconds later, then something else another ten seconds later, then asks, "Have you finished everything?" It's like, "Hel-lo we're still doing the first fucking thing you told us to do!" An if that's not evidence enough, he's also an English teacher who thinks that 'short' has two syllables. Like, wow, sir.

Remember how Mr Lawson said before how he doesn't tolerate people interrupting his lesson? Well, I'm surprised his head didn't blow after this.

"Yew yew! 'Tis I, Patrick Devons, here to join this boring class of History!" The door slammed open, revealing an egotistic bastard, creating an interruptance during the class. Mr Lawson cleared his throat impatiently.

"Patrick. Please sit down. Now," he said.

"Where sir? Please don't make me sit next to that cocky son of a-"

"Language! What is with teenagers these days!" yelled Mr Lawson. His face was turning red and it was almost if I could see steam pouring from his ears. Then I realised that Patrick was referring to me with the 'cocky son of a bitch' thing. I think I turned a similar shade of red as the teacher. Real smooth.

Devons put his hands up as if in surrender. "Geez, I just don't wanna sit next to her."

Mr Lawson swallowed. Repetitively. As if he could swallow his anger. "You will," swallow, "sit next to," swallow, "Jaycee as," swallow, "there are no other," swallow, "spare seats," swallow, "in this class."

"But sir-!" I whined.

"Be quiet!" Mr Lawson snapped. "Just sit next to her, boy, or you will get an after school detention!"

I smirked at that.

"Same goes for you Jaycee! Be a nuisance one more time and you will accompany him." His voice had become icy cold.

Devons plonked down next to me.

"What's up?" he asked. I just flipped him the bird. Girls on periods are not girls in good moods.

He tried to speak to me again. "Psst."

I ignored him.

"Psst."

"What!?" I whisper-yelled. Thank god the teacher didn't hear me.

"Do you reckon he's on his period?"