FANFICTION

Chapter 12: You Spin Me Right Around

"Alright you obnoxious farts," Mr Stacey begins.

He is holding a stack of papers, which I assume are our Jane Eyer tests.

The word tenacity still haunts my dreams every time I think about that dreadful test.

Mr Stacey begins to make his rounds, handing back each student their tests.

My palms begin to sweat in anticipation. 'Great. Now the only teacher who actually doesn't hate me will think I'm insane. On top of that he's friends with my dad; shit if he tells my dad about -"

My thoughts were cut off by the appearance of the 100% in red ink.

"Well done Miss Charm. Someone actually studied for this." He gave me a knowing smirk before adding, "After the bell, stay and talk with me for a bit."

Just when I thought I might have gotten a way with it.

If it weren't for you meddling teachers.

Mr Stacey continued his distributions and as he finished, the bell rang.

"Remember, your next creative writing project is due before Christmas Break. Get started on it now before it's too late."

I head over to Mr Stacey's desk. His long blond hair and blond beard were somewhat comforting, reminding me I was in English and this was a safe space.

That is until his blue eyes locked onto mine, with one of his eyebrows raised.

"Miss Charm," he began scooting in his chair towards his desk. "What do you want to do when you are older?"

Wait. What?

"Umm... I guess being a writer?" I reply.

"Was that a question or a statement?"

"Sorry; statement." I shake my head, causing strands of my hair to fall out of the messy bun I had created this morning.

"Well then, why haven't I read any of your work yet?" He smirked at me. "Zoey, I'm a big fan of yours, you know that right?"

"Yes." I simply stated.

"I would be more than happy to read something of yours and give you constructive criticism to aid you for your writing in the future!" He reassured me with a gleam in his eyes.

"I know... it's just my writing as of right now is not something I would like to share at the moment." I began to pull on the hem of my Loki shirt nervously.

He nodded his head and sighed. "Easy fix," he said. "Write something that can be read."

And with that, he shooed me away.

I walked out of the class a bit shocked.

'That was not the conversation I was expecting." I thought to myself.

As I began to walk down the halls, the musky stench of football hit me like a ton of bricks.

The red and black varsity jackets were visible, worn by the muscular knuckleheads of our school. As they quickly approached my weak frame, I opened up my locker, trying to hide behind the door.

I began to put away my books and grab my jacket, suddenly I felt as if someone were behind me. I quickly spin around to discover Jacob standing behind me. He begins to wave goodbye to a couple of his teammates before returning his gaze back to me.

"Hi," he smirks, leaning against my locker door. But the locker door was flimsy so it swung open more, causing him to fall a bit.

I try to stifle a laugh but fail epically at doing so. "Hey."