The Weeked of our Life (a Green Day fanfiction)

Chapter One

'Three and a half hours,' I think. 'Three and a half hours until I'm free for six whole weeks!' I arrive in form, at 08:25am, and my form tutor is sat in his usual place at his desk. I'm the first person in her year, year nine, to arrive in form. But my friend, Alex, won't be too long, he's always only a few minutes later that me.

Jess has her ear phones in, I get my iPod out to change the song from one of my little sisters disney songs, which came on by accident, to some Green Day.

"Put that phone away, Jess, or I'll have to take it off you. We wouldn't want that to happen on the last day, wouldn't we?" Mr Jameson says, looking over the top of computer.

"Sorry Sir," I say as I reluctantly take out my earphones and put my iPod in the pocket of my blazer.

"DON'T WANNA BE AN AMERICAN IDIOT!!!! NANANANANANANANANA!!!! DON'T WANT A NATION CONTROLLED BY THE MEDIA!!!!!" Alex sings/shouts as he comes dancing into our form room.

"How many times can I tell you, Alexander? You've not to come into a classroom shouting horrific lines to horrific music!" The ageing man says, this happens nearly every morning.

"And how many times do I have to tell you, Alex?" I say, imitating Mr Jameson, "the lyrics are 'Don't want a nation under the new media,' not 'Don't want a nation controlled by the media'! Get it right!" I say, as I fake punch him in the arm. Alex punches me back I the arm, so I grab a pencil, which is on the desk next to me.

"Now, now..." Mr Jameson says, not really bothered what we're doing, it's just his job.

"You're late!" Mr Jameson says to Nat.

"Sorry Sir! But I was... Talking to a teacher...?" Nat says. She's never really been the sharpest tool in the box, and she still isn't.

"Natalie Wayne, I know for a fact you weren't talking to a teacher. I can bet my hat that you were talking to your friends. Am I right?"

"But Sir, you're not wearing a hat..." Nat says. Any normal person would think she was trying to be smart, however she's really that dumb...

"Make sure you're not late again, Natalie," Mr Jameson says, not feeling up to explaining the meaning of the phrase.