Touched

Who am I? You probably already forgot.

"UNNNNNGGGG"" I cried out, my head leaning against the tall , blue frame of my locker.  I instantly regretted it, after I got a couple looks thrown at me.

"I saw that, you know." said Raisha, half snickering.

I sighed sadly. (Isn't that, like the #1 reason why people sigh??)

I strongly dislike high school.

(Aka a polite version of saying " I fucking hate high school)

I hate how they portray it in books and movies. Like there has to be women labelled as "sluts", a group of people known as the "popular's" , clique that bond over their love of books and video games are labelled with a bright red pen as "nerds". The school "bad boy", the "druggies." The list keeps going on and on!

The truth is, high school is, well, high school.  Everyone sort of talks to everyone, some people just hang out more often. Sure, there may be people considered "popular" but they don't sit at a certain table at lunch, surrounded my police tape that says "Do not enter".  Everyone minds their own business.

Sort of.

Okay, okay, the gossip may fly around a bit. But it's somewhat close to the truth.

Right?

"Fuck off R" I said angrily.

"Woah babe, what's gotten your knickers in a twist?" Rashia asked playfully.

I give her the "look" and she nods thoughtfully.

"Ahhh yes, school! I should have known" she murmured under her breath.

I gave her a light push as we walked to our next classes (THE HORRORRR!!)

I've known Raisha since I was 8. She's a year younger than than me, so whoop-dee-do no classes together.

"Ugh. Mr. Simmons makes me want to barf!" I say sadly, trudging my toes on the floor, earning a few weird stares from people.

"Babe, remember Ms. Miller? That hitler documentary? Damn, that lady was obsessed with Hitler. That documentary made me fall asleep! 3 damn hours, holy shit!" She exclaimed.

Ms. Miller was the oldest teacher in the school. She was famous for her obsession with Hitler. According to Raisha, she's fallen asleep in her own class, is completely oblivious to people walking out, and has 2 gold teeth. (Don't ask me how she knows the last one)

We laugh loudly (earning more stares) , and bid each other a sad goodbye. I sigh, before headed to my next class, most dreaded class,math.

I'm in a class with absolutely no fries (friends). I'm antisocial, and people tend to leave me alone (thankfully).

As I sit down in my usual seat, the very back. As I take out my very colourful notebook, Ms. Dhesi, makes an announcement.

"Class, I'd like you to welcome the newest member of our school! Would you like to like to introduce yourself, Mr. Red?"

I have to stifle a gasp, but I hear several people gasp shamelessly.

The first thing I notice are his eyes. They're a piercing, wonderful blue. The blue you get from the ocean, when the sun sets. He gave Dumbledore fierce competition. His hair was jet black, from what I could see under his grey toque. Tattoos were spilling out of his shirt, extending into his neck. Under his Navy blue jacket, I suspected there was more. But what probably made people gasp, was the long, jagged scar that started from the middle of his forehead, pulled it's way through his left eye, and danced to his pierced ears.

"Not really, no." He said in alluringly, deep and rather rude way.

I snapped out of my daze, and frowned.
Who did this dick think he was? I don't like it when students disrespect teachers, they work hard you know? Especially Ms. Dhesi, who was one of my favourite teachers. (I still hate math though)