Fool's Gold

2 » Repetition

August 30th, 2017

He walked in with an unbelievable amount of disgusting swagger. His eyes swept across the room, and with a small smirk, it was clear that the king had found his new throne, the empty seat next to Jayden.

With his subjects trailing behind him in a mindless manner, Grant and Jayden started up a hushed conversation. At first Anna was intrigued by their friendship, and felt good about the opportunity that had laid itself out flat in front of her, but then she realized she was blatantly staring at the handsome boy two seats over, and it wasn't because of her assignment.

Anna berated herself for finding him attractive; while confidence was fine, an ego too big to fit through the door was not. She caught Mr. Whitman looking at the boy with a downturned lip, clearly unhappy that a troublemaker had made its way into his hippie classroom.

Which it was – this was by far the hippiest classroom Anna had ever had ever seen. With shrines to the Beatles in the form of posters and bobble-heads scattered across the classroom, Guns N' Roses paraphernalia in a disarray at the front of the class, and Mr. Whitman himself, wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt with their signature blood-red tongue hanging happily out of luscious lips, it was a confusing mix of historical music paired with one lone poster of physics on harmonic motion.

Interesting man, if nothing else.

After the commotion had settled down, and everyone started realizing that the teacher was waiting for the class to be quiet, it became as quiet as the grave. Not even Grant dared disturb the growing, tense silence.

Mr. Whitman cleared his throat and spoke, "What is your name young man?" his gaze trained on Grant.

Grant's lips twitched into a nasty smile, "Grant, Grant Blackwell sir."

Mr. Whitman pursed his lips and said nothing until he faced the rest of the classroom. Plastering a fake smile on his lips, he introduced himself and started on their first lesson of the year – significant figures.

Midway through class, a girl flew in to the room, her red eyeshadow prominent against the creamy texture of her skin, and her short hair a rumpled mess on her petite frame.

Mr. Whitman just looked at the girl, waiting for a some sort of explanation to tumble out of her cherry red lips. Nothing came, except for harsh pants, and a small, wrinkled note held in her outstretched hand. The teacher accepted the note, looked at it, and aimed it into the trash can near his desk. The class erupted into cheers as they saw it make it in, even Grant adding in his two cents with the word "baller" rolling off his bow shaped lips with an appreciative smile.

As the ruckus subsided, the girl wove through the seats to sit behind Anna, and a deep voice called out, "Takei – don't be late again."

The girl nodded, and smacked her bubblegum with a smile brightening her face.

Mr. Whitman continued class without interruption with everyone hastily scribbling the notes written on the board into their brand-new notebooks.

After a while, the shrill cry of the bell broke the monotonous lull of pencils against paper, and they packed their bags to head to their next class. Grant and Jayden shared a man-hug, and the brunette departed, leaving Anna with her guide, Jayden.

As they exited the classroom, Anna enquired, "How do you stand him?"

Jayden threw her a quizzical look, "You know," she continued, "Grant?"

He gave a hearty laugh, and said, "I think you mean how does he stand me," while shining a smile that looked like a beam of light against his dark skin.