Diary, Diary// f.w.

Pencil...

The loud sound of the bell blared through the entire school, causing me to cover my ears. I hate the sound of the damn bell. But at the same time, it's my best friend. Sitting in one seat for 45 minutes, unable to get up and stretch...This clearly makes the day impossible for me.  

My classmates stood up immediately, as Mr. S released a muffled, yet audible grunt. I'd be annoyed too, if I were being interrupted by a bell and ignored. I can usually relate with having the urge to just leave class and eat lunch. However, I wasn't excited for eating cafeteria food. Instead, I leave campus. I depend on any local fast food place to ease my hunger. The staff think we're over-privileged, that we should be on school grounds at all times. Maybe they've forgotten how tiresome these seven crappy hours of our lives could become. 

The only things I had out on my desk were my pencil, eraser and diary.

 Ah, yes. My compact story teller I carry with me 25/8. Because I'd rather doodle in my notebook, than pay attention to my teacher.

 Besides, I've already finished reading the amazing literary novel that is, "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. In fact, I read it five years ago.

 I start rummaging through my bag. I needed to find my pencil pouch to put my utensils away. "Boo!""-Ah shit." My pencil had rolled from the desk and onto the floor. I look up to see my best friend's familiar face. Jack Dylan Grazer. "Language, Molly." Mr. S warned with a stern voice, peering at me from his desk. He was tilting his eyeglasses down slightly, a gesture most teachers use to intimidate the students as if we were children. 

I sighed and looked to the only adult in the room. "Oopsie." I say nonchalantly. You could practically hear me rolling my eyes. I then glare at the annoying child in front of me. "Fucker." I muttered louder than I originally intended. He let out a hearty laugh, placing his hand over his chest as though he were offended. "Molly." Mr. S, sounding very mad, stands from his desk and takes his glasses off. "Yeah, yeah. I'm on my way out. You won't have to deal with my bitch ass any longer. Have a good day, Sir." I say gathering my things. "Not so fast. I have had enough with this unacceptable language." He says. I can see him jotting something down with pen on a pink slip. Is he being serious? He slowly, but surely made his way over to my seat, where I clutched my belonging and stuffed them into my bag. Ugh. "This is for you." Mr. S offers me the pink slip, and I don't accept it. Annoyed, he places the slip before me on the hard, wood surface and sighs. I was trying with every fiber of my being not to laugh, which makes Jack giggle. "Mr. Grazer," "Yes Sir?" His face was a vibrant rose. "What's so funny?" "-nothing." Jack's voice cracks, making a high- pitched squeal- type of noise. He just squints his eyes at the two of us and proceeds to walk back to his desk. 

We continue to laugh, while I crumpled the ugly pink slip and dropped it into my bag. "Molly wait a minute-" Mr. S had began walking towards me and Jack as we began approaching the door.  A tall boy rushed in front of Mr. S before he could get to me. "You uh- you dropped your p-pencil..." That's strange... I could've sworn I already picked my pencil up and put it away... I turn around to see a big pair of cold, chocolaty brown eyes staring into mine. I bit down on my bottom lip gently, in an attempt to prevent myself from gasping. I've never seen him before.  "Oh...thanks." I smiled, trying to be a decent person. However he didn't return a smile. Instead, he just stared at me with a blank face.  He placed the pencil in my hand, and gave Jack a knowing look, before quickly brushing passed me. Jack and I finally leave the classroom and walk through the crowded hall. "What's his problem?" I nudge Jack. Did I do something wrong?  "I have no idea, but that had to be the most awkward short conversation I've heard today. And there have been many." 

....

We sat at our usual booth in the diner, the smell of diabetes filled my nostrils, as the waitress placed the food in front of us. Today, I only bought a chocolate milk shake and some French fries. Jack, being the chubby boi he is, ordered three burgers, two donuts, a pizza slice, and some salad. "What the fuck kind of a combination is that?" He inhales his soda, as he laughed. He coughed and continued to laugh as I went on to complain about how weird he gets when he's hungry. "It's Carlo's, okay? This is some good shit right here!" Jack raises his hands up in defense. "Alright." 

"Mr. S is such an annoying old fart." I giggle. Jack's face dropped. "About that..."
I play with my hair and hum for him to continue. I've been meaning to tell you something." Seriousness dripped from his voice. 

"Spill it!" 

"Mr. S has sorta kind of been weird lately."

"Jack, when hasn't he been weird? He's given me red flags since the first day of Freshman year when we'd pass by his classroom in the halls. His porn-stache gives me the heebie-jeebies."

"Yeah, but. I mean he's been weirder lately."

"You're overreacting."

"Molly, I think he-"

"Would you like a refill on that soda, Jack?" Clarissa smiled brightly. Carlo's family is amazing. They all work here at the diner, and Clarissa is such a sweetheart.

"Yeah, thanks Claire." She took the cup and headed to the kitchen.

I reached over with a plastic fork and stole some of his salad.  

"Okay, steal my food why don't you?!" I rolled my eyes and continued to eat his food. "Get your own!!!" He pouted his bottom lip and crossed his arms over his chest. "It doesn't taste as good if it's mine and not yours." I say purposely teasing him. "Whatever have it your way." 

I ended up eating all of his salad. But he ate my fries. Not to mention the two donuts. And the three burgers.

...

The gravel crunched under my feet as I made my way home from school. The cool air was refreshing. The wind shifted direction, causing loose strands of baby hair to tickle my face. 

Click, click.

What the fuck was that? I turn and look around to see if somebody was nearby, but all I see is an empty street.

I continue walking as I hear the noise again.

Click, click.

My heart starts to race, my paranoia growing, so I start walking faster. I can hear footsteps from behind me, but I'm to scared to turn around. As soon as I reach the end of the street, I run as fast as I can until my house comes into view. 

Someone was definitely following me.