Chapter One - Monday
Alarm clocks are devil spawn.
I sat back in the stiff, plastic seat and ran my fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes and yawned, just as I felt another presence on my right. I rubbed my eyes, feeling the bags that gathered there this morning, and plucked out one of my earphones. I glanced towards the next row, taking in the black side swept hair, eyeliner and smile of the boy next to me. He leaned in closer and I tried to suppress yet another yawn. “You okay?”
My eyes widened, I didn’t really expect to be talking to people today, besides asking for directions of course. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY? I AM NOT ORGANISED FOR THIS SHIT!
I turned around before facing him. “Uh, just tired.” I nodded awkwardly, my thick British accent coating my words.
“I know, I’d like to meet whoever invented this whole school starts at 7:30 crap, and shove my alarm clock up his ass”
I chuckled and raised an eyebrow jokingly. “How do you know it’s a boy?” He shrugged.
“Really strong gut feeling, like, so strong I’m about to throw up.”
My laughter filled the classroom, earning glares from other students.
“Right” I said, rolling my eyes. He smiled at me and flicked his hair to the side.
“I’m Wentz. Pete Wentz”
“Campbell, Serenity Campbell” and I took his outstretched hand. “But call me by my full name and the only thing you’ll be talking to is my fist.” I smiled sweetly, batting my eyelashes, trying my best innocent look. It was his turn to laugh.
“So…?”
“It’s Tia.”
It was that exact moment when the teacher decided to stroll –no strut- into the classroom. Talk about bad timing. I shrugged and looked to the board.
“Right, I’m Mr. Jones, make sure you turn off all electronic devices and say here when your name is called,” he said in a cocky, bored voice. He wasn’t bad looking for a teacher and he shot winks at a couple of the girls, practically causing them to faint. Cliché right?
I was already dozing off, head lolling onto my outstretched palm, eyes half closed. “You” Jones called, pointing at me. My head crashed onto my desk, forming a small blue bruise on my temple.
“Eh?”
“Who are you?” he said, voice dripping with arrogance as he leaned over his list.
“Uh…” it took a while for me to process what he said in my sleep deprived brain. “Serenity Campbell…sir” I said unsurely.
“Oh” he replied, rolling his eyes “the new girl.”
“You know, I was just warming up to that title but then I realized I have a name and since I am oh so loyal to my original title I’d like to stick to that.” I shot back sarcastically. His eyes were enraged, shining with a new light. It’s obvious he doesn’t get talked back to very often. He opened his mouth but I then heard familiar lyrics being blasted out of Pete’s pocket.
DON’T WANNA BE AN AMERICAN IDIOT
DON’T WANT A NATION UNDER THE NEW MANIA
AND CAN YOU HEAR THE SOUND OF HYSTERIA?
THE SUBLIMINAL MIND F*** AMERICA
-©Greenday2004
