Completely Ridiculous

Chapter II

"221, 222, ah! 233!" I muttered joyfully to myself, finally finding the room my first period study hall was in. This school is constantly moving the rooms around, I swear. Yeah, that's what is was.

"Do you plan on coming in, or would you rather stare at the wall all day?" Oh no. Not him again. Not that sarcastic, egotistical, cocky... Bastard! Ugh, he just makes me so mad and I've only just met him a total of maybe six minutes ago!

"Well I would rather look at the wall than at you." I replied, adding in a sickly sweet smile for good measure.

"Just take a seat." He chuckled, shaking his head. Who was he to tell me what to do? I don't even know his name! And plus, the teacher, Mr. Scott, I concluded, glancing the schedule in my hand that was currently being crumpled, wasn't even here yet.

"No." I replied, shrugging. My feet remained planted to the cold tiled floor, even as he began to walk towards me, smirking slyly. Why was nobody doing anything? Where the fuck was the teacher?! Looking into the classroom, I saw it was completely empty, aside from him and myself. But I was just outside the threshold.

"Fine. Detention." He smiled, pushing his hands into his pants pockets proudly.

"Excuse me?" I looked at him. Then it all clicked. The clothes, the fact that he looked to be about twenty four or twenty five, and of course, the fact that I had never seen him before. He was Mr. Scott. And he, was a dick.

I stepped into the room, completely against my will of course. Well, my body carried me, but my mind was tell my body that it was an idiot.

"Ah, welcome Miss..." He looked at the attendance sheet, "Snow. Nice of you to finally join us." He placed the sheet back onto the big desk in the corner of the room, sauntering towards the desk that I had chosen, far away from him.

"Why is there no one else here?" I asked, looking around.

"It's just us." He started, shrugging. "This isn't even really a class, they just needed somewhere to put you for forty eight minutes and I was the only available teacher who didn't have a class this period." He said, his cocky exterior slipping away.

"So I would feel lucky if I were you." He winked. And there it was again. I rolled my eyes, and shifted in my desk to face the other way, away from him, really.

It was silent for a few minutes, and I thought that maybe he had silently spontaneously combusted. If only I could be that lucky. I mean, there was no doubt he was attractive, but he was arrogant. He knew he was hot, and he flaunted it. While most girls would kill to be in my position, I hated it. Completely, and utterly, hated it.

"So, what had you so shaken up this morning?" He asked, his deep voice breaking me from my thoughts. Turning to look at him, I saw he was a lot closer than I thought. He was sitting on top of the desk in front of me, as teachers often do.

"Nothing." I said, sounding much more cold than I had intended.

"Bull." He said simply, shrugging. He does that a lot...

"Yes, yes I do. And you do that a lot you know. You should really work on keeping your thoughts inside of your pretty little head." He stated, tapping the end of his pencil on the tip of my nose. I scrunched my nose, eliciting a satiny, yet slightly gruff chuckle from the man. Glaring at him, I say back in my desk, folding my arms.

"Aw, is the baby angry?" He asked in an obnoxious baby voice. I'm seventeen not three.

"I'm not a baby, jerk-off." I muttered.

"To me, you are. What are you, fourteen, fifteen tops?" He asked, looking at me incredulously.

"Seventeen, actually. And what are you, because based on your personality, which is dry and just all around awful, I would say four, five tops." I spoke confidently, glaring when I was finished.

"Actually, I'm twenty-six. Thanks for asking though, sweet cheeks." Oh this guy was getting on my last nerve. And this time, my thought had indeed stayed in my head. Although he will be wrong in my book any other time, he was right about my needing to control my thought-to-word process.

"I don't care how old you are. You're still a child." I rolled my eyes. "And don't call me that." I looked down at my lap.

"Seriously sweet cheeks, who hurt you this morning?" He asked, changing the subject and returning to the kind and, dare I even say it, charming person he could be if he really wanted to.

"I told you, nothing happened. Nobody hurt me." I lied, hoping he couldn't see through it. But of course, I am alas a terrible liar.

"That's a lie." He stated.

"I know." I mumbled, just wanting this conversation to end. I wanted him to realize that I don't like him, and that I didn't plan on telling him anything. He was a teacher. And a teacher I had never met even.

"What was it, petty cat fight? Your 'best friend' stole your lipgloss?" He started, adding air quotes around the words 'best friend.' "Or is it just your time of the month?"

"SHUT UP!" I yelled. I was done with him. Why was he doing this to me. How was he doing this to me. He must have been crossing some boundary between students and teachers. This was my personal life and he was making a mockery of it.

"Tsk, tsk. Miss Snow. Looks like you just earned yourself another detention. And on the first day of school. It's a shame really, but hey, you must just love spending time with me." I could practically hear the smirk floating within his words.

I don't know why, but I started to cry. I felt the hot, salty liquid falling in small rivers down my cheeks. It wasn't a shoulder jerking cry, just a silent 'leave me alone' cry. He must have noticed however, because the next thing I know, he's jumped down from his perch on the desk and crouched before me.

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't cry. I didn't mean to upset you." He said, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. I pulled my head away.

"Don't touch me." I whispered. I heard him let out a defeated sigh, running his long fingers through his short, brown hair.

"Listen, I'm sorry, Emily. Can we please just start over. It's my first day and I don't know how to do this shit. I never wanted to be a teacher, but it's what pays the bills. I'm terrible at talking to people and I know I probably came off as an arrogant jerk."

"You forgot cocky, conceited, obnoxious...." I cut him off, giggling slightly.

"Point taken," he admitted, laughing a little. "But the point is, actually I don't know what the point is... But we're here together for forty eight minutes a day, everyday, for one hundred and eighty days, we should at least try to get along." He finished.

"Does that mean my detentions are null and void?" I smirked?

"Oh no, you still earned those." He smiled. I frowned, then laughed a little.

"Okay, so Mr. Scott, what made you want to work in this hellhole?" I asked, as he stood up and moved back over to his desk in the corner of the room, sitting down.

He chuckled a bit and looked down at the papers in front of him. "Well Emily... I've never actually been interested in teaching. Hell, I'm school I was the 'bad boy'" he used his fingers to quote those two words.

I couldn't help the giggles, and soon hysterics that exited my body at him speaking those words.

"What? What's so funny?" He contorted his smirk into a face of confusion.

"You just referred to yourself as a bad boy... How pathetic." I smiled and rolled my eyes.

"Hey! I'll have you know that I was the 'it guy' when I was in high school." He pouted, and I hate to say it, but it was actually kind of adorable.

"Okay, Mr. Scott... I believe you." I winked and pulled out my phone and headphones. Placing them into my ears I turned on some Arctic Monkeys and drifted off to my happy place, blocking out the protests of Mr. Scott.