promiscuous girl::MICHAEL JACKSON

p r o m i s c u o u s g i r l

Layla Rignshe's POV

"WELCOME seniors! It's your last year of high school and the immaturity you force us to deal with, but it's fine." I sat in the back of the hot auditorium as I watched all the senior teachers stand on stage, ready to introduce themselves.

Most of them I knew since most teachers teach two grade levels of there subject, but there were only a few I didn't know personally. One of them was male, and it was his style choices that drew me in, but I paid it no mind as I sat by myself, drowning out whatever the senior principal spoke of, daydreaming. It felt like it was taking forever, listening to the teachers ramble on and on, putting me in a bored trance.

The teachers all told what they taught and talked about their personality, but I only paid attention to one, just a little too late, missing his name.

"So I do teach 11th and 12th grade English, um." He laughed, looking to the principal for help. He giggled once more, looking down at the floor before continuing. "I am new here so please do excuse me, its quite nerve wracking standing in front of you guys. But there really isn't much to say so if you see my name on your schedule, expect to have fun." He waved, handing the mic back to the principal.

The principal cleared his throat, switching the mic to his left hand, eyes swiping over the crowd. "Well then, excited to see this class succeed, sorry to the first hour teachers, you'll get to meet these lovely kids tomorrow. Students do please go and check in to your first hour and then proceed to you second hour, you all know the drill continuing on." He announces.

I swing my backpack over my left shoulder as I stand up and shrug it on to my right, pulling my phone out of my back pocket to look at the schedule I took a photo of.

As I left the crowded and overheating room, I didn't bother looking at the name but the room number. 215... upstairs, go straight. I knew this schools blueprint better than I knew my own head.

I took the English course that was the college course but was taught on the high school campus so I didn't have to go back and forth. I walked into the empty class and took a set in the back, in front of the teachers desk. Everyone walked slow in this school so I was typically always first.

The projector said "Welcome To English!" I big bold yellow letters with typical pictures of classic literature. I rolled my eyes and pulled out my phone, putting on The Language of Limbo(go read my books) by Sevdaliza.

After reading my copy of Lolita for a few minutes, a man walked in. The same man who stood on the stage. I wasn't the only person in here by now, so he paid me no mind. I frantically went to my photo gallery to look at my schedule, reading his name as Jackson, Michael.

He looked way more interesting up close. His hair was curly, parts of it falling in front of his face while the rest was in a low ponytail. He had on a plain black button up shirt tucked into black jeans, black boots to match.

His outfit, no matter how simple, looked great on him. He looked different than the rest of the teachers that worked here. All of the faculty actually. He stood behind me, shuffling papers on his desk.

I kept reading on my phone, waiting for the last bell to ring. He passed out a paper, starting with me first and then stood at the front of the classroom. He looked over at us, looking way more serious than he did on the stage, causing groans from students, hoping he wasn't faking his attitude on the stage. Yet I continued to read as he listed off names, waiting to here mine.

"Layl- Lux? Rignshe." He said slowly. I put my phone in my back pocket after turning it off and put on my backpack. Raising my hand, I walked to the door.

"Where are you going?" He asked me.

"My next class, we only had to check in." I remind him.

He cleared his throat as more of the students who already did roll got up to leave. "I wasn't informed you could do that." He protested. I looked him up and down, dreadfully wishing I could stay here and talk to him, to give in and pick his brain. But I didn't give in to myself and stood my own ground. Shrugging, I pushed the door open and walked out.

The halls were slightly barren, kids popping out of doors one by one slowly to head to their second class. We all had the same hope of finding our friends in classes. While some walked around with their friends comparing schedules I had my headphones stuck in my ears, looking around me.

I knew I'd find my friends when the time comes, whether that was at lunch or during a class, but it didn't matter to me. I didn't need to have friends and could personally fend by myself throughout the stuck up, popularity contest filled school.

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