I hear the moans and groans of my classmates as they slowly pass up their papers. I smile to myself, knowing they haven't finished their tests, unlike me. I usually finish mine first out of my class so I can take a nap for the rest of the period.
I wack the boy in front of me on the head with my paper as I usually do. I think we've established it as a regular practice, I hit him in the head to get his attention, then he reaches back and I hand him my paper. No eye contact, no words.
But this time, he decides to change it up, spinning around to face me.
"Jesus Christ," he says, "just hand me the goddamn paper. I'm so tired of your shit."
He yanks my paper out of my hand, leaving a cut on my right middle finger knuckle. He turns away from me and hands up our papers. I grit my teeth.
Why are paper cuts the most painful things in the world?
The boys spins back around, so I quickly try to cover the cut up.
"So you're the girl that never talks, right?" he asks.
"Even though I'm talking to you right now, yeah I guess I am."
"I'm trying to not be an asshole, so don't you be an ass to me."
There's an awkward silence between us. I know I'm not an easy person to talk to, so he must not have any other friends in this class.
"So why are your hands so bloody?" he asks.
I look at my hands and see little red splotches coming from between my fingers. I unclasp my hands to see a surprising amount of blood.
"Damn, paper cuts are so extra." he quietly says.
"You're telling me. Now I have to waste my lunch time going to the nurse." I complain.
The bell rings and students rush to get to their next classes. I start walking out too, until the boy from before stops me.
"You're going to the nurse to get a bandage right?"
"No, I'm going because I like the smell of hand sanitizer."
"Okay, whatever. I'll go with you. I have lunch so I have extra time to spare." he's awkward, but I guess that makes it the two of us.
The way up to the front office is like going up stream a raging river, but we somehow make it. When we get to the nurse's room she looks like she is ready to quit her job. I explain to her what happened, and she mumbles something under her breath before telling me to wash my hands and where to get my bandages, before continuing what I can only assume was the beginning of Fifty Shades of Grey. I quickly follow the nurse's directions and rush out of her room as fast as I could.
"What are you trying to hide by rushing out of her office?" he jokingly asks, jogging to catch up to me.
"I don't know what you mean." I say.
"I saw you looking at her monitor, waiting for those," he leans in close, "dirty scenes."
I backhand him on the face as hard as I can.
YOU ARE READING
Little Talks
Teen Fiction{ENDED; NOT FINISHED ❌} Alliah was never one to be popular. Actually, she never really had a lot of friends in general. Her grades were always high, but that didn't matter to her. All she wanted was a group of friends who she could talk to, but she...
