The Poisoned Angel (Discontinued For Rewrite)

Chapter 1: Simon

"Listen, Simon, you know I love you right?" My best friend, Josh, coos. I roll my eyes, hitching my backpack back onto my shoulder and look over to him. By the look on his face, I can already tell he wants me to do him a favor.

I sigh, "What do you want?" This isn't the first time he's asked me to do something for him. He only does so every other week, whether it be for some girl or to give him my homework to copy. I stop in my tracks, stepping to the side so a student doesn't run into me, and soon walk back into place beside Josh. The halls are pretty crowded today, considering it's only Friday.

"Do you think you can keep out of our room tonight?" He asks, clasping his hands together. "There's this girl who I've had my eyes on for a very long time and I really need the room for myself." A groan escapes my mouth, my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. I hate it when he has to use our room for these kind of things.

"Why can't you just go to her room? You know my side is an absolute mess." Not only that, but I need to study for my English quiz on Monday, I can not afford to fail this one, otherwise I'll have Ms. Josiah on my ass.

"Okay, first, her roommate had dibs on their room, second, yes, your side is a mess. Mine is spotless." Josh smirks as if that solved the whole ordeal. We stop in front of my classroom, having at least five more minutes before the bell rang.

"Okay, well, I'll let you keep the room on one condition." He perks up, leaning forward in anticipation. I have been waiting to use this against Josh for months now. "You need to stop ordering anchovies on your pizza."

Josh instantly deflates, and I have to hold back a laugh. "Simon! You know I can't eat pizza without anchovies!" I shrug, taking my phone out of my back pocket to check the time. "Well, you've got three minutes to give me an answer."

Watching Josh struggle to choose between a girl and pizza toppings was pretty hilarious. He groans, throwing his head back, "Fine! I won't order anchovy pizza anymore!" I mentally high five myself in victory.

I wave over my shoulder at Josh, entering my classroom just before the bell rings. I waste no time getting my desk, tossing my backpack underneath it before sitting down.

"Good afternoon class." Mr. Rivera calls out. My classmates mumble out their good mornings, turning their attention to the front. "Now, I'm going to give you all one more assignment that's due next Thursday." The class groans. "I know I know, but think about it. I think you can all make it through one last assignment before the six week break."

I lean my head against the palm of my hand, feeling my eyelids droop. Just before I drift off, though, I feel a paper ball hit the back of my head. I grumble, turning around to an empty desk. I furrow my brows in confusion, who the hell could have thrown that paper wad?

"I want everyone to find some old art of theirs, and redraw it in an all new light. It can be a childhood drawing, or one from two years ago. This is an exercise all artists use to see just how far they've come."

Some of the students, including myself, perk up at the thought. It's been so long since I've looked at my old art, I wonder if I still have my old sketchbooks?

"Monday, I'd like you all to show me the drawing you will be recreating, and Thursday you will turn it in. Sound good?" Everyone nods their heads, a few 'yes sirs' are heard. "Good, now you can use the rest of the class to catch up on work for one of your other classes, or work on your own projects."

Everyone goes back to their own conversations, only a small handful of them actually pulling out their homework and working on them. I pull out my phone, unlocking it and beginning to scroll through Instagram.