Beware of the B

Chapter Three

One more period of the day. I only have to endure one and a half more hours and then I would be homebound and school free. An entire weekend without having to deal with any of these people. I love the sound of that.

I walked into my Literature class feeling a bit optimistic because I wouldn't have to be here long. I didn't even mind this being my last class because even though I was new here, I could tell that I'd like this class. The teacher, Mrs. Wane, seemed to be just as sarcastic as I was and actually made the class enjoyable. Also, literature was my best and favorite subject. So, having this as my last class was a win win.

I sat in my desk and watched as the students started to file in after the bell had rung. Ken walked in just before the bell rung. I just so happened to be looking at the door at that moment and he just so happen to meet my eyes and send me a small smile. I obviously wouldn't be me if I returned it, so I didn't. I just focused my attention to where the teacher now stood.

"Okay, so today I want to get down to business immediately," Mrs. Wane started, "At the beginning of the school year I mentioned a project where you'd be grouped with one other individual and you'd have until the end of this semester to get to know this person and then you'll have to present original poems that you have composed about each other. Each person has a choice of what they'd like to do to present a detailed representation of who this person truly is. This assignment will count as your final which is twenty percent of your grade. And don't think you can get away with doing this last minute, over the span of the two months, you'll have multiple worksheets with activities and questions that will allow you to get to know your partner better. These will also count towards your grade. You will also have to meet up outside of school to do most of the work." she paused, "Is there any questions or concerns?"

Multiple students raised their hands and she added, "No, you cannot choose your own partner. That would ruin the objective of the assignment. I have already placed you in your groups." All of the previous students groaned and put their hands down.

I huffed and slid down in my seat. Not because I couldn't pick my own partner, I didn't even know anyone here, except for Jace and I barely even knew him, but because I didn't want to do this damn project. The last thing I wanted was for someone to get all in my business. Why did we even need to get to know each other? Couldn't we just write a poem about our favorite food or some shit? This assignment honestly did not correlate with the description of this class. This was beginning to drop a few places on my favorite classes scale.

"When I call your names, one of you can come get two worksheets and move to your partner," this earned some more groans, "Come on, people. This is easy. Plus, it could help your grades. Trust me, some of you should be thanking me."

She began calling off names and everyone started shuffling around. She was almost at the end of her list. Only Jace aka Ken, a nerdy looking boy, who somehow still looked hot, a cheerleader, and I was left. Oh, damn it. I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers hoping that I got the nerdy kid.

'Please, please, please, not him,' I chanted over and over again in my head, 'Anybody but him.'

"Sariah Queens and," she paused for a second. I held my breath waiting for the name of who'd be my partner. I felt as if I was on a gameshow waiting to see if I got the million dollars or not. It was that intense. "and Jace Jones."

Dammit, dammit, dammit. Why doesn't my damn wishes ever work! I must be cursed or some shit. I blame this unluckiness on my ancestors.

To make matters worse, everyone turned and looked at me. Most of the girls looked envious, the cheerleader scowled at me. What? It's not even my fault. Blame the teacher, my ancestors, and the universe. They all seem to hate me right now.

I was stuck in my trance of blaming everyone for my misfortunes when I felt somebody sit next to me. I knew exactly who it was and didn't make an effort to acknowledge him. Maybe if I ignored him, he'd leave. But once again, I was wrong.

"Hey, Sariah," I could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at his face, "Guess, we're partners." I continued to ignore him and look forward. 'Why me,' I thought.

He sighed. "Come on, if we're going to get a good grade on this, you're going to have to communicate with me." He was right, but I was too stubborn to admit that.

I picked up the worksheet that he placed on my desk and looked over it. All it was asking for was basic information. I guess, this was nothing too hard to answer. It didn't dig deep, which I was grateful for. No need to take a walk down memory lane, because all I wanted to do was forget everything from the past.

I took a deep breath. Without looking up I began, "Sariah Queens, 17, december 26, black, I like most foods, so i don't have a favorite, sleeping and eating, undecided," I paused, "Who even has a favorite number? That's dumb," I earned a chuckle from that, "and sleeping."

"Wait, sleeping isn't a sport," he said. I glanced over at him to see that he had an amused expression on his face.

"Says who?" I replied.

"Says everyone," he challenged.

"Well, like always, everyone is wrong," I stated matter-of-factly.

He raised his hand in surrender, smiling, "Okay, okay, whatever you say. I mean, you are the queen," he sent me a wink at that. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"So I guess it's my turn," he started, "My name is Jace Jones, most people call me JJ. I'm 18. Birthday is May third, favorite color is blue, favorite food is pizza, I want to be a veterinarian, favorite number? Twenty-three I guess, and my favorite sport varies from basketball and football, seeing as I play both."

I wrote down all he said on the paper and was just writing the last bit as the bell rang. Not wanting to continue any further conversation, I got up and walked to the front, handing the worksheet to Ms. Wane. I then walked out into the busy hallway and was making my way to the exit when someone grabbed my wrist. I knew exactly who it was just by the touch of his hands.

I turned around, a little annoyed, "Did I leave something, again?" I always seemed to lose things, but I knew I didn't leave my phone seeing as it was in my hand at the moment.

He smiled at that. "No, no. I was just wondering if you wanted to come to a party tomorrow that will be at my house? Kind of a getting to know everyone party. Since you're new and all" he looked at me expectantly.

I shook my head, "Parties aren't really my thing." This was pretty much the truth. I didn't really want to spend my night amongst half naked, dry humping teenagers.

"Oh," his always present smile seem to drop a little, "Well, you could give me your number, so if you change your mind, I'll be able to send you the info." His smile was back. How can one person be this damn happy?

"I won't. But thanks for the invite," I turned around and walked away, ignoring the fact that he was calling my name. Will he ever learn

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Heyyy guys! Thank you so much for reading my story. I hope you enjoy it. Don't forget to like and comment!!! Constructive criticism is always welcomed.
-Monique