The English Paper (Scomiche Fanfiction)

Chapter 3: It Takes Two to Tango

GUYS I'M PULLING A BEYONCE AND DROPPING THE NEXT CHAPTER EARLY! YOUR WELCOME AND ENJOY! STAY FCUTE!!!(;

Mitch’s POV

Well, it was official. My favorite subject has been absolutely marred thanks to Mr. Party-All-Day-Get-High-At-Night Hoying. I’ve never had to sit next to anyone who wasn’t a remotely good student.

But here I am, sitting with the King of all Drug Addicts in no other than my favorite class, English.

Ever since Mr. Tankem told me to keep the “homo out of his class,” I’ve been trying to shake it off. I speak as low and manly as possible when I answer his questions, and if he walks by me I try to bring up cars or sports. I’d like to think he put me next to Drug-o Hoying because he didn’t know I was the holy child of the classroom and he was the Spawn of Satan; but let’s face it- I came to introduce myself that morning and Blondie’s eyes were clearly bloodshot from some morning high.

I hated drugs. They were sorry excuses for dealing with your problems, and only people too weak to put up with the stress used them.

Like Friday-Night-Live Hoying.

 However, no matter how much I hate his sorry, party-going and drug obsessed butt, I had to admit he was cute. He had the most luxurious looking, golden blonde hair with just the right amount of gel. And, he had a pair of dazzling blue eyes that stood out against the redness behind them; they looked like oceans with sequined fish swimming through, and if you looked deep enough you could almost see his-

Wait… what am I saying? He’s cute, but he’s not a Zac Efron. Or a Beyoncé. And he definitely wasn’t Channing Tatum.

Strangely, however, I was okay with that. Just not okay with the parties and the drugs, and especially the D’s and F’s on his report card.

Enough about his looks, though- more about his actions. I told him I was a Junior and he seemed completely entranced; probably thinking about ways to manipulate me into doing his homework for him. And the entire hour of English, he stared at me. Stared at me! I don’t know what he was looking at. Maybe I have some sort of volcanic pimple growing on my cheek that wasn’t there this morning.

Either way, he couldn’t take his eyes off me.

And I didn’t complain.

Later I was on my way to Political Science when he slapped me- on the butt. Right there, in the middle! Then he winks at me and giggles- giggles. Dr. Cocaine giggled… and it was because of me.

I was annoyed he touched me, and thought about telling someone to keep him away- expel him, for all I care. But the wink, and the giggle- it was cute. Really cute. 10 seconds of pure, Zac Efron material.

Of course I’d never like Meth Man. He was bad for me on so many levels, and, if he kept touching me and catching me off guard like that, I might just march to the office and have him suspended.

My house was in viewing distance, so I shook my thoughts of Party Boy. I told my mom and dad everything, all the time, but I wanted to keep him a secret. They’d get him expelled and I didn’t want that for him.

Wait- I don’t care about him.

But no one should be expelled just for flirting with me- after all, I am irresistible.

Laughing to myself, I opened the front door and greeted my parents. They gave me hugs, kissed my forehead, and immediately started asking what happened today.

“Not much,” I said, smiling the best I could. “Political Science was really interesting, and Geometry’s gonna be a fun challenge.”

“What about English? I know how much my honey bear loves to write!” My mom squealed with excitement.

I immediately put my guards up. “Nothing, nothing at all. It was super boring, actually. I might be losing my love of finding grammatical errors,” I smiled and feigned a laugh, but things took a serious turn.

“Mitchie,” Dad started. “Are you sure? Who’s your teacher? I’ll set them straight.”

“No!” I said quickly, and a lot louder than I meant to. “I-I mean… Mr. Tankem is great. The absolute best,” I planned on not telling my parents about anything that happened in English. Not saying anything is a thousand times easier than lying. I was a horrible liar, and my parents knew, too; my voice got higher (I know, I know, higher than it already was) and I couldn’t look them in the eyes.

“Mitchell Grassi, what’d going on?” My dad asked.

“Alright, alright,” I took a deep breath and tried to make my voice as level as possible. “I want to forget about English because I forgot to introduce myself to Mr. Tankem this morning and now I feel like I’m in the average clump of students.”

I waited for their response, praying they’d but it.

“Oh, Mitch-Mitch!” Mom engulfed me in a hug. “That’s it? Don’t you were! My baby is way too smart to be in the average group! Mr. Tankem will take notice of your big brain soon! Keep your head up, cutie!”

The anxiety building in my stomach vanished. They bought it, I’m off the hook.

After telling both my parents that I didn’t want anything to eat after school, I grabbed my Jansport backpack and ran up the stairs. I threw my bag onto my bed and closed the door behind me.

It’d been less than 3 days with Scott Hoying and he’d already influenced the bad side in me.

Lying to my parents? Protecting misfits?

But strangely, no matter how disappointed I was in myself, I felt alive- on fire, even. It was like a whole new side of me was awake and throbbing, and the new-me had vengeful plans.

It takes two to tango, and if Party Boy Hoying was going to try to throw me off my game by flirting with me, than I’d just have to throw him off his first.

Get ready for a whole lot of Mitch Grassi this Saturday, Scottie Boy.