Sounds drifted through the classroom like a speck of dust caught in a tornado, more loud and fast than soft and graceful. The teachers’ lack of fucks to give about the students had me slightly frustrated and the frustration grew with every spit ball that landed in my brown hair. I could feel my shoulders begin to twitch with agitation, something I recently noticed as a habit of mine. I sent a glare directly at the supervisor of my ancient history class. The plump man who would normally stand no more than 5 feet 4 inches sat at the front of the class twirling like a small child in circles on the swivel chair that was reserved for him.
With every twitch of my shoulders I felt my mind become numb and the imaginary filter that was holding my raging words start to shatter like a glass bottle on cold tile floors. Finally I couldn’t take it any longer, I was shaking like a crack head and was waiting for one more spit ball to collide with my perfectly braided locks and then it happened. In one swift movement I had managed to stand from the solid, olive green chair the school provided that felt like sitting on concrete anyways, and grab the collar of whomever was sitting behind me.
The sounds weren’t drifting anymore but people eyesight’s were. Like moths to a flame everyone had drawn their attention to the quiet girl who kept to herself and the class clown who never shut his mouth. I pulled his collar tightly, twisting it and I could see the fear he was desperately trying to hide, “I will personally shove each of these spit balls up your ass if you don’t fuck off right now.” I say through gritted teeth and knowing my luck that’s when the pig of a teacher decides to stop acting like a child and more like his profession.
“Irwin, Jaeger. Office now.” His voice wasn’t as angry as you would assume, given the threatening position I had this moron in but that was probably because every teacher wanted to do the same to this guy. His name is Ashton Irwin, 6 foot tall give or take, most people describe him as “gorgeous,” or “sexy,” I myself prefer the term nit-wit. It has a nice ring to it.
I shove Ashton back with only a quarter of my proper force and stand up properly fully prepared to go to the office when he decides to make matters worse for himself “Someone’s on their period,” if the statement wasn’t enough to get me riled up the sing-song tone of voice defiantly was. I took a step back with my left foot, swinging my right leg up to collide with the side of his head.
“Taylor, separate them!” The teacher squealed like a poked pig as I watched Ashton cradle his face in his large hands. Taylor is the captain of the schools dance team, she is the definition of scrawny and although I’ve never spoken to her in my life I could just about guarantee she was the world’s largest douche, all evidence for that is obvious in the way she treats her friends like lap dogs. Why Sir would get her to separate us is beyond me I could snap this bitch over my leg like a long stick.
“I’ll handle it Sir,” That ladies and gentleman is the voice of my one true savour and best friend. When I transferred here last year I had no one, seeing as moved in the middle of the second last year no clique was willing to accept me, except for Gray Fullbuster of course. The raven haired boy usually keeps to himself, much like me but when were around each other it’s a different story.
He placed his hand on my shoulder and I could feel the coldness of his long fingers through the fabric of the schools ugly blue uniform. “Alison, don’t make me drag you out of here,” he attempted to sound tough but I could see the grin forming on his face.
“Jaeger you are testing my patience.” Porky pig spoke from his swivel chair, obviously his stumpy legs needed a break from holding up all the weight if he is sitting down already. I gave him the last glare of that class and waited for Gray to escort both AssFun and I out of the cramped classroom and into the blazing hot sun.
