B For Bad Boy

Chapter One: I'm Not a Queen

Chapter One: I'm Not a Queen

"So I take it as you people understand the paragraph?"

Mr Brown's blurry voices merely reached my eardrums, in and out of my focus and once again, I was confused what I was here for in the first place. 

I unconsciously reached for my pen and parchments to scrabble an useless dress design on it. Surely, it wasn't weird for me because I sucked at studying. I sucked at basically everything.

Our test results were given the last Wednesday. The usual last, or above the last place was already reserved for me, Evelyn Joan, so I didn't care much about it. The only problem is, even though I sucked at almost everything like I said, I didn't suck as much as I do on other things than one.

Undoubtedly, like the other typical parents, my mom Gillian and my dad Anthony was against that. 

That day when in the evening I reached my home, mom and dad were both inside the house, I don't know what for because in the working day evenings, mom usually stays at her restaurant and dad in his office but, coincidentally (or because of my bad-fate) they were sitting on the couch set, their arms crossed and the veins in their temple throbbing vaguely, clear that they had already known my result, which was inside of my bag pack, carrying the F grade.

My brother Blake Joan also sneered at the fact that I was only good at one thing. He is the quarterback of Northern High and mom and dad were proud of him. And he thought himself something of a Greek God, what he never was and couldn't be. 

I didn't give much thought about it to be honest. 

From when I was younger, I have been failing and again passing like a bullet rushing to the edge of my earlobe and failing again so it didn't exactly made me feel bad anymore. Not that I didn't try, I was just fed up.

And not that I was famous for failing, there were kids who were worse than me. There were the many who failed in every subjects, where I only failed in one or two. 

Oh I didn't tell you about my super secret hobby did I.

I have been drawing clothes as long I could remember. It was my only friend when no one was beside me, more specifically, no one actually ever had. 

Crap, maybe I'm being dramatic? My best friend Rose was with me all the time.

I bordered the corner of the gown I was drawing unaware, heaving a sigh. 

This was boring. 

Classes, math, Biology- every thing was stupid. What's the point of studying? No one grabs me in the middle of a road and ask 'What is the value of X if Y is 67 and XY is 100. 

Do they?

"Ms Joan, I suppose you don't find the class interesting enough to stop drawing on your book?"

Mr Brown's mild yet strong voice reaches my ear, making me startled as the half of the class giggled. Inside, I said "No I don't" but outside, I licked my suddenly dried lips, trying to answer. "I- I wasn't ..."

"I think a detention will do, since I'm seeing you trying not to follow my class willingly. And you've failed in your mid-term, not to mention," he coldly added.

My ears flame in fire, and my eyes went teary in anger that I forgot even to protest. I let my yellowish-blonde hair fall on my face in humiliation. I felt Mr Brown eyed me a few seconds before returning again to his reading.

It had become more of a 'like I care' thing, but it was nothing what I could ignore completely. Though it was obvious that I'm used to it, but still, sometimes it hurt.