There's nothing wrong with being a virgin... right?

Chapter 4

REMEMBER TO VOTE!!

Chapter 4

“You two girls were on your absolute last chance!” shouted Mr Flenning, or annoyingly stupid principle. Ever had someone spit at you for 20 minutes in a row? Well, I have now.

“We’re really sorry sir,” I muttered just to shut him up; jeez his spits were really pissing the crap out of me.

“Oh, you will be by the time I am finished with you young lady,” he snarled.

I don’t get it? How long does it take to make up a bloody decision anyway? We’ve been sat here for over half hour, and still all our lovely (note the sarcasm here) principle has only managed to give us a damn worthless lecture.

“When WILL you be finished sir?” Sophie asked monotonously.

Way to be smooth Soph, I muttered mentally. Now our retarded principal will really NOT let us go without a damn fight.

“Be quiet Miss Barlow,” he snapped. “I’m sure your parents will be ecstatic on hearing just how fabulous you have been in school lately.”

Sophie yawned. “Like I give a sock.”

Huh?

This only caused Spitty FLEMMING to raise his voice, which meant more freaking spit balls.

“Don’t you dare back chat me young lady,” he growled. “I could throw both of you out in a jiffy, but being nice and all, I’m just suspending you for at least a week.”

Wow, you’re nice, I mumbled to myself.

“Thank you sir, that’s really kind of you,” I sucked up, before Sophie opened her fat gob again.

“Don’t think this as a gratitude Miss Brout, this is serious and absolutely your LAST chance!”

Whatever. I lowered myself deeper into the spongy chair and waited patiently to face an angry mum and dad.

****

*At Home*

“You are bang out of order Ashley,” mum shouted for the millionth time now. WE had been home for almost an hour now, and she hasn’t stopped whining and screaming since then. Dad looks pissed off too…but I think he’s more pissed at mum than me though. That woman really can’t shut her mouth.

“I know mum, I know,” I replied impatiently as I grabbed the nearby apple from the dining table, only to have it snatched back by mum’s red hands.

What a cow!

“You are not eating or moving an inch from here until you tell us exactly what you were doing in town.”

I crossed my arms in annoyance. I had told her what, like six hundred times now that I had gone to have  lunch at McDonalds, but she was ever so determined on NOT believing me!

“Muuuum,” I whined, dropping my head in my hands. “I told you already what I was doing there, what more do you want me to say? If it satisfies you, fine, I was meeting my rapist, and we were planning a hot rape. Or is meeting my drug dealer for a supply of heroin sound more convincing?”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at mum’s shocked expression, and I think even dad was struggeling to hold back a chuckle.

“That’s it Ashley,” she snarled, putting her hands on her hip. Oh-oh, I could see where this was clearly leading to.

Wait for it.

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