How Did We Get Here? (Draft)

Kinda The Prologue I Guess

Leslie Daniels drummed her fingers on her desk and stared out the window. The raindrops rolled down the glass and a quick flash of electric light was followed by a deep rumble in the distance. The dark clouds growled hungrily. This particular thunderstorm had been looming over the small town of Crystal River, Florida for the past week, without showing any signs of slowing down.

A waving hand in the corner of her vision made her turn. The algebra teacher, Mr. Lindsay, was failing to keep the kids' focus on the useless equations he had scribbled across the white board. His crazy eyebrows were furrowed so close together they almost connected. He had a five o'clock shadow even though it was only 10 in the morning, and it was clear that he had pressed a little too hard with his razor, because his naturally pink-red face was sprinkled with small nicks and missed beard hairs.

"Eyes up here! Class, it's just thunder and lightning. Nothing new. Let's get back to work." He rambled on about the parabolas and geometric equations, but no one tried to pretend like they cared.

One girl, sitting next to the window, pulled out her phone and tried to get a picture of the bright blue bursts of electricity outside the window. Mr. Lindsey walked by her table and plucked the phone out of her hands without so much as a glance at her. The girl rolled her eyes and began to doodle in her notebook. Even though it was only Wednesday, that was the third time Lindsay had taken her phone this week.

Leslie leaned back in her chair and balanced on the back legs. She was sure that the clock was ticking slower than normal. She had no idea how she was going to survive the next five hours of school.

Someone's foot slammed into her back, sending her heart into her stomach and forcing all four of the chair legs on the floor. A small gasp came out of her lungs and she whipped around in her seat.

Montana Morrison was slouched in his seat, arms crossed, a smirk spreading across his chapped lips. "Four on the floor, Daniels." He said in a mocking tone and jerked his head to the side, flipping his greasy blond hair out of his dull brown eyes.

"You want some help with that worksheet, Monty?" She said mockingly.

The smile slipped off his lips and his jaw tightened. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that," He said through his teeth.

His feet were outstretched in front of him, with one still on the back of her seat. She pushed his ankle down towards the ground, hard, causing his foot to hit the ground with a loud thwack.

Mr. Lindsey raised his voice slightly. "And what would those equal, Miss Daniels?" Leslie turned back around in her chair and tucked her ankles under her seat. "Could you repeat the question, please?"

His poorly shaved upper lip twitched with frustration and she could hear Montana snickering in her ear. She bit her lip to suppress a giggle.

"I said, what are the two x-intercepts?"

"It's, um," She glanced down at her notes. "4 and 9."

Mr. Lindsay sniffed and clenched his jaw. He didn't want to admit that she was right. Without saying a word, he turned his back to her and wrote her answers on the board. A humorous silence filled the air. Leslie looked over her shoulder to shoot a grin at Montana. He pretended she wasn't there and slouched a little farther into his seat.

"Morrison," Lindsay's marker hovered over the board. "Is this an arithmetic or geometric line?"

Montana cleared his throat. Leslie chewed on her hoodie strings. She could hear him shuffling his feet anxiously. "I don't know,"

Lindsay turned around. "You don't know?"

Montana's gaze stayed fixated on a specific spot on the floor and he didn't reply. Just when Lindsay opened his mouth to make him feel worse, the intercom above them beeped.