"If I pass this quiz will you give me your babies?"
"I knew this wouldn't last but fuck you, don't you leave me here!"
Teacher's pet, if I'm so special why am I secret? Do you regret the things we shared that I'll never forget?
...
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ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ
The bell echoed like a personified halo, beckoning students from their individual Hells and encouraging them to finally leave the school grounds.
Teachers yelled homework after retreating kids, and students gathered together to walk, talk and rant about their day as it gradually came to a close.
Michael loved the end of day bell just as much as most other students, but he couldn't help it when it took him longer than others to pack up and leave. He was a nervous boy, a slow and sometimes skittish sophomore with big dreams and an even bigger heart.
His dad used to say he was autistic, scream at him and mock him for his little ticks and muscle jerks, but when his mother finally had enough of her bastard of a partner Michael wasn't called that anymore.
His art teacher rose from her desk, beginning to pack up her own stuff and put it into her bags whilst Michael tried to fix one final line in his drawing Mr Hemmings had asked for.
"Michael, bell's gone." The woman gently reminded and Michael got up from his seat.
Green eyes didn't remove themselves from his art, fingers still working his charcoal pencil for a good few more seconds before he finally began to pack up too.
"Sorry, Miss." He apologised with pink cheeks of embarrassment, stuffing his pencil case into his bag followed shortly by his art book.
Careful hands picked up his finished piece of work, bag now on his back as he gave one final awkward 'bye Miss' to Miss Brown and hurried out of the room. He delved into the dwindling crowd of students, unaware that he was Miss Brown's favourite student, unaware that he was the popular girl group's biggest crush, unaware that he was utterly loved and adored by so many people.
He was always too lost in his head to focus on other people who weren't him, Ashton or his mother. His mother mostly, he loved his mum. She was so sweet and caring and always made sure he was okay—he's getting lost on a tangent.
His eyes flickered around, bracing him back into reality and out of his distracting thoughts. They met with a recognisable face among the bare few left inside the main school entrance/exit, and he took a deep breath; glancing down at his art he held protectively in his hands.
He approached the tall blond chemistry teacher who was speaking with a pair of teachers from the school's office management team. A nervous sweat threatened to break through the surface of his skin, and he knew his neck would be speckled red in an anxious rash that kissed his cheeks with a matching soft scarlet colour. He hated speaking to people he didn't know, it always made him feel awkward; scared he could mess up and make a horrible first impression.
