My American Dream

Chapter 6

I hoped this class wouldn't require me to introduce myself.

Not only because I was tired of it, having done it in all three classes that day, but also because this class was the biggest I'd seen.

It appeared I'd be sharing the room with around one hundred other students.

Unlike the other classes there weren't individual desks. Each desk was long and could hold around twenty people.

The desks were on small platforms, like bleachers, all in semi-circles facing the podium and projector screen in the front. There were seven desk rows.

I took a seat in the third row down, four rows up from the podium, where the teacher busily attended to his computer.

In the front sat the smart, confident students just begging to be picked when they raised their hands.

In the back where, of course, the problem kids.

In the middle there were most of the students.

A crowd surrounded a handful of students, talking and laughing. It was clear they were the popular kids.

Setting my Psychology textbook on my desk, I watched the crowd all dissipate to seats.

The boy in the middle of the crowd sat with his legs extending onto the desk in front of him.

Confidence radiated from his broad, well set face.

He turned his head to look behind his broad shoulder and winked in my direction.

His mouth pulled into a smirk, and his blue eyes lit up as he winked.

I looked away, blushing embarrassedly, realising I had been smiling weirdly this whole time.

"Attention please," the teacher called out. "I won't have any one making my class into a circus."

The teacher looked over the students with a stern look on his face.

"Could the students in the back move further up to the empty seats closer please?" The teacher requested.

I looked back and watched them file down obediently, except one. He sat perfectly still, not moving an inch.

I looked a little closer.

It's the Jerk! I noticed, but didn't exclaim this aloud.

I could've recognised his face anywhere.

As usual his mouth was drawn into a scowl, it looked to be permanent on his face as if he'd never smiled before. His eyes gazed down at books in front of him. His shoulders hunched down as if someone had deflated them.

"Hurry up and find your seats," the teacher ordered. "We only have an hour in this class."

The students grunted as they headed into different seats.

I leaned as far into the back of my seat as I could as a rather fat boy stepped over my legs, his side nearly bumping my breasts, as he climbed over me.

Ugh, I complained to myself. He could've asked me to move.

I wasn't sure whether I should introduce myself or not.

The boy was short, chunky, and had dirty blonde hair.

He fidgeted with a rubber band in his hand. Moving it from finger to finger, out-stretching it each time.

Ugh, I thought. Just my luck, I'm stuck next to one of the problem kids.

"Please open your books to page two hundred and sixty three," the teacher repeated the number, "two hundred and sixty three."