Tires, Fries, and Overrated Guys

Chapter 2

I packed up my binder and pencil case as the bell rang, because as usual, class change is a zoo. Nobody understands the way traffic is supposed to flow, so there are people going in every direction. Everyone is so busy darting in and out of traffic, they just part out of the way when I walk unflinchingly down the hall to my locker, refusing to move for anyone. Apparently someone else had the same idea because I walked right into that someone's chest. Fucking hell, I did not want to interact with people right now. I have to get to my English class. I looked up and saw that it was the Hummer owner and rolled my eyes.

"Fucking watch where you're going, idiot. Other people are walking here too." I snapped at the overgrown buffoon. Seriously who is that big? Whatever. I didn't wait for a reply, just pushed past and raced down the stairs to room 210.

I sat down in the closest desk to the door, pulled out a book I’m using for research, and put in my headphones. Looking around I took note that I was one of the first people in class, and went back to reading. As everyone filed in before the second bell would ring, someone slammed their books down beside me, making me glance up and glare at them. It turned into an eye roll when that someone turned out to be the fuckboy looking problem from work last night. Awesome. I put my headphones back in, and blasted Black Sheep by Gin Wigmore. The song ended and he turned to look at me but didn't say anything.

I waited, and waited. Finally I looked up, and narrowed my eyes at him. He grinned and his blue eyes seemed to glow a little from within. Damn fuckboy's and their good looks. I rolled my eyes and pulled my headphones from my ears as the teacher came rushing in, late as usual.

Mr. Ford was a pretty chill teacher. He liked to bicker with the kids and let us get out what we needed to say in class debates. The best part about him was definitely his wife, Mrs. Ford. She's the librarian, so his students get to take as many books as they want from the library, as long as it's for research.

Fuckboy leaned in too close, breaking my concentration, and tried to whisper to me. I jerked back in surprise and raised my eyebrows at him, clearly uncomfortable with the closeness of his body.

 "Don't be afraid babe. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just want to get to know you." He finally spoke quietly right next to my face. Jesus, what did he eat? Did he even brush his teeth? 

Not turning my face to him, I looked at him through the corner of my eye. I reached down into my bag, pulling out a stick of gum.
“Take a fucking hint.” I whisper back. 

Awkwardly, he takes the gum, and retreats back, defeated. His eyes lit up with a challenge a few minutes later as he retorted, "Such foul language. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"That took awhile, I understand that you’re slow.” I snicker quietly, staring ahead at the lesson. “But to answer your question, fuckin' rights I do. Not that it's any of your damn business." I hissed at him. He was really starting to rub me the wrong way. If I really tried to, I could ignore him and focus on Mr. Ford, who was talking about racism and black history.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes briefly, and tried to focus on the lesson. It was difficult to do when Fuckboy slowly moved his Goddamn desk back, so it was touching mine. I grit my teeth and kept my eyes on the video that was playing. Everything was going fine, until that creep, put his hand on mine and slipped a note into it. Seriously? Who the actual hell does that? Are we in elementary? Are we in a George Strait song? Am I Taylor Swift? Am I Tay-Tay? Am I feeling 22? I took a deep breath and closed my eyes again, blood pounding in my temple at the irritation bubbling up within me.

Still, I didn't look at him, and slipped the note into my pocket. He seemed satisfied with that, and leaned back in his chair. Good enough for now. The rest of the lesson went by without incident and I relaxed a little into my seat. I definitely was not going to be sitting here tomorrow. Maybe somewhere that I was surrounded. By quiet nerds, like Timmy. Timmy looks safe. Like a not traitor, that would be best. I smiled to myself as the plan started forming in my head.