Little Green Stars

Chapter 3-If Looks Could Kill

"What's wrong with your face?" Marrie Baker's words startle me awake.

"What?" I ask, taken off guard.

"Your face."

"I was asleep," I reply, collecting my crap once I notice the bell is about to ring.

"Who the hell sleeps with their eyes open?!"

Bitch, I do, I want to say, but I can't get in any more trouble. Besides, I don't have time to be in trouble right now, not when I'm dealing with all this other crap.

"I'm so happy you've enjoyed looking at my face. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Marrie's eyes shift around to make sure no one heard me.

"Freakin crazy," I hear her mumble under her breath as the bell rings.

I get up and head two rows forward just to sit back down. I have five minutes to kill, so I pull out some popcorn to snack on that I nabbed from the counselor's office earlier. I watch as the popcorn sprinkles around me.

"Vel," Mr. Dwyer says in his casual perturbance, "How many times do I have to tell you not to eat popcorn in here! People dissect shit on these tables."

"You know, Mr. Dwyer," I begin, stuffing more into my mouth. "If you kept me in the same seat both periods, I wouldn't be up here annoying you."

"You know, Ms. Shamrock, if you passed all your classes, then you wouldn't have to bother me two periods in a row," Mr. Dywer replies as he rolls around in his chair to pass out the bells, too lazy to get up. That's why I like him. I appreciate some old fashioned laziness.

"Fair point, BUT, you do choose the seating charts, so..."

"Here," Dwyer says, throwing the rest of the paper stack at me. "I put you up here because you can't get along with anyone."

"Why can't I sit alone in the back?" I ask, wiping my oily popcorn hands all over the bells.

"I can't force you to socialize, but I can make sure you don't avoid all human interaction."

"Shots fired," I say, returning to my seat. "Hey," I continue, "you always seem to know weird stuff."

Dwyer looks interested as he rolls closer. "Your point?"

"Do you know anything about sleep paralysis?"

"Sleep paralysis?" he asks as Mike Newman bumps his chair.

"Hey, man. A little respect!" Dwyer calls.

"Sorry," Mike mumbles, without looking up from his phone.

"Ever heard of phone paralysis?" Dwyer continues, crossing his arms.

"Is that even a thing?"

"Not a thing but a BIG MOOD, where humanoid teens can't move or participate in everyday life because they can't get their snotty noses out of their PHONES!"

Did he just say BIG MOOD?

"Dywer, I'm shook, you right here right now are, in fact, a BIG MOOD."

"Damn right Shamrock," Dwyer says amused then continues, "Why in the world are you asking about sleep paralysis?"

Because I keep waking up every night at the same time and can't move, oh, and maybe because I watch myself leave my body but then can't remember anything after that.

"No reason."

Dwyer points his finger at me and turns his head suspiciously to add, "Have you been playing around with the Devil's lettuce?"