Tales From The Ghetts

Focus

authors note: 100 reads already? thank you guys! sorry for the delayed chapter but i was just stuck on what to write. this chapter's actually been rewritten too. hope you guys enjoy this slightly shorter chapter.

Hope was pissed.

She was standing outside a classroom, arguing with a teacher because she refused to go inside. The teachers name was Mr Harriman, a tall white guy with black hair and glasses. The class in question was boring, while other rooms played music and danced and basically had little mini parties, this one people had to sit and be quiet, playing board games and no phones were allowed. She had unfortunately arrived late from break time after going to the toilet - assuring her friends she would meet with them after - and couldn't go into one of the packed classrooms, though she really wanted to because they were already at maximum capacity. She refused to spend her last day being bored.

"I'm not going in! You can't fucking make me!" Hope snapped, pointing her fingers at him and rolling her neck back and forth. "I dare you to try it."

"Hope," Mr Harriman tried to reason, his eyes full of exhaustion. She wouldn't listen to him though. He couldn't do anything, it was the last day after all. "The other rooms are packed. Just sit in here, it's only gonna be an hour -"

"Don't care. I'm not going." Hope crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. She refused to look at him, turning her head away from him as he continued to ramble on. Hope never did anything she didn't want to. It wasn't that she was a bad kid, though she did get in trouble a lot, she just always stuck up for herself. Her mum would try and convince her to be more lenient but she refused. She used to be in year seven, letting people take what they want from where whether it was pens or answers to class work and people walked all over her. It's when she came back from year eight summer with a brand new attitude that people stopped fucking with her.

Mr Harriman sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Come on Hope. You used to be such a good kid, you was never one for arguing back. What happened?"

"Please, did you even know who I was back then? You lot only paid attention to the nerds or bad breed girls. Don't act like you appreciated me being some pussyhole," Hope said, still refusing to look at him. She wouldn't let anyone walk over her again. Especially some dickhead teacher, who definitely wouldn't keep this same energy when it came to Chantelle or Imaani or Sienna or any of those girls. Teachers acted scared of them for some reason, so she'd give them a reason to be afraid of her.

The door at the end of the corridor opened and for a moment, she thought another teacher would come in and try and convince her to join the class. She huffed and puffed and tutted. She was not in the mood for anymore scoldings today.

Then a tall dark skinned boy with waves, a strong jawline, a big grin showing of straight white teeth and a lean built entered the corridor, walking all swag like and confident. Her heart softened and a small smile graced her features. It was James. The boy she had her eyes set on ever since she entered year nine. She never noticed him before, too busy caught up in improving herself to focus on the older boys - as well as flirting with boys in her group - but there was something about James. When he joined at the beginning of last year, bussing jokes with all the cool boys and flirting with all the girls, her heart immediately beat for him. He was different from the other boys. He wasn't always behaving badly. He wasn't always picking on the neeky boys. He was friendly and made everyone laugh and that made him a king in her eyes. Despite rumours of him being a fuckboy and sleeping with any girl he had a chance to, there was something about a confident funny boy that made her want to jump out her draws. She'd flirted with him on a couple of occasions, either teasing him on the bus or annoying him during detention - and he always popped up to her first in messages - but she hadn't pursued a relationship with him. Yet.