I wasn't excited for English.
I did not pick out an outfit especially because I had English today.
I didn't want to impress my teacher.
I didn't even like him that much, and I definitely wasn't flattered that he may or may not have been flirting with me. That would have been ridiculous.
Still, when I came downstairs in my favorite shirt and jeans, and my mother remarked 'you look nice today, Frankie', I couldn't deny the turn my stomach gave. Maybe he'd notice I looked nice. And maybe I gave a shit a little bit more than I was willing to admit.
I wolfed down my breakfast and jumped up, kissing my Mom on the cheek as I left.
"Where's the fire?" she exclaimed. I slowed down intentionally, smiling sheepishly at her.
"Nothing. Just, I don't know. I'm feeling restless." I lied. She shrugged and waved me off as I started the journey to school.
I was one of those kids who lived awkwardly close enough to the school so I could walk, but far enough that I really didn't want to walk. Still, the weather wasn't that bad, considering it was October, so I didn't mind the stroll – it helped me to clear my head before school.
I worked out that, since I had English just before lunch, I had three whole lessons in which to ready myself, and to try and convince myself that I was totally not crushing on my teacher. Of course, I knew that would be shattered the moment he started reading, but I commended myself for at least trying.
I reached school as the bell rang and followed my peers into the building, feeling somewhat like sheep being herded for slaughter in the way that we all mindlessly followed each other.
My friend Chris managed to catch up with me at some point and grabbed my backpack, pulling himself up so he was level with me.
"How's it going?" he asked, dodging younger students. I smiled at him, happy for some normality.
"It's fine. I'm dreading English." I said. I don't know what made me say it – it kind of just spilled out. Chris snorted.
"You got that right. Damn, if I have to hear that old fuck read another word from that shitty book, I'm going to have to write another book called To Kill A Chris."
I rolled my eyes at the shitty joke, but laughed anyway. I didn't agree with him, of course, but what was I going to say? 'Hey don't say that, Mr. Way is nice and have you ever noticed his eyes before?' It was just easier to pretend I agreed.
Chris and I both walked towards our Geography classroom, and he held open the door for me in mock courtesy. I laughed and pulled him in the classroom with me, and we sat down at our seats at the far end of the room.
Unlike me, Chris actually enjoyed Geography, so I was pretty much stuck doodling while he wrote down notes vigorously. I wasn't very good at drawing, so my butterflies and flowers ended up looking like deformed dinosaurs. Whatever, that was cooler anyway.
"Iero, what is the difference between a destructive and constructive plateline?" called my teacher from the front. I laughed nervously.
"Something about how one smashes" I said vaguely. He rolled his eyes, but continued.
"I think what Mr. Iero was trying to say is that..." but I tuned him out. It's not like I actually cared about volcanoes or whatever the hell he was talking about.
In fact, I really didn't care for anything in any of my other lessons, either. It must have been quite obvious, too, because during our break, Chris expressed his concern.
