Finding Luciana

1: Last day of Sophomore year

NOTE: BOLD IS TRANSLATIONS.

.:Luciana:.

I was watching the clock tick, the little hand moved. The teacher was droning on about our summer reading list and the essay. My best friend, Jenny, was sitting next to me, her pencil tapping as the seconds ticked by. 

Okay, 10 more seconds.....5 more seconds....... RING RING RING MOTHERFUCKERS.

I jumped out of my seat before anyone even blinked. God I hated my first period being english. That teacher drags it on so long and makes it unenjoyable. Ugh. 

"So~" Jenny asked, rubbing her arm against mine and winking at me. "How is you and the mans?" 

I giggled at her and swatted her away, "We're doing fine. In 2 weeks it will officially be a year." 

"Gah!! I'm so happy for you two!!" She squealed, shaking me. I laughed and playfully punched her arm. 

"Look at that, my beautiful queen! Oh she looks so beautiful today, breathtaking even!!" I heard a voice yell from somewhere in front of me. I covered my mouth and laughed, knowing I was blushing profusely. Noah parted the crowed and held his arms open for me. I covered my face and smiled like an idiot, then held my arms out and ran into his. He picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his hips. He held my face and kissed my cheeks, then kissed my lips. I giggled and kissed him back. When someone cleared their throat I was slowly put back on my own two feet. 

"Aren't you supposed to be at Biology, Mr. Yuga?" Said the sassy gym teacher, Mrs. Ghon. (A/N: pronounced like "gone") I cleared my throat and averted my gaze.

"I'll see you at lunch." I said, kissing his cheek quickly. I glanced at Mrs. Ghon and spun on my heel, heading towards the gym. First boring english, then mostly enjoyable gym. I read the sign on the locker room door. 

'Ladies, gather the things in your locker. Once it is cleaned out come to me with your locker number and lock, then sit on the bleachers.' 

"Cool sauce." I muttered as I walked to my locker. 'LOCKER 387' then began to put my combo into the lock. The other girls in the locker room were loud as hell and pulling whole outfits and bottles of perfume out of their lockers and spraying nasty cheap ass perfume everywhere. I held my breath, grabbed the shirt and pants that where in the locker, stuffed them into my bag, then tied the sneakers to my bag and slammed the locker shut. I made it to Mrs. Ghon's office and handed her the lock, taking breaths of fresh air. She wrote things on a sheet then tossed the lock in a mostly empty bin by her desk. 

"Thank you, you're good to go, Ms. Amaiah. Go and hang out until the end of the hour." She said, offering me a smile. I gave her a small smile then walked out. I glanced into the gym from the door way and leaned on the wall. The boys were playing basketball, some of the athletic girls were playing volleyball or soccer, and others where either sitting or walking laps in the gym. I decided instead to sit and read. I found a secluded spot near the edge of the bleachers at the very top and settled into the uncomfortable plastic benches. As I read quietly I heard voices beneath me.

"You said 30 for an 8th." Complained a female voice. 

"Nope. I said it was 30 if you give me something extra," Said a male voice. "But if you don't, then it's 50. A deals a deal babe, thats show biz." I could head the menacing smirk in his voice. I heard rustling and got ready to blast as soon as possible, but instead I heard her sigh and a low clap sounded.

"Pleasure doin business, mami." The male whispered, then a girl named Ruby made a mad dash out from under the bleachers to her friends. Then the man slithered out from beneath the bleachers. From the perfectly combed hair and neck tattoo I could tell it was Pablo Angeles. He's a drug dealer at our school, tattoos all over, a deadly white smirk, and eyes that could impregnate a girl with one look. Built like the perfect Mexican god, with the personality with every demon on this planet and below it, he could slither his was out of every situation. Well, almost. Rumor has it he's been to court, but who cares. He's a rat in a man's clothing.