Bullied By Michael Clifford - Muke

The Story

Luke's POV

I walked into school the next morning, completely confident. I wasn't afraid of Michael and his friends. I was used to bullies; they were all the same. Why would I be frightened? They're no different than everyone else in this school, importance wise. We're all equal; I wasn't going to let him walk all over me. Despite this, I wasn't going to start a fight, either. Firstly, I didn't stand a chance of winning. And secondly, I didn't feel like getting expelled the second day of school.

Calum drove me home yesterday after the party (which we'd literally stayed at for ten minutes), all quiet and moody. He was so comfortable with me, although we'd known each other a day, but after we'd left, he wasn't in a good mood at all. He dropped me off with a murmur 'goodbye' then left. He didn't call me or text me, even though I'd sent him multiple messages asking if he was okay. Maybe Calum just wasn't interested.

I ended up being dropped off at school by my mum, who was also in a bad mood because she was late for work. I didn't like it when she was mad, because it wasn't like I had anybody else to talk to, so I felt very alone. It seemed like everyone was avoiding me.

I got to English five minutes early, because my mum demanded that I'd be at school earlier than usual so she could get to work. I just took a seat in the middle, and read my book. I didn't sit at the front because that's where all the weird, know-it-all kids go, and the back is where the rebels go. I didn't want to fit in with any of those groups so I decided the centre was probably the best option.

The class began flooding in after I read about ten pages, and all of them I didn't know, apart from Kellin, who I'd seen at the party. He ducked his head down so his jet black hair fell into his eyes and slid into a seat in the back row- right behind me.

Our teacher Mr Jenkins entered the room after that, and began talking to the class about Romeo and Juliet. Just as he was talking about techniques Shakespeare used, a familiar figure ambled through the door. Michael.

As always, his rock-shaggy hair was bright red and sticking up in different directions. His green eyes were wide and just above was his eyebrow piercing. He wore a simple black band T-Shirt and skinny black jeans, as well as Dr Martens and an unbuttoned brown checked shirt.

"How nice of you to join us, Mr Clifford," Mr Jenkins snapped, shaking his head angrily. "I told Principle Roy not to give me you again, but as always, nobody listens to me. Just sit down and shut up." He barked, ignoring Michael's smug smile.

The trouble maker boy staggered through the class and sat right behind me. I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply; why did he have to sit there? I knew he was going to ruin the class I love the most. He immediately put his feet up at the back of my chair, but didn't speak. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of turning around, although I really wanted to tell him how childish he was. I valued my life.

Mr Jenkins didn't speak any more of Michael, but just continued talking about the Shakespearean play. I was very interested, although I'd read the book a hundred times, and also wrote a bunch of reviews on it. I was still excited to hear about other people's views. From the sound of Jenkins, he seemed really smart about it.

"Your first project will be to write an essay about how you feel about the book." Jenkins told us after forty minutes of explaining the book. After we'd all said we'd read it, he jumped straight to the task. "You will all be in threes, but you all need to contribute to this. I will know if you haven't, so don't think about dumping it all on one individual. Lastly... Be quiet!"

The class began cheering and partnering up with their friends, apart from me and a couple others who were staring at the table in defeat. We were the ones who dreaded group work because nobody wanted to go with us. I sighed, but Mr Jenkins continued.