All I Have

Chapter 1 ~ Please Don't Do Cocaine in the Academy Bathrooms

'Raine, is it too much to request that you wake up long enough to hand over your homework assignment?'

I lift my head clumsily from the desk, trying to hide the headphone that I've hidden in one ear to help me pass the time. I blink up at the menacing eyes boring down at me by my English tutor, who seems less than impressed that I dared to fall asleep during her lecture.

Honestly, with the monotone nature of her voice, I assumed she must be used to it by now.

I hear a few giggles and mutters from around the room at the dark red imprint on my forehead from the school desk, but I merely shake my fringe back in front of my tired eyes and clear my throat. I wiggle myself back into my chair, trying to ignore the way that it cracks from my restless sleep.

'The homework assignment.' I repeat slowly, 'Our assignment that was homework, yes.'

I begin to rummage around the papers that have collected in the bottom of my school bag, which are uncomfortably clumped together. I pull them apart, ripping a few that I hope aren't important, as I try to find anything of use, despite the fact that I do not remember a homework assignment at all.

My clumsy hands send doodles and notes completely unrelated to this, or pretty much any other class I take, cascading onto the floor, zipping around on the polished wood. I accidentally elbow the corner of the desk painfully, reaching for a particularly well shaded illustration of the kid who kicks the back of my chair, depicted with an axe in his head.

I love that drawing, I couldn't bear to part with it.

'Could I get the quick run-down of that one again?' I squint up.

'Your comparative piece on the political influences of Shakespeare's complete works.' She says crisply, and I try to remember a time in this class when we even looked at Shakespeare. Then I try to remember a time I paid enough attention to know.

The boy beside me coughs some joke about my lack of intellect, causing the class to erupt in laughter.

'Ah yes, that one.' I nod.

I lean down, pulling my backpack onto the desk, intentionally sending the colour-coded pens of the boy beside me flying onto the floor. He kicks the side of my chair grumpily, before leaning over to pick them up. Luckily for me, his movement coincides with the accidental dropping of my notebook, which slaps him loudly on the side of his stupid head.

He shoots back up, red faced and angry, glaring with flaming nostrils at the teacher. He looks a little bit like a horse, and I try not to laugh.

'Miss, did you see what she just did to me?' He bursts.

'Without assaulting any more of your classmates, Miss Carson, do you have your assignment or not?'

I can tell by the look in her eyes that no amusing or sarcastic comment is going to make up for this, so I shrug lightly, accepting my fate.

'Erm...'

I try to decide the best course of action, wondering if honesty will provide some level of leniency for my punishment. I would unfortunately however, bet the diploma I'm probably not going to get, that that's the definition of a pipe dream. The whole class is on the edge of their seats, praying for some kind of entertainment this afternoon, by witnessing the unleashing of the seven circles of hell on me.

'I might have my notes?' I squeak, fearfully.

The tutor raises her eyebrows so far up her forehead that they look as if they might get caught in the wretched woman's hair. A wave of slight recognition runs through me and I pull a slightly damp and stained piece of paper from my bag and hastily place it on top of the pile of crisp, carefully typed assignments from the other students.