"Can we help you?" I turned on my fake polite and innocent smile, hands clasped ahead of me whereas Nico fought the urge to pee his pants in fear as he trembled like a chameleon on a frail twig."Shouldn't you two be in class?" She asked, voice heavy with authority."Should we?I can't remember. I have a lousy short term memory,"I replied, still maintaining the innocent facade. Amanda didn't appreciate that.Peering behind the victimizzed locker of my unfortunate revenge prank , Amanda shifted death glares between Nico and I. "What were you doing in that locker?It's not even yours ,isn't it?""Oh, you mean this locker?" I faced the obvious locker and back to her. "Just cleaning it out a bit,as a token of our appreciation to the owner of the locker.""Isn't that Charlotte's locker?"She asked, eyebrow raised."You must be really smart. You probably graduated from Harvard ,yes?"My face lit up in an impressed smirk even though I knew that she was sorta familiar with her own daughter's lock
You know how everyone, regardless of how ugly they are physically or personality wise, has that one person that is obsessed with them? That one individual that would walk on hot coal just to make you happy? That one individual that constantly slips love notes inside your locker when you're not looking because they think it's hella romantic despite the cringeness of it all?Ladies and gentlemen, meet Leslie Jenkins, my not so secret admirer. I hate a lot of things in my life but nothing comes close to my hatred towards Leslie Jenkins. She's a close call between paper cuts and elevator music . I can tolerate alot of pet peeves shoved my way but I won't hesitate to draw the line when it comes to that girl. Maybe she the reason why I stopped liking the idea of dating someone of my age group. Can you blame me though? The girl dips pieces of freid chicken inside her Coca cola drink and slurps it up! I mean, who does that?If I ever had to choose between Leslie Jenkins and Charlotte Dawson
I was looking forward to seeing Amanda this evening for my daily detention, or as I like to call it, our date. As students scurried towards the front doors in lightning speed, you'd think they were being chased by some armed murderer, I prepared myself for our date- I mean, detention. I'm not exaggerating when I say I sprayed on a new coat of body spray for this ocassion , even took my time to glance at a mirror to assess my appearance , maybe appreciate my handsomeness. God , I was such a good looking guy! How would I know this? Well, I'm a level one narcissist so having an inflated ego is one of my chronic illnesses. That and being a self-entitled ass hole. Just as expected , the beautiful Amanda had braced the seat behind her desk, stacks of books piled in front of her dwarfed by them, as she industriously dragged her red pen over the pages ,seemingly marking them. My presence remained unacknowledged as she buried her nose in the endless piles of books . I stood, rooted to the sp
There was a storm outisde. It was raining cats and dogs , with the occasional clapping of thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. This sorta weather is tailor made for snuggling inside a warm comforter ,drinking hot cocoa while binge watching American Horror Story .But instead I'm stuck in school , typing ferrociously at Amanda's laptop , my fingers begging for a break , afraid they'll fall off my knuckles . I'm finishing the nineth slide and that would have been an awesome achievement but I'm not even halfway through the notes on the given notepad. In fact, I haven't even made a dent but my need to impress Amanda was stronger than Thor's hammer as I wiped the sweat that glittered on my upper brow and got down to business. It's quiet. Really quiet, except for the steady sound of my breathing the ticking of the second hand on the clock and the ocassional flipping of a page as she marked books.Looking over the laptop , I notice she's almost done with marking, just a few more books
My third attempt of throwing a pebble from across my bedroom balcony towards Charli's bedroom window proved futile as I watched it fail to knock the window pane. "This is why I always get picked last in gym class," I grumbed, my energy depleting by the second from my lack of throwing skills. I do throw like a girl. The reason why I was chucking pebbles at Charli's bedroom window was so that I could get her attention for us to talk about the whole fake dating thing. I made a vow not to go to school tomorrow not unless I convince Charli to be my fake girlfriend. I can't stand the idea of running into Leslie again and giving her the satisfaction of annoying the living daylights out of me. I was desperate and my solution lied inside Charli. I prayed for the best while prophesying the worst. Another pebble is tossed and as expected, falls a few inches away from her balcony. Maybe I should call her....but I deleted her number a long time ago . So throwing pebbles it is. "Okay,"I try on
Nothing annoys me more than the shrill cry of my morning's alarm. It's even worse when you've already punched the snooze button thrice and all I'm left with is the dreaded task of having to divorce my blankets and step into the crisp mornignair that stung my skin like razor burns. Heavy eyelids refusing to open , momentarily subjecting me to blindness as I staggered through my room in an attempt to locate the light switch , ocassionally knocking furniture with my feet.Even through my closed bedroom door, I could hear Roxie's out of tune singing. Another source of my morning grumpiness and headache.Where's Simon Cowell when you need him? I trailed downstairs , my nose leading me to the kitchen where mom is cooking...something. It smelled good, much to my pleasant surprise. I don't remember the last time that smelled this amazing. "Good morning, Boo bear," Her chirpy voice greeted meas she untied her pink apron before hanging it on one of the hooks nailed on the kitchen wall next to
"Here, hold this,"I was pushed into doing something I never thought I'd be doing ever since my existence was brought to Earth when my mother pushed me out of her vagina. A rose in hand, its petals birthed with the most attractive shade of red , redder than a blushing tomato, I stretched it over for Charli Dawson to behold. A look of disgust penetrated her brooding aura as she regarded me with a disdainful eye, deftly plucking it from my fingers' grasp with tentative fingers. Never in my seventeen years of life have I ever thought that I'd be buying anyone flowers. Especially Charlotte Dawson!"I suppose this should flatter me into believing that you could be a hopeless romantic when pushed to the wall," She sneered and I returned with an eye roll at her shallow , illogical reasoning. I'd made a brief stop at the local gas station to purchase a rose, for Charli. I wouldn't waste a penny on her even if it kills me but I had to make our fake relationship look legit. Besides, it's just f
"What do you have to say for yourself?" Mr. Angerson spoke, hos voice losing its usual institutionalism tone and adopting a measured one filled with rage and disappointment. His dandruff flaked glasses were almost sliding off the bridge of his nose before using his forefinger to push it up in place."I didn't punch her that hard," Was my casual response ,leaning back on the tattered seat , hearing it squeak at the action. My father was on his way after being called from work about the incident that had ensured between Leslie and I and I couldn't have been more annoyed. Why do they always feel the need to involve parents in disciplinary meetings?"You broke her nose," Mr. Angerson informed with a seething look but I failed to see the severity of the situation. So what if I broke her nose, can't she get a nose nob instead? Those things can be fixed. She comes from a long line of wealthy family members, I'm sure her father can afford a decent nose job."Her nose was ugly anyways, I think