The class bursts into laughter. A real comedian, this one. Great.Encourage him, that’s exactly what he needs.
I look behind and see a girl glued to him, looking at him all googly-eyed, their desks dangerously close. I then look at him, and he looks atmeand winks.
An ironic smile takes control of my lips, and I flip him off.
“And Ms. Brown would also like her credits to be taken.” Mr. Lace says, with an evil grin on his face.
“Oh no.” I sarcastically say, without even a hint of emotion.
I’m sick of him. I never did anything to him, and he picked on me ever since day one. Somebody talked, Ms. Brown’s fault; somebodydied, Ms. Brown’s fault.Honestly.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Brown, but you will have to talk louder.”
Oh,nowhe wants me to talk.
“I said, it appears that Mr. Lance needs to get his stick out of his ass.”
Is what I could have said, but I’m too scared to do so.
And fortunately for me, I didn’t even need to say anything to Mr. Lace because things went badly anyway. Why? I just had the unfortunate luck of West being born. He threw small paper balls at my hair for the rest of class, and when I finally did turn around and told him to stop, Mr. Lace…
4
So I Punched A Guy In The Face
Jake
It had been a pleasant day. The sun was shining, classes were ending for one glorious summer break, and I was in a good mood going into the last practice of my Junior year. Went to practice,nailed it, talked with my bestest of friends about them coming to my summer house, and they agreed.
Until that fuckface known as Blade Topper waltzed like a little bitch into the locker room.
Who is even called Blade? What a weirdass name.
Madelaine’s name comes up, and my ears immediately perk up at that. Riden grins at me, but I couldn’t care less. I’m trying to listen to this conversation.
“What about you? You went out with her, didn’t you?” Nick asks Blade, who grins that stupid, pathetic grin, and I breathe calmly.
“Yeah, but the girlfriend found out.” And then he laughs.What a dumbass. “Before I could even feel her up.”
I throw my clothes and immediately turn around, coming close to him.
“What?” I question, really, as if I’m asking to reconsider his words.
“Easy, bulldog, it’s the truth. It’s not as if yourgirlfriendwould have let me, god knows she probably bites people who try to touch her.”
“How about you shut up before I do something I won’t regret?” I level him with a passive-aggressive smile, inviting him to test me.
“C’mon, man, everybody knows her mom left her, that prissy has so many issues it wouldn’t really work out, I was just expecting some reward, you know.”
“Oh no…” Graham mutters beside me, and I snap.
I lunge towards him, grab him by the collar, and throw his body against the wall.
“Say that again. I dare you, and you’ll never be able to play in that field again.” I slam him against the wall again, and his eyes flash concern. He puts his hands up in surrender, and just as he thinks he can relax, I punch him just for the message to, you know,sink in.
“Don’t ever talk about shit you don’t know. And her.Especially her.”
BecauseI know. I was there when her cowardly mom left her, and she tried to chase her down the road. My mom had to help her with her first period, which isn’t bad, except she’s not her mother. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. She can’t even wear her natural hair or makeup becauseI knowshe can’t bear to looklike her mother at all. Because they’re exactly alike. She’s her younger twin, and I can see it pains her. I also kept an eye out for her on Mother’s Day, her longing glances at every other kid, at my mom and me, how she would disappear and run away so no one could notice her.
