So Let's Get Schooled
Just a little something I came up with, inspired heavily by a story I read in an Ares Slash siteHey, I'm a chick who likes boys who likes boys. So sue me, alreadyAnywho, I decided to try my own version, starring our own very, very favorite Bad Boy Himself, Freddy. This is also an apology for my other series', for which my inspiration dwindles as my health declines. My Muse comes in short bursts these days, and all the lovely ideas swirling in my head tend not to last until I'm feeling well enough to put fingers to keyboard, or pen to paper. So, all my loving, lovely fans, I'm sorry. Please forgive me, accept this humble story in its stead, and pray for me. This is my last pure passion remaining, and I ache to please you guys, who've written me and stuck with me and given me ideas and direction for my chapters. Your help and dedication have been far, far more rewarding than getting paid, since I'm not established and you don't have to read. So, King, Rice, et al: Bite Me :)
This freaking bites, Jamie Adams thought grogily. Who the hell cared what a tense and a comma and a friggin clause had to do with real life? Jamie ached with the effort of staying awake as the idiot teacher droned on and on aimlessly. The only thing keeping him from succumbing to sleep's spell was the fact that he snored(loudly), an activity that would not only awaken the teacher's ire, but would make his buddies tease him the rest of the year--not to mention wreck his chances of getting a date. So he struggled to stay awake.
It wasn't an easy task; the day had started out unseasonably warm and sunny for late March, a clear reminder that summer was marching gleefully toward Springwood. No more teachers, no more books...Jamie hummed his favorite song a bit under his breath as he looked out the window. The heater in the classroom had been turned off and the window actually opened, and the warm, clean air that wafted through the window lulled the class, made them ache to be outside, at the pool, at the park, anywhere but here, as the saying went. Jamie thought of his annual trip to Florida with his family; summer sun, tanning, watching the babes while he played football or volleyball or worked out or swam. That led him to another thought: his major, sports, and his minor, art, lunch, and girls, respectively. Where did English figure into any of his interests or plans for the future? He definately wouldn't need English if that football scholarship came through. Even if it didn't, his back-up passion, art, wouldn't need much in the way of English, either. Everyone knew that cartoonists had people to read their shit and correct any errors. And even if some bad grammar did slip through, he drew anime anyway. He could always add to his mystique by claiming he wasn't entirely American. Chicks dug that shit. And all this brought him back to his original thought.
He. Fucking. Hated. English.
The teacher was just as hideous. This blew. Jamie blew out a frustrated breath and tipped his head backward, cracking his neck slowly. The swirling patterns of sunlight dancing off the ceiling caught his bleary gaze and caught; his head tipped backward further and his eyes closed. He heard a soft, almost sinister laugh closeby and his last concious thought was wonder what the hell Brian found that's so funny. He didn't ponder long though. His eyes sealed shut and he thought no more.
And so class begun.