So, this actually appeared when I finished my little dabble (Good Grades) in my on going of short stories called 'Nothing but Life'. I tried sleeping and the idea would not go away. D:
So...this was born. It'll be a small ficlet, maybe only three to five chapters long.
Side note: Written in Lavi's P.O.V. And Allen with braces? OH SHI-
Warnings: Use of offense language...because that's what teenagers do.
It was a Monday. Nothing real special about it. Every other teenager tired because they stayed up until the wee hours of the morning doing whatever shit they usually do. Playing WoW because they really have no life, doing drugs to get away from life, sex because it's sex. Maybe studying because they're nerds.
You see, I'm one of the cool people. Playing my C.O.D on my lovely xbox, drinking nothing but delicious Mt. Dew to stay up. Wildberry poptarts for snacks, because they are the shit. Laptop blasting music loud enough to shake everything and forever ruining my hearing.
Gotta love Disturb, Five Finger Death Punch, Alice Copper, and Lady Gaga. I don't care what anyone says, Lady Gaga is the shit and forever will be.
Only woman with enough balls to do what she does. I fucking love her.
As of now, I am currently listening to one of her songs 'Monster' (hmm...reminds me of Skillet) while the teacher goes on about Gorge Orwell's Animal Farm. Now, that's not to say I didn't like the book. I found it fascinating how he practically mocked Russian Communism at the time and all the symbolism used. That's the thing though, I already the book. Not too keen on reading books again no matter how much I like them. Besides I remember most of what I read anyway.
The teacher turns her back and I found in the perfect opportunity to switch from Lady Gaga to Wheatus "Teenage Dirtbag." I love my baggy hoodies. They're perfect to hide my headphone's cord. All I have to so his stick them under my hoodie, put them through the arm sleeve and lean on my hand.
Ta da! Music.
I tilted my head up a bit when the sound of the door handle jiggled, singling that the door was locked. My eyes faced the chalkboard when the teacher walked to the door; out of my peripheral vision I can see the teacher holding a green slip and a unfamiliar person by the door frame.
"I see, well Allen sit in an empty desk somewhere. Right now we're discussing Animal Farm. I'll give you the work you need to catch up when class is over." Mrs. Bachelor said to...this Allen. Who nodded and went to seat in the row in front of me, and took the seat to the left.
Bleached white hair, an awesome scar...tattoo thing over his eye, baby blue vest and a long sleeve button shirt underneath, kakki's cutting at his knees, black slip on converse with red laces. To top it off, gloves and a black messenger bag.
The kid looks like a preppy fag. Which, now that I think about it putting 'preppy' and 'fag' in the same sentence sounds like an oxymoron.
I have to talk to this kid. Like, seriously. I'll stalk him at lunch.
"If I can politely ask, why are you watching me?" Allen asked as he dug into his lunch box. The thing seemed to hold a never ending amount of food.
Ever since the faithful time he showed up in my second hour class, I literally watched everything he did because I had nothing better do. I learned that Allen is a total book worm (not as big as me of course) who enjoys the wonderful works of Stephen King. Allen earned some brownie point there. He's prepared and slightly mature for his age with how his posture is. Even listens in class, the nerd.
And so far, he has only talked to a few people. Lenalee who was in our English class, and Kanda who shared a locker by him. That conversation didn't go so well, with insults, cussing, threats and such. It fucking entertaining though. Now, he is currently talking to me because I followed him to the lunch table.
"Because I can." I answered his question while my mouth was full with pizza. Yum, nothing like school pizza.
Allen's pretty face curled up in disgust, obviously not liking my lack of manners. Well the punk is gonna have to get use to it. Who the hell has manners in his day and age? "Stop it. All the staring is creepy."
He's blunt too, I like.
I drank my milk from the carton before crushing the empty thing and set it back down on the foam plate. I smiled big at him, my teeth showing. "Yanno, now that you've said it's creepy I'm gonna do it all the time now. Just to give you that creepy feeling."
Allen clicked his tongue and holy shit, the kid has braces. That's pretty fucking cute. "Oh, don't I feel so special." Sarcastic too. We'll be getting along great this school year.
"You better babe. It's a privilege to have someone sexy as yours truly eye goggle you during class." I said, my hand mention to my body.
Allen snorted, amused. "Whatever, ginger. I have seen better. And don't call me babe."
Well doesn't that just crush the ego. "Aw, don't say hurtful things like that my adorable faglet. I'm the sexiest thing your eyes have ever seen."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that." Allen said taking a big bite out of his sub. Honestly, I love how he payed no mind to my insult.
"Don't worry, I will."