I need to update my other stories and I start something new. So, sue me.

This is totally based off my experiences in Highschool P.E. It's hellish, but it is such good insireation!

R&R

You hated going to school. School was the ban of your existance. You wanted nothing more than to take a bazooka, aim it at the entrance, and blow the entire place to bits while laughing and dancing next to the flames.

And why did you hate school? Why, because of the dreadful class of Physical Education. AKA, P.E.

It's not that you hated exorcising or having to run (that was actually pretty fun), you simply hated the people in the class. More specifically, A certain country. America.

The boy, who obviously had a crush on you, was so handsy, you'd leave class every day feeling jumpy and paranoid about anyone being in (or within a ten-foot radious) your oversized personal bubble. And the worst part? You were starting to like the attention. Now, not only was he harassing you, he was stealing your morals. This was definatly going to have to end.

You sighed as you took your spot in the gym, sitting on the floor and counting away the secounds until you could leave.

"What's wrong [Name]?" You didn't even have to bother turning to see who it was that adressed you.

Out of all the fourty , some-odd students who were in your class, there were only about eight girls. And really, only you and Hungary bothered to show up.

"You know what's wrong." It was rather true. Anyone who met you could read you like a book.

Hungary could only laugh and pat your back. "Oh, it'll be ok, [Name]! Maybe America won't eve-"

"[Name]!" Said country suddenly cheered, pouncing you from behind. You gave a squeak of suprise and tumbled forward with America still clutching on to you. Your cheeks burned pink at the sound of the guys laughter.

"Ne, America, don't you think you should wait for a more romantic moment? This is so low-class!"

"Haha! That was so unawesome! You gotta at least get the braud nice'n drunk first!"

"You stupid git!" You felt England pull America off you. "If you want to fuck your girlfriend, at least go to the locker rooms!"

You sucked in a shocked breath and immediatly pushed yourself off the ground. This was going too far. This... situation was way out of hand.

"Hey [Name]! Wait up for me!" You, being totally embrassed, rushed to the exit. America, being the stubborn idiot, grabbed the back of your shirt in a death grip.

And, in situations you use to make fun of fr being so cliche, your shirt ripped. In front of the entire class.

Oh, that was it. You were so going to kill america.