Here I sit, alone, bored and drawing nonsense on my book. Basically I am bored to death. And why is this? This is because Mr. Swanston is droning on about the 'gratification' we will apparently receive while continuing to study literature at a university level. I roll my eyes, because I am sick of hearing the same thing every lesson, every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. But I don't think that I am the only one who has discontinued their attention from the useless lecture. The bell rings and the sound of stacking books quickly fill's the room. I want to get out of the class and avoid any contact with Mr. Swanston. Unfortunately my plan is quickly executed, with his voice.
"Isabella, can I see you for a moment?" I hear his voice. I sighed a deep sigh and turn on my heels, so much for being saved by the bell. The classroom is completely empty now; there is only him and I.
"You do not seem to like my class" he says, while shuffling through paperwork on his desk. I look at him. Wow. I have to give the guy credit; he can pick up on unspoken teenage social cues, when I personally thought he was a 35 year old man who spent more times alone with books then women.
"What makes you say that, sir?" I reply as sweetly as possible.
He looks up at me, over the rims of his black reading glasses, "You roll your eyes every time I open my mouth." He continues to glare at me. I think he wants to be intimidating, but I feel for the guy, he could not even intimidate a fruit fly.
"Ahhh, no I don't. It's just I feel that I have a qualified understanding of the importance on taking on Literature for further study…" I clap my hands together, like I am praying and begin swaying them back and forth, "…. And I just don't want you to have to feel the need to continuously repeat yourself every…waking….moment." I try to use as serious as possible. I look upon him with a smirk on my face, I had no idea where that came from, I never talk back but I did love the satisfaction that I was gaining when defeating my opponent. However my victory was short lived.
"Well…I think we should sit down and have a discussion on my teaching approach…" "Oh, let's do that…." I cut him off. "…in detention", he says.
He looks at me with a smirk on his face. My jaw drops.
"What for?" I ask, completely baffled.
"Well Miss Swan, I do not think you have a clear understanding of what literature really is, and it would give me great pleasure if I was able to give you a very personal development session for you in that field."
He shuffles through his papers as slowly as possible to find a detention slip; I know he is doing this purposely to get back at me for being a little smartass. He begins filling out the red form.
"See you tomorrow" he sing-songs, handing me the sheet. I snatch the sheet from his hand and do not respond; I begin to slowly shuffle outside, muttering curse words in English and French under my breath and vowing to myself never to speak my mind ever again.
I make my way to my locker; throw the detention slip in my bag, as well as my books. I am fuming with anger that I have lost my appetite, so I close the locker and begin making my way to the 'seat' I sit at everyday in and out. When I turn the corner out of the locker I smack into Savannah, however she does not say anything, I don't even think she saw me. Savannah is everything everybody wants to be. With her Bambi blue eyes and golden hair which sits dead straight along her back and not to mention her typical skinny "good looking" body, see is the envy of every girl at school, everyone that is besides me.
Rosalie suddenly comes into view. Rosalie is my best friend, and I adore her to bits. I have known her for almost twelve years, which seems like a lifetime to me.
"Hey Bella, how you going?" she asks, having her jaw dropping smile plastered across her face.
"Hey Ella…" I respond, "…I am not feeling to good. Swanston gave me an after school", "What?!" she shrieks, "What did you do?" I can tell that she is baffled, just like me.
"I decided that I wanted to be spontaneous, so I said to myself, 'Bella you're in year 11, do something spontaneous. Make the teachers remember you for a lifetime', the next thing I know, he was writing out a form" I shake my head in disappointment, "I will never try and be spontaneous again".
Rosalie looks at me, "You are such a tool" she giggles.
"I know" I say with a silly grin, which by the way is completely a fake smile.
"So what are we doing Friday night?" she asks, bitting into her orange, after a silent pause.
"Umm, don't know. Whatever I guess, just as long as I don't have to keep track of you" I said, looking around the school yard. I hate this school, I really do. Mum and dad gave me the option of going to a semi-private catholic school, I was all up for it, but at the last minute I buckled. I did not want to have to make new friends. Then there would have to be the whole playing a 'silent mute' and spending my final schooling years just praying and hoping that someone will feel sorry for me and then 'save' me from my own self pity. So like I said, I 'bit the bullet' and just went with the flow, I followed the crowd. And now I am stuck at a mediocre public school with everything from sluts to bitches and jocks to geeks, nothing in between.
"You don't ever have to keep track of me, I take care of myself, thank you" she responded, looking a little offended.
"Ah, what about the time you lied to your parents, using me as a decoy and then spending a whole week of school in 'god-knows-where' with 'what's-his-face' and then there is me back here covering your ass" I say getting the tinniest bit frustrated, Rosalie knows that what I am saying is true, but she refuses to accept that she is in the wrong, so I give up.
"Whatever, I am just saying; I don't want to have to act like your mum, 'Kay?" "Alright, alright…relax" she mutters. I shake my head in disbelief and get up to go to the toilets. As I make my way there I am almost decapitated by a soccer ball, attacked by banana peels and knocked to the ground by testosterone controlled guys. When I finally reach the safety of the toilets, I run to the last cubical and lock the door. I did not really need to use the toilet but I just needed to be alone for a little bit.
Ever since I moved to this school I do it all the time. After about two minutes I have had enough, plus the smell was really getting to me, so I unlock the door and make my way out. As I reach the sinks, Savannah and her little groupies are there, reapplying makeup. I do not know whether to push in between them or to just wait until they are finished. I decide to wait. I lean on the white, cold tiles on the back wall and I try to not make any eye contact with the plastics in the mirror.
I begin to wonder if they can see me or am I invisible to them, my question was soon answered. The girls were just about done and when they turned to leave, they did not even take a little glance at me. I took that as being invisible. I shuffled to the sink, too scared to look in the mirror ahead, worrying that I would not see my own reflection. I hear the bell ring for the next class, great more English.
English was so bad. No one read the required text, except for me and Mr. Jon had to point that out to everyone. All I wanted to do at that moment was to dig a hole and bury myself. Then to make matters worse, he made me stand in front of the class and talk about the entire book.
The whole time I was up there, I could feel my face get redder and redder by the second but I could also see that my audience was not interested in what I had to say, which was not anything new to me at this school. When the bell finally went I was the first one out. It was five-past-three which meant I could go home and I was grateful for that. I close my locker door and begin walking home. I always walk home, it is the best part of the day for me because I don't have to talk to anyone or continuously wonder if people can see me. I put some ear phones in my ear and turn my I-pod on full blast.
The whole way I look around, at the homes, the parks and the people who walk past me while the husky voice of James Blunt fills my ears. When I get home I am alone, what bliss. I throw my bag onto floor in front of the door, making a mental note to myself to move it before my parents get home. I walk into the kitchen, my stomach growling for food, making my way to the cupboard. I open it eyeing off for something fattening and sweet, but there is nothing so I go for the chips, salty will have to do.
I shuffle to the lounge and sit on the couch putting my legs up. I flick through the channels to try and distinguish what time it is. All there is kid shows so I estimate it to be at least around four. Stumped on what to do I decide to try and attempt completing some homework, which sounded so tempting. I sigh to myself and collect my bag from the front door. I walk upstairs to my room, humming to myself.
I open the door of the room and I smell the scent of the perfume I sprayed on myself that morning. It's a musky, vanilla scent and I breathe it in. I walk over to my desk, place my bag on top of it and slowly take out all my books. I sit on my chair and pull out all the equipment I need from my bag and get to work.
When I finish it's eleven-thirty. Wow I spent hours up here. Suddenly I hear footsteps climbing the stairs. They are light and dainty; I know immediately that it's mum. The hall light switches on and I can see the ray of light creeping from under my closed door. The door opens quietly and I can see mum's shadow growing across the carpet floor.
"Hey baby, what are you still doing up?" she whispers. I stretch, "Doing homework" I reply through a yawn. Mum nods in understanding, she walks towards me "Good night Bella" she says and leans in to kiss my forehead. She turns to leave but I stop her, I have to give her the detention slip to sign. "Ah mum…." I hesitate, I don't want her to get mad or angry or even worse- disappointed. She turns to look at me, not saying anything, waiting patiently for me to continue talking.
"Can you please sign this" I whisper, pulling out the detention form from under all my books. Mum takes the piece of paper and opens it. I watch her read what Mr. Swanston had written, a grin appears across her face. She looks up at me and chuckles.
"Is this the teacher you don't like?" she asks.
"Yeah" I respond. She places her hand in front of me and beckons for a pen. I hand one to her and she signs the paper.
"You're not mad?" I ask confused at her reaction and she chuckles again. "Don't worry Bella. I use to get into more trouble then this when I was in school. I got suspended because I flashed all the year 8 boys when I was in year 11, I was dared to" she shakes her head in disbelief.
"You have to learn to be spontaneous in your life Bella. If you don't jump now, you never will".
With that she kisses me again on the forehead and turns to leave. I get up and quickly change into my pyjamas and jump into bed. I lie there for what feels like hours, with what my mum said racing through my head. How was I supposed to jump? Will taking that leap of faith change me? Snap me back to my normal self? I do not think that is possible.