Enjoy.
Blah blah-fucking-blah –That's all I can hear or all I want to hear- I cock my head up when Miss, Peters calls my name. Everyone's staring at me and by everyone I literally mean everyone.
"Is there any reason as to why you don't feel like you should participate in this lesson" Yup, there is a reason miss. Care to fucking know? It's none of your freaking business.
But I don't say that. People would probably look at me as if I'm crazy or that I'm 'trying to hard' because that 'weird girl' doesn't speak back to the freaking teacher in fact she doesn't talk at all.
"No miss, there's no reason" I bow my head starting to get slightly paranoid about all the heads that seemed to be faced my way and all the freaking eyes that seem to be piercing through me. Do they have to look right at me? I don't even blink in their direction when they're getting their shit pulled out of them.
Fucktards.
"Ok, good to know. Now class please copy what's written on the board into your books then you can pack up" I hear all the people around me moan and start asking the teacher if they could just print the shit out. I feel the same way but I don't do anything; I just hurry up and write because the faster I write the faster I can get out of here. Behind me I hear Rachel giggling at something a boy said and all I can do is roll my eyes.
Rachel never used to giggle before she just ignored the person next to her or just shot back a message. I use to admire the hell out of her. The way she had the confidence to do anything or the way she use to hang around with me when we both knew that she could do a whole lot better. So it wasn't a shock when she first called quits on one of our movie nights to go out with her 'other friends' or when she first walked past me like she never knew me at all, but for some reason it doesn't bother me because I don't want to be the person pulling her down. I don't want to be the person trailing behind her pulling on to her ankles. She deserves better.
I rush my writing and slant it so I can write quicker as I start hearing people pack up. I don't finish my sentence and I'm not even sure I can even read my writing but right now I don't care. All I care about is getting out of this room before the rush starts or before Rachel and her 'friends' gather up in the middle of the class room.
I don't get lunch. Don't like being pushed around, and when people push in I don't have the guts to say anything to them and that just makes me feel like shit because instead of staring at the back of their heads and swearing at them in my mind I could just be face to face to them and be swearing at them with my mouth actually moving.
So I just go to the table where Glenda's sitting eating her packed lunch. We don't really talk; just sit with each other during lunch. It's weird because I don't actually think I've spoken more than 20 or less words to before. Just the usual a smile; which I guess doesn't count as a word, just a friendly gesture. We share looks, the looks say it all. There's no name for our weird friendly bond that you can label us with because we're not best friends. We're not even friends that just say 'hi' when you walk past them in the corridor.
Were both just two tortured teens who just don't want to eat on a dinner table by ourselves.
So I set my bag down on the table. Unzip my bag. Sit down and then start eating. Glenda doesn't even look up to acknowledge if it's me. Probably wasn't even expecting anyone else to come.
As I take a bite out of my self-made cheese and cress sandwich with no crusts I relish the taste of the cheese as it blends in with the margarine and lick my upper lip to brush (in a weird way) away the crumbles of the bread that stayed attached to my lip.
Just how my mum made it.
Just how I like it.
I look up curious to see what Glenda packed for herself today and just catch her as she takes a bite of her baguette. She offers me a sad smile, which I return.
I then look around me and spot Rachel coming out of the line with a tray full of food in her hand, laughing when Peyton tries to steal her apple I then look back to my table and watch as Glenda takes another bite of her baguette.
Ever heard the phrase 'Karma's a bitch'? Yeah, well it's not true.
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