The halls are disgustingly crowded as I make my way through them, carelessly pushing past people without regard for their feelings. I care about a lot of things; I like dogs. I like root beer. I like Nicki Minaj. I like Orange is the New Black. I don't care about people's feelings. I head into my fourth period class, art history with Mr. Urahara. He was a weirdo, but his class was pretty rad. I'm not much of an artist, but I needed the credit, and in this class I don't actually have to do anything but listen to him talk.
I find my seat in the back of the room next to my best friend, Rukia. She's gossiping with this vapid blonde named Menoly about something irrelevant. Some new kid. I think. I don't know. I just want Mr. Hat & Clogs to hurry up and start class. I want to go home and watch Netflix. Just then the bell rings and a guy walks in eliciting excited whispers all around the room, mostly from our female counterparts. I mean, I can understand why they're so excited; he's fine as hell. Baby blue hair and eyes to match with swarthy, flawless skin. He's quite muscular and clearly over six feet tall. If he turns out to be 6'3", then he's going to have every girl in this school on his tall ass. Panties dropping e'erywhere. The janitors are gonna be getting overtime. Shit.
Mr. Urahara gives him a sideways glance before smiling and gesturing for him to come to his desk. The boy makes his way over to the teacher, and Mr. Urahara talks to him quietly before turning back towards the class.
"Class, this is Grimmjow. He's a new student from California. Be nice. Grimmjow, you can go sit between Ulquiorra and Wonderweiss." Ahh yes, the emo and the blonde kid with the overbite. Guess Grimmjow doesn't have to worry about getting talked to death.
Class goes by without insult or injury, and as soon as the bell rings, the majority of the class jets like they'd all stolen something. Of course, I'm taking my sweet muhhfuckin' time because I'm me and I do what the fuck I want. A group of girls have descended upon Grimmjow like a ravenous murder of crows feasting on a possum carcass. I supposed that he has yet to be informed of the rampant thirst Shawshank-ing its way through this god-forsaken town. Menoly's friend, Loly, and their friends Luppi and Ggio are interrogating the poor guy and he kinda looks like he wants to vomit. Probably because of Luppi's halitosis. I swear to gawd.
"So, like, where are you from?" Loly asks, twirling one of her stupid pigtails. Grimmjow tilts his head to the right, giving her an inquisitive look, which has to be the cutest thing since that one episode of Phineas & Ferb with the alien that only said "meep" until it got that weird ass mustache from the other alien and then it sounded like James Earl Jones. What the hell am I even talking about anymore? Right, how cute Grimmjow looks. Luppi, however, doesn't seem as entertain as I do by Grimmjow's blank stare.
"What is he, retarded or something?" Luppi's ol' bitchass asks. God, I don't like that lil' bastard. I don't even know if they a boy or a girl, they ain't never specify, but boy or girl, I'll beat they little shitty ass. Grimmjow seems to share my sentiment as his face twists in disgust and he stands, gripping the front of Luppi's little twink ass shirt. The small crowd still gathered in the classroom collectively gasps as Grimmjow lifts Luppi into the air by his shirt collar, his features set in a terrifying snarl. Luppi squirms as Grimmjow waves him around in the air like a makeshift flag. "Put me down, you big jerk!" Mr. Urahara finally intervenes but only after snickering behind his hand for a while.
"That's enough, Mr. Jaegerjaquez. Please put Mr. Antenor down." Oh, so he is a boy? I'ma definitely beat his little ass. I don't know when, I don't know where, but it's gonna happen. Just call me Richard Marx 'cause I'll be right here waiting for ya.
I can't deal with this bullshit anymore. I'm not gonna be able to contain myself much longer. I gots to go. I just gots to go. As I'm making my way to the door, Luppi's little bitchass is gonna slide past me, knocking my book bag out of my hand. There it is. There it went right there. He getting his ass beat. My musing are interrupted by a tap on my shoulder; but don't think I forgot Luppi, I'm still coming for that ass. I turn around meeting crystal blue eyes and an apologetic smile. Grimmjow stands with my bag in his hand and I smile back as I take it from him.
"Graciás, muchacho." I'm turning to leave when i hear him say something under his breath. I turn back. "Whom?"
"¿Habla español?"
¿Comó se dice "dafuq" en español?
AN: We hate Luppi ol'bitchass if you couldn't tell...