From Chex: Really. The tenth chapter already. The way this is progressing, I see this being a very lengthy story. Possibly 30+ chapters. Not sure. Anyway, no point in delaying this any longer. Enjoy chapter 10 in Brick's POV. :)
There's a word for what I'm doing.
In fact there are a lot of words. Stealing. Cheating. Breaking and entering. But really, when a teacher leaves their classroom empty and unlocked with all their precious papers, test answers, and various personal items, what do they expect?
But I wasn't interested in any of those things. And I wasn't about to get caught. Mrs. Carson doesn't come in until the warning bell goes off for first period, I know for a fact. She usually stays in the teacher's lounge until then. Which gives me a good six minutes to do what I came to do. I pushed the door open and immediately went to Mrs. Carson's desk, picking up her clipboard and flipping through several pages until I found the agenda for AP Biology. The very first item happened to be exactly what I needed.
Introduce semester-long project. Assign partners. Allow time for brainstorming.
The rest seemed to be related to this. On the next page I found the list of assigned partners. Clearly Mrs. Carson had thought this through in hopes of getting the best possible results from everyone, pairing the weaker kids with the more adept ones. Which explained why she paired me off with Lewis Beckermhan, a hopeless social and academic disaster. I have yet to find out how he managed to get into an AP class, but I don't really care enough to look into it.
Blossom was paired off with Lili Anderson, a girl widely known for cheating and blowing off assignments, but who gets away with it because her parents donated a crapload of new machines to the computer lab. And even though it wasn't really relevant to what I was doing, I found Bell's partner as well; Lacey McHenry, an average student.
Well, clearly Mrs. Carson's plans weren't going to work for me at all. But I could fix that...
--
"Alright, class! Before I assign partners and the complaints ensue, I'd like to remind you all that this project accounts for about 70% of your final grade. If you don't do it, you'll fail. Miserably." She stopped and smiled at us, seeming pleased when there were no outbursts. Mrs. Carson is a pretty straight-forward teacher. She gives us work. We do it. Case closed. But she doesn't tolerate childish behaviour, unlike most teachers who expect it. At least at some level. This is a high school after all.
"Now then," she continued. "I'm going to call you out in pairs. When I call your names please arrange yourselves so that you're sitting with your partners. But pick a seat and keep it so I can record the new seating chart."
She proceeded to call out names. I glanced over at Blossom. Instead of desks, we have six lab tables arranged in two rows of three that seat four people a table. Blossom was seated at the very front, being the little brown nose she is. I couldn't help but smirk imagining her reaction. Just looking at the set of her shoulders told me she was tense. Clearly she didn't like the thought of working with anyone. Typical.
Mrs. Carson paused from reading out names, frowned, and squinted at her paper. "Lili Anderson and...Lewis Beckermhan?" It came out sounding more like a question than a statement.
"What?" Lili shrieked, the first protester to the partner assignment. Lewis turned around in his seat and grinned at her like a lech. Lili did nothing to hide her shudder. "Please Mrs. Carson, you can't--" Mrs. Carson held up her hand. Standards in this class are set in stone. No extensions on assignments, no turning in incomplete work, and absolutely no partner or group changes. Mrs. Carson's nothing if not consistent, and, just as I predicted, if she thought she'd decided this herself she wasn't about to change her mind for anyone.
"You know the rules, Lili. Now, where was I? Hmm....Bell and Lacey. Carrie and Tony. Jason and Amber. Brick and Blossom. Ma--"
"Excuse me?" Blossom shot out of her seat. "I don't think I heard you correctly."
"Um...you're with Brick, Blossom," Mrs. Carson repeated, sounding completely uncertain.
She started stammering, "I-I can't possibly--"
"Now Blossom, I know you know the rules--"
"But you don't understand! I can't work with him under any conditions." She said forcefully. Her fist clenched at her sides. I snickered. It's not everyday you see Blossom lose her temper, much less talk back to a teacher.
Mrs. Carson narrowed her eyes at her, speaking every bit as forcefully. "Then I suggest you find a way. I do not and will not make exceptions for anyone." Not even you, I could practically hear her thinking by the way her eyes softened when Blossom's shoulders slumped and she heaved a sigh. It's also not everyday a teacher refuses Blossom something.
As Mrs. Carson continued to go through the list, Blossom gathered her things painstakingly slowly. She stood up with her books in her arms and straightened up. Unsurprisingly, she didn't look at me as she made her way over, her eyes fixed on the seat in front of me. She sat down, folded her hands in front of her and stared at me hard, her eyes narrowed slightly.
"I hate this."
I snorted. "Then for the first time in history we agree on something." The only real trick to this was make it seemed like I hated this just as much, which wasn't hard. Just because I'm forced to 'get closer to her' doesn't mean I have to enjoy it. And I sure as hell won't.
"Then I suggest we get this project out of the way as quickly as possible." She pulled out some notes and paper and starting writing God knows what. The class was buzzing with chatter as the brainstorming began. Everyone was settling in, some more easily than others. "And let me make this clear now: I will not be doing all the work."
"Like I'd let you."
Her pen stopped. She looked up and fixed me with that stare again. "Excuse me?"
"I don't exactly trust you with my entire grade, you know. If whether or not I pass this class depends on this project I'll be damned if I leave it in your hands." I crossed my arms and leaned back, waiting to see how she'd take that.
She gritted her teeth. "Are you saying I'm not capable?"
I smirked. "I'm saying I'm more capable."
Her fist clenched around her pen and it cracked, almost snapping in her grip. She immediately dropped it and turned away from me, pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a deep breath. "Look," she practically growled. "this isn't going to get us anywhere fast. I'm not debating with you about this. So lets just decide what we're going to do. We have to do an in-depth analyzation of the genetic structure, life development, growth, and vital systems of an animal. So how about we start simple and pick an animal. And since you're so capable I'm sure you already have tons of ideas."
I shrugged. Naturally, I had an idea that would make anything Blossom, or anyone else in here, thought of seem like F-worthy shit. But there's no reason why I can't have fun irritating her.
"So you've got nothing?"
"Not necessarily. I just figured I'd let you take care of this part since it's damn near impossible to screw up."
She rose from her chair. "Okay, I can't do this."
"Then I suppose we'll add 'Completing a long-term project' to your ever-growing list of inabilities."
"And we'll add 'Being the least bit tolerable' to yours!" Her voice rose up a level and I suppressed the urge to laugh. Really, this is too easy. All it takes to rile her up is the slightest insult to her intelligence. She's so incredibly predictable it's sad, really.
"I knew this wasn't going to work," she continued. "I knew you weren't going to work well with anyone given your obvious social deficiency." She ran a hand halfway through her hair, exasperated. "I just never thought it would end up being my problem."
I ran her words back through my head quickly. Social deficiency? "Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
She blinked at me. Then rolled her eyes as if this was something we both knew I was aware off. "No use pretending Brick. Your social development is...well, nonexistent. Clearly you have an an issue interacting with normal people. It's nothing to be ashamed of I suppose. Lots of people are introverts. I suggest you talk to a psychiatrist or the guidance counselor. I'm sure someone will be able to help you."
I wanted to choke her. I wanted to wrap my hands around her little throat and just block off the words (along with her air supply). Who the hell does she think she is diagnosing me like some damn professional? She doesn't know crap about me. And I have no trouble "interacting with normal people". I just choose not to. It's a waste of time. Her life may revolve around these pathetic townies, but I have better things to do.
Like plan how I'm going to kill them all.
"Did you ever stop to think, Pinky, that maybe it's just you I have a problem interacting with?" I glared at her, hard. It took me a moment to realize that I was standing up as well. I stared down at her, silently daring her to contradict me or insult me again, and at the same time wondering if I shouldn't just kill her now and save myself the trouble of getting to know her.
Even though I towered a good five or six inches over her, she glared back up at me. Unfazed. "I don't doubt that. But I've never done anything to you." My eyes flashed and she held up her hand before I could even open my mouth. I wanted to break every single one of her pink-polished fingers. Slowly. "And before you go off, you hated me before you even knew my name, Brick. You. Have. Social. Problems." She enunciated each word slowly, like I wouldn't be able to understand her otherwise.
I do NOT have social problems. Idiots like Lewis, who trip over their own feet and spend free period getting shot down by every breathing female within the school, have social problems. People who flip off the handle over every damn thing someone says (aka Buttercup) have social problems. Blossom's legion of nerd fans, who'd sell their limbs just to touch her for five seconds, have social problems.
I do NOT have social problems.
In fact, my only current problem is her.
We glared at each other and I was seriously considering just reaching over, snapping her neck, and shutting her irritatingly big mouth up forever. She was right in front of me...
"I think they're gonna kiss."
I'm almost sure Blossom and I blinked the same time because when my eyes opened hers were no longer narrowed. I looked down and notice that both my hands were placed down on top of the table and I was leaning towards her slightly. She was in the same position. Everyone was staring. I moved back, slightly disgusted at being that close to her, and she turned her glare on her white-haired her sister, who flashed her a thumbs up.
"Not funny Bell."
Bell shrugged innocently while her partner Lacey giggled.
The bell rang.
Blossom swept up her things and flounced out of the room, throwing the door open so hard one of the hinges broke off. Either she didn't notice or she didn't care because she kept going. I left last, allowing as much space to get between us as physically possible. Which was a futile effort at best since we had next period together as well.
As I went out the door, I could hear Mrs. Carson muttering behind me:
"What the heck was I thinking putting those two together?"
--
The next two classes before lunch were the most irritating hours of my life. I can now say, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Blossom is The most stuck-up, conceited bitch to ever walk the face of the Earth. If I have a so-called social deficiency (which I don't), then she's got a serious self-complex. I think she'd date herself if that weren't the creepiest, most pathetic thing in the world.
I get pissed off just watching her in class, with that smug little smile whenever she answers a question, like she knows everything in the whole damn world and is about to bless every single one of us with the answer to one of life's mysteries. I swear I've seen hot air balloons that are only half the size of her head. Not to mention the look she shoots me every time I answer a question, like she's the only one allowed to be right. Please. I wouldn't be surprised if she was keeping score. In fact, judging by the way she just scowled at me, she's aware that I'm winning 8 to 6.
This is going to be the most hellish assignment ever. In fact, with the way she stares at me, like I'm so far beneath her, one of us may not survive it.
But I can't be the worst off. Boomer may be okay...for now. But Butch must be living in Hell's basement. Blossom may be an annoying bitch, but she's not a violent, annoying bitch. And for that one minuscule difference, I'm almost grateful.
She hasn't said another word to me about the project, but I can't say I'm upset about that. I don't think at this point I could handle having an actual conversation with her without ripping her hair out by the roots and strangling her with it. And God that thought it so damn tempting...
But that would be a waste of perfectly good angry energy. And I'll need that for my trip later.
From Chex: It seems I'm having a problem keeping up my wpc quota. I apologize for the shortness and again for the lateness. I was a bit tapped for this chapter. This is Brick and Blossom's first interaction in the story, so I hope I played it right. Naturally, they can't stand each other. But be patient for developments. Next chapter is back to Bell. As always, feedback is encouraged.