I'll try to make this one longer.
Michelangelo looked out the huge window that looked onto the courtyard, looking for that sweet Michelle girl he had met this morning. She was a smart chica, just a little lost. Mike had forgotten to tell her where to find the English classroom, so he was just standing there, waiting to be found by her.
"Mike!" he heard a voice call. There was Michelle.
"Hey, chica!" he called back. She ran the rest of the way over to him.
"How was study hall?"
"Ehh. It was okay. Nothing to do – but I finished the history homework – what?" Mike was laughing.
"Honey, no one ever goes to the library for study hall. Everyone goes off campus or something…" Michelle looked devastated. He stopped laughing, and comforted her. "Chica… don't sweat it. It's your first day here – you don't know much about anything. I'll show you over the weekend. Okay?"
"Si." She sniffed.
"Now let's get to class." Michelle cleaned her face up, put on a smile, and walked into the classroom.
The teacher smiled when she saw Mike. "Welcome back, Mike. Going to pass this time?" Mike gave an angelic little smile and replied "Of course!" The teacher rolled her eyes knowingly. Mike gave a little bow and skipped over to his seat as the rest of the class filed in.
"Alright, class." The teacher commanded their attention. "My name is Mrs. Stou. And I am sorry to say… I have a seating chart for you." The class groaned. Michelle especially. She only knew one person in this class, and wanted to be seated next to him. Mrs. Stou went through all the names, pointing to seats.
"Marquez!" she pointed to a seat in the very middle. There was no one she knew near her, as Mike was all the way in the corner. To her left was a boy in her history class. She never got around to learning his first name, but she heard from Mrs. Stou that his last name was Azure. She turned and smiled at him, but he quickly shunned her, and turned to flirt with the girl on his other side. Once more, Michelle was rejected for not being there before all this.
She tried to turn to the other side, talk to the girl there, but she was already asleep and the class hadn't even started. The girl behind her passed a not over Michelle's shoulder.
Don't expect all of us to be nice like that fag in the corner. Be careful, he might rub off on you. You're better off with people like me – you have potential to be me.
Michelle turned around. There sat a girl barely in any clothes. She was wearing a low-cut pastel pink tube top that was cut at a diagonal from the middle of her right ribs (right where her bra ended) to her left hip. A jean miniskirt that barely covered her butt was stretched across her hips. No, I don't think so. Thought Michelle. I could never be a slut like her. She'll probably end up a stripper. That's no way to make a living.
I kind of love this chapter. Especially because as I wrote the last part, I was listening to Out Tonight.