Chapter Five:
Ding dong ding dong.
The bell rings to signal the end of P.E., and the beginning of lunch.
Yes!
I head to the locker room to change back into my regular school clothes. I grab my clothes in the bag out of my locker, and head to one of the changing rooms.
Shedding my clothes for the second time today, I got dressed again, stuffing my gym clothes into the bag. I return to my locker, bag in hand, I take my backpack out and open it.
Putting the bag full of my now dirty gym clothes in there. I walk out from the locker room, to the gym, then out the far left double doors. I get out to a large hallway, I walk up the slight ramp to the common area, where all of the lunch tables are set up. I start scanning the area from my small group of friends.
I see them, as I'm walking over to the line of students waiting to get lunch. Joining the quickly moving line, I get to the lunch lady waiting for me to punch in my school number, 23467.
I grab a fat-free chocolate milk, and grab a plastic tray. I head over to the salad bar, and grab a paper dish, putting some shredded lettuce, carrot shavings, small cucumber slices, and a little bit of ranch dressing on top. I grabbed an apple last.
I look up, and see my friend, Angela waving to me in the sea of students. I smile, and wave back. Tray in hand and my backpack on my shoulder, I head over to her.
Greeting my friends "Hey guys" I say with a bright smile.
"Hey Ally" Josh says, seeming a little down.
Picking up on this instantly. Thinking about what happened in gym class.
I hope I didn't let him down too harshly. He just didn't seem like the right guy for me. But he should know I'm not looking for a relationship right now. I can't. I need to focus on my grades and school.
Coming back to reality, I realize I might have been lost in my thoughts a little too long. My table is staring at me silently.
"There she is," Catlyn says with a small laugh at the end.
"Sit," Jackson says, running his hand on my thigh, while pulling out a chair for me.
"Thanks," I say awkwardly, trying not to feel repulsed by his touch.
It doesn't feel right. I'm waiting for the right person.
Josh locks eyes with me, I feel the burning anger from them, then he glances to Jackson, then back to me again.
It's almost as if he's conveying a message to you, you let HIM touch you but not ME.
Something dark flashes in his eyes, I can sense it. Hatred. Looking away, I can't deal with this right now. Jessica looks between me, Josh, and Jackson, clearly confused. I won't give her an explanation. She might use it as some form of gossip later.
The rest of lunch is highly strained. At least for me. I keep seeing the burning anger, hatred, and sadness in Josh's eyes. It looks so painful. But there's mostly hatred, it's unnerving.
The table is mostly silent, Jessica, and some of her more close friends are chatting in their own conversation. I'm not paying attention, nor do I want to. Sometimes the most horrific conversations are with Jessica, and you never want to be in the gossip chain. Once it's there, it stays there. It follows you. It's one of the reasons I joined her group; to stay one step ahead of the gossip queen.
The saying keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer applies to Jessica.
The school bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. Lunch was brutal, filled with the looks and side glances from my supposed group of friends. I have a very strong feeling about Josh.
He's going to try something. Something horrible.
I hope it doesn't come to that. Standing, I get up to dump the contents of my tray in the trash, I head to my next class, horticulture. I quickly rush off, I don't want to be stuck in that again. I reached the classroom in a record time. I grab the door handle and rip the door open. I quickly shove myself inside and find my seat.
I love horticulture, learning about all the plants, seeing life grow before your eyes, it's fascinating. Currently we've been working on beans growing and how different things affect their growth.
I pull out my composition notebook, pen, and my ruler. I write down the date and the words "controlled, varied, and substance". Leaving a space between each word.
I take my measurements of my three bean plants, one with a grow light and water, that's the control. The varied bean plant has only water. And lastly the Substance plant has a grow light and salt water. The controlled bean plant has had the most growth, as expected in my hypothesis, being at 2- inches tall.
The varied bean plant barely has any growth, the dirt is dry as the sahara desert. With it only being 2 centimeters tall. I write all of this down, as it's part of my final grade of the semester. After myself and all of the students finish their work for the day, we all head out to the greenhouse to do some planting for the upcoming yearly plant sale.
After horticulture, it's my last class of the day, history. Mrs. Smithfield is a tough teacher. Strict with grades and attendance. She can be very mean. At least that's how us teenagers view her.
All of our parents absolutely adore her. With her being so strict it "keeps us in line" as my dad says. But honestly she's not too bad. As long as you at least try, and are putting in effort.
I wish more teachers were like her instead of just focusing on only the grades alone. I arrive at history slowly, I'm starting to get tired. But at least it's almost the end of the day. And after school, I can do a little bit of homework, and then go back to my fantasy world held within the world of my books.
I smile thinking about all of the fantasy books I've been reading. I took my assigned seat, the subconscious part of my brain going on autopilot, while the conscious part of my brain was daydreaming.
"Alexandra" The teacher called out. I couldn't give a response. "Alexandra" the teacher called again. Again no response. "Miss Swan," the teacher announced loudly.
I came out of my world when my name got called "present" I announced.
"Miss swan, can you give an answer to this question from the textbook?" Mrs. Smithfield asked.
Pausing and reading the question, luckily I already studied this part of history. I answered the question perfectly.
"Next time Alexandra, please pay attention" Mrs. Smithfield said.
My face heats up in embarrassment. I nod curtly. Once the teacher turns around I put my head in my hands, trying to suppress small giggles.
The rest of class goes by smoothly. I can't daydream for the rest of class, afraid of being called on again. I still chuckle about it. Letting out a small breath of air, attempting to calm my raging laughter that wants to escape my chest. I hear the bell ring, it's the end of school now.
Thank God.