It's third period the next day at school and we've got a supply teacher for Calculus. And you know what having a supply teacher means, an exciting period of copying out from a textbook of course. And this time, I've been chosen as the unlucky soul who has to go collect the wretched textbooks we're going to be using for the next hour.
I'm currently cursing out Mr Lane the supply teacher in the back of my mind for having picked on me as I make my way down the stairs. Not only do I have to lug all the books back at some point but I'm also currently being led on what feels like some sort of wild goose chase.
Well okay, that's a slight exaggeration. But still, I had gone to the classroom Mr Lane had told me to go only to find out they had moved some of the department's books downstairs into a drama classroom's storeroom- and well I'm not exactly a happy bunny at the moment to say the least.
If there's one thing I despise, it's having attention on me. And you just know that when someone knocks on the door to interrupt a lesson that everyone and their mother will start staring. And that's what had just happened now with the teacher upstairs a minute ago. And while this may not seem like a big deal to some people, the whole thing really makes me want to cringe out of embarrassment. I mean, my cheeks are still slightly pink now a few moments later as I hop down the last few steps onto the ground floor.
I'm hoping that the classroom I was directed to and thus am now on my way to will be empty, I can't think of anything worse than having to haul out 30 odd textbooks from the inside of a closet in the middle of a lesson. Holding my breath as I approach the room, I soon let out a small sigh of relief when I peek in through the door's glass pane to see it is in fact empty.
Stepping into the classroom, I take a quick second to look around and inspect the room. But there's nothing really interesting to have a nosey around at except for a little makeshift stage, a mirror, some chairs and various props lying around in boxes- as expected of a drama classroom I guess.
My eyes soon settle on the half open door of the closet I'm looking for which is in a odd location and situated around the corner bend from the door. Shrugging my shoulders, I drag my feet over to the cramped space and begin silently searching through the shelves for the title I'm looking for.
Quietly humming under my breath, I soon find it and realise to my dismay, that it's quite a hefty textbook. I'm definitely going to have to get someone to help me, I think to myself as I stare at the big pile of books. For now though I decide to just take as much as I can carry back to the classroom before I hopefully come back with some reinforcements.
I've only just plucked the first book off the pile and into my arms when I hear the croaking sound of the classroom door opening. I freeze in my position, eyes widening at the unexpected interruption. Before my erratic mind can start racing and conjuring up all sorts of possible hypothetical situations though, I'm rolling my eyes a second later when I hear the shuffling noise of what sounds to be like two people now in the room with me as well as a feminine giggle.
'Hey, be a little more gentle with me will you?' I hear the distinct sound of Daphne's shrilly voice ring out.
Oh, hell no, I think. There's no way I'm going to stay and let my poor ears fall victim to one of Daphne Carlson's hookups. In my eyes, that'd be like voluntarily signing myself up to be scarred for the rest of my life.
Before I can bustle out of the closet in a rush to push past them and get out of here however, I swiftly change my mind when the low and indistinguishable murmur of Daphne's male companion fills my ears and I quickly realise that that's Jasper's voice I'm hearing. I immediately scrunch my eyebrows in confusion at the unexpected revelation, not at all having expected Jasper of all people to be here with her. I mean why would Jasper even want to be here in an empty classroom alone with Daphne? I can't think of a single reason on the spot but it doesn't matter, because now that I'm aware of this seemingly secretive meeting- I'm dead set on finding out exactly what they're up to.
YOU ARE READING
| torn up
Teen Fiction'A scared little girl, that's you, Willow. That's all you've ever been and all you ever will be, do you understand?' He spits venomously, getting so close to me that all I can see and hear is him, all I can feel is him and I hate it. I try my harde...
