Cliche

Book Hugging

The first week of classes was normal. Conner was busy writing two short stories at the same time and Alex was busy with additional extra classes. 

The writing workshop went by pretty well. Conner (and Alex) learned about the hero's journey and tons of other structures of writing. Not to mention Conner was becoming an exceptional writer and student passing his (English) tests and turning in homework on time. The week wasn't as stressful as anticipated at all. 

Friday morning though went a little downhill (well, at least for Conner). He was dreaming about Red and Goldilocks having a war and having to pick a side (the usual) when he heard beeping. Conner thought it was a bomb timer going off so he ran from where he was. But the beeping sounded familiar, it was a sound he heard every morning. He opened his eyes to hear the alarm clock ear raping him and flashing the time: 7: 45. 

Conner chose a random hoodie and a pair of jeans, bolted downstairs completely forgetting to brush his teeth, and grabbed his backpack from the entry hall. 

"Where are you going without breakfast?" Charlotte Bailey asked her son. She was on leave from work that day and was cooking blue pancakes in the tiny kitchen. "Go have some toast before you leave!" 

Conner bolted back to the kitchen, grabbed a wheat bread sandwich, a glass full of orange juice, and left the house. 

He was running late, classes started at eight. His sister Alex just left a few minutes ago from what he could tell, and here he was, eating breakfast while running to school. 

Almost being run over by busses and cars, falling to a trash can, and nearly knocking over many commuters, Conner finally arrived at school. He sprinted inside. 

Did I mention that the glass full of orange juice he was holding didn't have a cover? 

Oh well....

Conner arrived just in time for his first class, English. But a person was walking to the class too. Conner tried to slow down to a little but his legs wouldn't stop running continuously until...

He crashed on the person. And that person was... Britney White. 

Yes, Britney. (Not Bree, Bree-tney.) 

The orange juice spilled out of the glass and shattered on the ground. The orange juice inside stained Britney White's white skirt. 

"YOU SON OF A MO-!" Britney shouted, she was fuming. 

"What is this drama-?" Mrs. York said as she went out to see the problem. 

"Bailey over here spilled his orange juice on me!" Britney said angrily as if she was imprisoned for something she didn't do. 

"Bailey, what is this?" Mrs. York said. Like so many others, Mrs. York didn't like children similar to Britney. 

"I-" Conner tried to explain. "It was... an accident. I was running late for school and started to run then I bumped to her. I tried to stop running but it was too late-" 

"White," Mrs. York said though eyeing on Conner. "Change to your gym shorts instead. Bailey, I will expect you to be punctual next time. 5 points will be deducted from your grade. If you do any sort of activity like this again, I will deduct 50 points from you. Now get inside." 

Sighing, Conner dragged his tired legs to the classroom. His legs were actually shaking. It had been a while since he ran like that. 

Most of the class was laughing at him. But a couple of others looked sympathetically at Conner. Bree was one of them. 

"Silence," Mrs. York ordered her class. "Turn to page 394." 

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