George considers himself to be invisible. He likes it like that. That all changes, however, when his best friend, Nick's crush on Karl intensifies, making him meet a peculiar blond boy. He finds himself loathing the boy for being loud, annoying and...
When I'm in math class, I try to sit in the front row, preferably near the window, so that nobody but the teacher talks to me. Nick wasn't in this class, so there was no point in talking to someone else. If I was lucky, some other quiet kid would sit beside me, most often this boy called Darryl. I guess Darryl was a friend, but we weren't that close to sit together at lunch. We talked in class, and sometimes if I saw him in the hallways. Today, he wasn't in class, so I just hoped no one sat next to me. My silent prayers were not heard, as the chair next to mine scraped against the floor, signalling that someone was in the chair next to me.
"You got a pencil?" Obviously, it was Clay.
"No."
"I think you're lying to me, George." Of course I was lying.
"And what if I was?"
"Then I guess I could just take the one you're using." He reaches for the yellow pencil that's kept on my notebook, but I swat his hand away.
"Must you be so annoying?" I say, as I get another pencil out for him.
"Yeah, it's fun irritating you." He takes the pencil from me, and starts writing in his notebook, despite the teacher not being here. He's doing yesterday's homework. It's a bit of a shock to see him solve each and everyone of those questions flawlessly.
"Try not to look so surprised, will you?" He says, not looking up from the notebook.
"But you don't come to class?"
"And?" I don't answer, still a little muddled as to why Clay, possibly the dumbest boy I've laid my eyes on, was literally acing Math. Maybe it was a bit of prejudice mixed into my feelings, because surely not all of them had straw in their brains. Karl seemed smart. So did Ranboo. But Clay just seemed... stupid.
"I can be good-looking and smart. I'm sure you know that the best out of us."
"Flattery isn't doing anything for you, Dream."
"I'm not trying to flatter you. Just stating the glaringly obvious." He says, somewhat matter-of-factly.
"Shut up." Surprisingly, he did. The teacher, Phil, or what many of the kids called him after finding his Instagram account, Philza, came inside the class. He took a few seconds to settle down, and then started distributing sheets. Tests. Joyful. When Phil reached Clay and I, he smiled a slightly confused smile. I shrugged.
"Good to see you here, Clay." Clay smiled sheepishly. "Anyway, here you are." Phil then went and stood in front of the class.
"You have twenty-five minutes. I'll check your tests after you're done. You may begin." Immediately, I went to solving the questions on the first page. They were appallingly easy, and I didn't really have to use too much brain power. I was done in a matter of minutes, and when I got up to give the sheet to Phil, Clay got up along with me. He seemed smug, which riled me up intensively. We both handed our sheets to him, and waited as he marked them. He was marking Clay's first. Correct, correct, correct. Every answer he wrote was perfect. What the fuck. Phil takes my sheet next, and he's marking the answers. All correct until now. The last answer remained. Wrong. What the fuck. Clay yelled out in happiness. Phil shushed him, telling him to stop bothering the other kids.
"Well done, boys. You can continue with what you were doing 'til everyone else is done." I nodded, retreating to my seat. Stupid test. I didn't notice Clay sidling up to me.
"Looks like you're not the only smart one."
"Please stop talking."
"Aw, Georgie, I was just trying to prove a point. I'll let you win next time." He poked my cheek, and I scowled.
"You don't have to let me win. I'm pretty sure I can do it myself." He smiles menacingly.
"I like the confidence." It's like I'm a child that he's patronising. And I'm not having it.
"Listen here, you absolute moron. You can't just waltz in here and take perfect quizzes and just take my place."
"Are you jealous, George?"
"No." Yes. "Just pissed." Beyond pissed.
"Pissed about someone being better than you?"
"When you put it like that, yes." I may sound like I'm throwing a tantrum. Because I am.
"I can't really help your ego hassles."
"I do not have ego hassles."
"What was this whole conversation then?"
"Do you not have anyone else to talk to? You seem so popular, I bet anyone else would be dying to talk to you."
"Oh, but I don't want to talk to anyone else." His smile only widens, with infuriating dimples forming. "You're a mess, George."
"Whatever." I roll my eyes, and train my gaze on the ruled lines of the notebook. He doesn't talk to me, but he's looking at me. I'm tempted to flip him off, but I don't think Phil would like that very much.
"I know you think I'm cute or whatever, but stop staring." I smirk at his flushed cheeks.
—-------------------------------------------
sapnaptalkstoomuch
bby boy crying cuz he got one wrong on his test
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dreamwastakentomars
he kinda looks like the pretty kid from my math class
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georgenotfound
first and last time ever
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dreamwastakentomars
competitive, are we?
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sapnaptalkstoomuch
yall want to tell me something 😳
A/N: explain to me why i thought making tweets a regular part of this book was a good idea. they're just a fucking pain to make
also i just randomly have a folder full of dsmp memes because of this story
