Fast Friends - Frank Iero

Part 3

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," I muttered as I ran through the school courtyard in the pouring rain. Once again, I had slept through my alarm and was rushing to get to class. Already fifteen minutes into first period, I stopped at my locker and grabbed my books. Wet shoes squeaking down the hallway, I arrived at history class almost twenty minutes late.

After bursting through the doorway with dripping wet hair, I began apologizing for my tardiness immediately. Unfazed, my old hag of a history teacher, Mrs Tigchelaar, began her rant of doom.

"Miss Oldstrom, you have been late sequentially for the past two weeks. How do you expect to learn anything in this class when you miss large portions of my lessons on a regular basis?"

Not allowing me to answer, she continued on, her wrinkly cheeks jiggling with every consonant.

"It is unacceptable for you to be constantly late. I've heard your many excuses, and I'm tired of them. You being late doesn't only affect you, it also distracts the rest of the students in this class when you barge into the room in the middle of my lesson. Completely unacceptable."

She shook her head disapprovingly.

"I don't enjoy doing this, but I am going to have to put you in detention after school today. Hopefully you'll learn your lesson that way. Now get to your seat, open your book, we're reading about the Napoleonic Era, chapter three."

Whoop-de-fucking-hoo. Napoleon and detention. What a great way to start the day.

I sighed, flipped my book open, and pretended to listen to Mrs Tigchelaar's never-ending, monotonous, droning voice. I hate history. Like knowing when the French peasants stormed Bastille is going to help me in real life.

I flipped open my planner, and looked at my schedule. I hadn't quite memorized this year's classes yet, so I needed constant reminders. I had biology next.

I smiled to myself. Biology was a welcome surprise after a stressful morning, because guess who's in that class?
Frank.