Immortals

Chapter One: Immortals

RIIIINNNNGGG

A new year, a new start. 

Life was okay-ish for Laurence Spender. It was another year of work at Pennyweather High School, in the rural town of Pennyweather. Pennyweather wasn't much. The only thing it had going for it was the haunted house in the outskirts. Apparently this old ghost lived there. But we aren't hear to talk about the haunted house. We're hear to talk about Laurence Spender. 

So, imagine White Jesus without a beard and wearing a sweater vest not even an octogenarian would wear. Oh, don't forget the beige trousers. That's Laurence. He's about thirty-five, maybe thirty-six. He carried with him an ugly leather briefcase, signalling that he had a fancy job. Well, by Pennyweather standards. Being a high school teacher was the most well-paid job in town. All the doctors and lawyers lived in the next town over, Walkley. Walkley was also small, but nowhere near the crapsack that was Pennyweather. 

He leisurely strolled down the parking lot of Pennyweather High, oblivious to the overtly sexual teenagers making out in their cars. Cigarette butts laid all over the place like dead fish from a tornado, whatever that means. At the corner of his eye, he saw a group of beefed up jocks towering around a cowardly, shivering boy, wearing the top fashion money could buy, near the rubbish skip. 

"Konnichiwa, Mr Spencer!" the main jock, Zayn Malik, called out, snickering. He was the least muscly of all the jocks. He was skinny and scrawny, and was Pakistani. His hair was dyed a Sodastream Green shade, and was in a buzzcut. 

"Ohaiyou gozaimasu!" Laurence replied, overly cheerful. As he walked away, the group of beefcake jocks circled around the boy, dauntingly. 

"Wait! Can I take off my jumper first? It's Versace." the boy squealed. Zayn rolled his eyes. 

"Hurry the fuck up." Zayn slurred in his barely understandable British accent. The boy took off his expensive jumper. 

"Can we dump him now?" another jock complained. Zayn gave him the A-OK sign. They picked up the boy, and tossed him in the bin as if he were some lightweight baggage. He felt like a feather in their hands. The boy's name was Louis Tomlinson. 

A white, pale, muscly boy arrived from the corner, with a blank, neutral expression on his face. He wore a red and white varsity jacked with the letter "L" embroidered on the pocket. Zayn rushed over to him, leaving Louis in the trash. Zayn gave him a bear hug, and squeezed him so tight he could barely breathe. That was Liam Payne, the star quarterback. 

"Payno! Long time no see!" Zayn squealed, jumping for joy.

"Uh, we saw each other yesterday. At McDonald's, remember? We spent the entire summer together." 

Zayn realised, and nervously sighed. Louis whimpered from inside the rubbish bin.

"Oh man! It stinks like shit in here!" Louis whined. 

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, PRINCESS!" Zayn shouted, annoyed. Liam stared at him, confused. 

"Uh... is someone in there?" Liam asked, puzzled.

"Come on, man! It's not like it's anyone important! It's just Lucas Burlinson!" 

"Louis Tomlinson!" 

"SHUT THE FUCK UP,  FAGGOT!" 

"I thought we agreed to never use that word..." Liam sighed, disappointed.

"Come on, Liam. It's just a word." 

"LIAM!" a girly, high pitched female voice squawked with excitement. Liam turned around to see a beautiful, skinny blonde girl with dirty blonde hair and mesmerising hazel eyes. She had a smile showing off her painfully white teeth, and her hair in a messy bun. She wore a cheerleading outfit with the initials PHS shown on her chest. That was Ashlynn Irwin, the head cheerleader.