Run Away; C.R

(eleven)

chandler:

if i were ever asked to make a list of things that cause the most of misery to ones life, without a doubt school would be number one on that list. the teacher blabs on and on and on about stupid, pointless shit that happened in our country decades ago. my eyes don't leave the constantly, aching slow, ticking clock nailed into the wall as i count down the seconds until the bell. i want to get out of here, because for once i am utterly excited for the weather forecast of tonight. the app on my phone says to expect a snow storm, which is totally and completely ironic considering, one- it rarely snows here, and two- riley and i just recently had a lovely conversation about how much she adores the snow.

my teachers shoots me a disapproving glare for so obviously not paying attention, but instead of pretending to take notes so she'd leave me alone, i mirror her disapproving glare to show just how annoyed i am with this class. she continues teaching, but discreetly makes her way over to the back of the class, clicking her heels in the direction of my desk. all heads follow her movements as she plants a sticky note harshly on my desk, still continuously mumbling on about some war.

i sigh, purposely loud enough for everyone to hear because i really have zero fucks to give about school right now. she ignores my attempt to be annoying and continues on with the lesson, but a few short seconds later the bell makes a clear ear-piercing ring through everyone's eardrums. the students flee from their chairs like their life is on the line, fighting one another to see who can get out the door the fastest, while i remain seated with a gleeful expression covering my face just to get on the nerves of ms. kelly.

"chandler, don't start this." she states, taking the seat in front of me so we are face to face. i slouch in my seat, shrugging.

"start what?" i ask, and she clenches her jaw at me.

"you're a very smart boy.." she starts, and i scoff immediately after those words. "you are. your test scores are way above average, but the way you act in class does take a toll on your final grade."

"i'll try harder next time." i say simply, knowing that is usually what gets me out of these kinds of talks.

"you've said that the past four times, and i'm starting to think you just need a little shove to get you on the right track."

"like what? detention?" i guess. detention is, in other words, we sit in mr. miller's classroom and scrape gum off from underneath the desks for a few seconds until he ditches us for the fun-filled teacher's lounge, and we all scatter like minnows and go home.

"more like, if you want to graduate high school this year and not repeat your senior classes, you'll be doing some volunteer work both in and out of school." she states, making me not even try to hold back my laughter.

"volunteer work? ha, like what?" i ask in amusement, not showing how serious it has gotten for me since she mentioned repeating another year of this hell. that is not happening, no way.

"for example, this weekend the town's fireman hall needs repainting, and they're looking for capable volunteers."

"i have an important race this weekend, coaches orders."

"yeah, i already talked to your coach, chandler. he agrees that if it takes a little time off the team to help you improve yourself then it's for the best."