I Don't Like Badboys...Seriously | ✓

Chapter One - The Banana Peel

Chapter One - The Banana Peel

With my books cradled in my left arm, I headed towards the opposite side of the school for chemistry class. The schoolyard was flooded with students switching classrooms – the students that were actually here to study that was. Behind the wall of the science block – an area I had to pass to get to my chemistry class – were the punks of the school.

Rumours spoke of an infamous bunch of boys who skipped out of classes on a regular basis, smoked, did drugs and alcohol, but, were also the charmers who lured innocent girls to their lair.

I avoided eye contact, looking at my books, the sky or the path while I walked past them. If you looked at them, they wouldn't leave you al - . My leg slid forward and I nearly toppled over, but managed to clutch my books, bend my knees and shift my weight backwards.

I had successfully remained standing and now looked like a knock kneed grandma with an awfully hunched back in the middle of the path. I glanced back to see what the hell I had stepped on. It was a bloody banana peel.

"Ah crap," I scowled, screwing up my face in annoyance. Incidentally, I had also accidentally briefly met eyes with and glared at one of the punks as I glanced back at the banana peel. I quickly turned away and rushed towards my chemistry class.

"Sorry I'm late," I apologised as I turned up about half a minute after the bell rang.

"It's alright. Now take a seat," Mrs Smith smiled, gesturing towards the empty benches at the very front. I awkwardly bee-lined for a seat on the very left of the front bench and sat down. Mrs Smith began teaching and I opened up my book and pulled out the necessary writing materials, prepared to take down notes like a hurricane, or tornado, or whatever.

The class was dead silent as per usual. Most of those who were there were dead serious about studying; majority took a few electives instead and others wagged.

There was a knock at the door and all heads turned – including the teacher's.

She headed to the door and pulled it open, the shock evident on her face. Four guys with shirts perfectly tucked in, top buttons done up and ties pulled up to the top stood in a row in front of the door.

"Sorry we're late," they apologised before turning to half-grin as they saw the class.

"Alright, take a seat in the front bench. You've been absent for thirty percent of the classes, so please find someone to copy their notes." Mrs Smith walked back to her desk.

My eyes were deceiving me, playing tricks for sure. My mother and father had been right; computers, laptops, phones, technology, all of it really messed with your mind. I continued staring and after a few minutes of self-conflict, I gave up denying it. The punks were in my class.

Author's Note:

The story does start off rather cliche, but I can promise that it isn't that way for the whole thing. Please give the story a chance and read onto the next chapter. Feel free to leave a comment with your opinion, and if you like the story, please do vote for it! (:

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