Invisible (Mashton fanfiction)

Chapter 3- 'Innocent'

Michael's POV

I jog through the halls of the school, smirking. The eyes watch me as I slowly get to my locker, biting my lip. I love to be seen. Gives me that small sense of pride and arrogance. I feed off of that. I push my books into the locker, grabbing out my History book and glancing at myself in the mirror in the back. I slam my locker closed as the late bell rings. This just means Mrs. Trimmer is going to ride up my ass because I'm late. Ugh, I could literally live all of my life without her damn voice in my ear, swear to you.

I walk through the door as she's writing something on the board, shuffling to the back quickly. I send a wink towards Edna who blushes a bright steaming red before looking down at her hands. "Mr. Clifford, I hope you have a good reason for being late in my class." I mock her, stopping when she turns around.

"I apologize." I say, sending her my award winning smile. And no, no she didn't except it.

Her green eyes narrow. Her eyes are nothing like Ashton's beautiful innocent eyes, just gazing with- whoa, what? "And I'm expecting you did your homework."

Of course Ashton did my homework. "Yes, ma'am." I smile smugly. You could see her surprise through the fire in her eyes. I don't know, she's just hated me since I fucked her daughter at that one party. It wasn't my fault her daughter was a slut.

She walked to the back, snatching the paper from me. "Good."

As she walks away, I notice all eyes are on me. Most of them are admiring but some people are looking at me in complete surprise that I- or Ashton- actually did my homework. The only one who wasn't looking at me was Luke who sits next to me everyday and usually doesn't look at me. He and Ashton have got to be the most innocent human beings I've ever met in my whole entire life. Luke had this little ball lip ring but he likes to keep himself isolated. Except for from me, he opens up to me every once in a blue moon.

"So you all know what History is about, yes?" I slouch in my seat. "Lucas?"

Luke looked up sharply, his eyes cutting a glare before they softened to blank nerves. "Where we came from?"

"We came from sex." I tell him quietly and I can see he wants to laugh but is scared to so he just drops his head.

When I look but up, Mrs. Trimmer is cutting me 'the look'. The one that is basically telling me to burn in the deepest pits of hell. "Michael? You have the time to talk, you MUST know what History is about?"

"Dead and decomposed people." I call out, the class giving into hushed laughter.

Me and the teacher have a stare off for a good 30 seconds before she turns around, writing something on the bored. "Class!" She snaps, them quieting. She sends me one more look before going over our great dead and decomposed people.

After History, I go to Art which is, with Music, my strong suit. I sit in my seat, smiling to myself. Our teacher, a very hip and jumpy male named Thomas Wild, practically skipped into the room. No, literally...he skipped into the room. I pull out my sketch book and all my pencils. I would never let anyone know this but drawing is a hobby of mine. That and playing the guitar. Ashton probably likes doing blasted homework and other- why am i thinking about him right now?

"Hello, class." A series of dim greetings go back to Mr. Wild. "Why the long faces?! Come on, this is supposed ot be the fun class! Michael!"

"Hm?" I say, looking up from my paints.

"What did you do this weekend, youngster?" Sometimes I like to imagine I'm his favorite student because he calls me out a whole lot. Just out of absolutely nowhere 'hey, michael!'.