||Pius||
"How does it feel to be bitch-snag again?" Xander gapes at me with unrestrained curiosity. The balls of him. Can't he try a bit to notch down the wit he finds in my misery? You know a man's dignity is bruised here and even at stake.
"You expect me to answer that?" I question him straight-faced. He cocks his head to the side, raising a brow, his lips twitching at the edges.
"Oh, I also want to know. How does it feel?" Xavier joins. God, what's this? The police interrogation room? Didn't he go to the toilet or something?
"Yes, I went to the toilet and I'm back for answers. You look god-awful biggie." He answers my silent question and starts giggling. Xander joins his companion on in the mission revel-in-Pius'-misery, and starts laughing. I slouch down on my pillow, praying for a way out. Hoping something happens to cut a hole in my room so that I can get swallowed up in it or something.
You might be asking, what room?
Laughs!
Oh, it's nothing big. Well, I might be lying a little. It's big, considering it landed me on a hospital bed. Oh, you heard it right. The story that has been wandering around about a certain hotty of Swakopmund being bitch-snag by a certain brown-beauty. What? Beauty? Urgh. Take that back. Brown...?
...thinking!
...Wench? Yes, wench it is.
The story might be true. Just a little. Urgh, alright it's horrible. Can't a man have a moment? God, my ego's bruised, together with my whole body. Jesus, the bitch is hardcore.
What?
Oh! Yeah, right. What happened?
Okay, let's take it back to the beginning.
As usual, I woke up very cheerful on a Thursday morning, ready to kick start the day. Which was weird, considering I was never a morning person. And also the cheerful part. But weirdly enough I was chaffed that morning. And believe me when I say that morning, I mean yesterday. Okay, whatever. As I was saying, I did my usual weekday routine. Took a bath, got into my school uniform, prepared breakfast for my dad and Xavier. Oh, Xavier slept at my place because my grandparents had something to do at the farm. Something about the shepherd being sick, I don't know. After that I took Xavier to school and from there drove myself to school.
Everything was fine. My mood never wavered. I remained the same exuberant morning-self the whole day. Not the whole day though. Half day, until English. Did I tell you that I somehow hate English now? No, I didn't.
Now, let me tell you, I HATE ENGLISH!
I said that in cap locks for you to hear me loud and clear.
Why?
Good question!
Thinking. Uhm...?
Okay, let's just say I was left with a bruised ego and a contused trunk and leave it there. In English class that is.
Yeah, I know it wasn't in the class, which was even more humiliating than anything else was having the whole school spectating a girl bruising one of the most popular boys at the school. Back to the English class, you know, we were supposed to be doing and revising King Lear or anything literature-related not knee hotties in their balls, and taking advantage of the momentary weakness and contuse them like that.
I'm blubbering and you don't understand what I'm saying.
Right, how it happened.
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Victim of Circumstance | UNDER RIGOROUS EDITING
Teen Fiction[BOOK ONE (1) of THE CIRCUMSTANCE SERIES] "It takes the heart of a Lion to become an ultimate conqueror." She'd an easy life. An over privileged one where she didn't have to sweat an ounce to get what she wanted. She'd it all. Everything her prett...
