Oh My...

9.) Fuck School

Halfway through my second period, I was already plotting the many ways I could leave.

My first period teacher scowled at me when I came in with only ten minutes left of class. "Not a great way to start your year, Ms. Wallace."

I wanted to hiss back that I was only missing a study hall, but I didn't bother. I just rolled my eyes at the older woman and calmed myself down by remembering that she going to die soon anyway.

While walking to second, I was searching for doors I could leave through and stairwells I could hide out in. I wasn't anxious to get to Home Ed, but I couldn't find a good place to walk out. I sulked to class with my schedule in my hands, trying to match the room numbers on the paper.

The bell rang a few minutes before I found which room I was supposed to be in. The little blonde woman who I assumed was the teacher perked up from her book and stared at me. Her skinny eyebrows drew together. "Who are you?"

"Alex Wallace. I'm new-"

"Oh. Right. Uh. You can join whoever."

I analyzed the class; four miniature kitchens were set up along the room with little ovens and sinks and counters. Clusters of students stood around the counters with a mixture of foods spread out at each station. When I walked towards them, they all turned and stared at me.

I got a range of stares, from curious to rude, to lustful to blank. My cheeks blazed with heat and I contemplating just walking out the door, when I realized I saw a familiar face.

Marshall was stirring a pot at the kitchen in the back corner of the room. A few other boys were with him, but he didn't seem to he associating with them. I walked over and managed a small smile. "Hi."

Marshall's eyes slid over towards me; a puzzled look colored his expression. "What are you doing here?"

"Weird, huh? A teenager at school?" I smirked.

He rolled his eyes at my retort. "Shut up."

I giggled. "So, what are you cooking?" I took a peek over his shoulder and looked inside the pot. There wasn't anything in it. "Uhh..."

"Too tired to actually cook," Marshall yawned. "If you just look busy, she'll give you full credit."

I gazed at the empty pot. "But don't you want food?"

"Fuck food, I want sleep."

I glanced around the room and bit my bottom lip. "Hey, I'm tryna leave after this period. You in?"

Marshall looked down at me, a small smile lifting his cheeks. "What are you tryna get into?"

I offered his a cheeky grin. The only thing on my mind was getting drunk and high at the same time. "You wanna smoke?"

He laughed. "Yeah, sure. Let's get the fuck outta here." Marshall dropped the spoon he was using to mix air on the counter and walked to the teacher sitting behind a large desk. "Can I go to the bathroom?"

"Yeah," she said flatly.

"And can I go to my locker?"

The teacher looked up and rose her eyebrow at us. I knew she was thinking I was probably off to suck his dick.

She shrugged and said, "Whatever."

I followed Marshall down the empty hallway. The whole school was pretty dark, with high windows that had bars in front of them like a prison. There were cracks in the concrete walls and stains on the ground. And more than a few times I caught sight of a dead cockroach pushed to the side.

A few security guards lurked around, but they hardly payed any mind to us. Marshall and I walked out the big glass doors in the cafeteria with ease.

He sauntered down the parking lot. "I leave almost everyday," he told me. 

I nodded in agreement. "In Brooklyn, I wouldn't even bother going."

"Is today your first day?" he wondered. When I didn't answer, he shook his head and laughed. "Didn't even stay through your first day?"

"Don't judge me. You're leaving, too." I pointed out.

We were off campus in no time. Marshall slid his book bag off his left shoulder and said, "I actually just bought bud first period."

"Perfect." I grinned.

"Right. I have dutches at the crib, we can just smoke there."