silence ; phan

seventeen

before I start I just wanna say that I go back to school on Tuesday, so I might not update quite as much, but still at least once a day, I hope. also, sorry the last chapter was really short.  one more thing, idk if I've said Dan's age on this, but I think I said that he's 16, but that doesn't work with the timings, which doesn't really matter, but it's annoying me, so Dan's 15, Phil's 16. 

I enter my history room, sitting alone at the back of the class, none of my friends in this lesson with me. They're all in music, but as, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't play any musical instrument for shit, the teachers came to the decision that I should just do something else with the hour.

 I pull everything I need out of my bag, setting it down in front of me on the table. I scribe down everything that the teacher wrote on the whiteboard at the front of the class, silently being thankful that all of the lesson instructions get written on the board, meaning I don't have to try to read the teachers lips from far away.

As I work, thoughts loom over me. Phil said that someone was being rude to me, or something like that. I wouldn't know, but does that really happen often? Do people make fun of me? Yeah, I've seen it a few times, but I hadn't realised it happened much. Oh well, why dwell on something I can't hear, anyway?

My minds rids itself of the thoughts, going back to flicking my eyes between my work and the front of the class, handwriting sloppy from my left handedness, ink also smudged on the side of my hand. I cuss under my breath; but clearly not as quiet as I wanted to be, as a few people surrounding turn their heads, some rolling their eyes, and others just looking to be laughing.

A blow a curl that drops down out of my face, attempting to concentrate, though it's been difficult recently. I've had the exact same group of friends since year 7, and now, in year 11, someone else has come along, claiming a place as my best friend, which I've never had before. I can't feel bad about myself, though. Phil's 16 and has only just made friends, his first hug having been yesterday.

When the end of the lesson comes around, I assume the bell has gone, as everyone stands up at once, making their way out of the stuffy classroom, so I follow, packing everything away into my bag, rushing out.