Didn't I Just Say No?

My Day Gets Worse

When I got into the classroom Kaiba wasn't in his usual seat. In fact, the room was Kaibaless.

What was there instead was the Devil himself, and I swear, I gaped until I could feel my eyes bulging out of my head in horror.

Bakura looked up from where he was lounging on his swinging chair, and threw me a lazy smile. "Hey there, sweetheart."

I glanced around the room. The only other free seat was the one next to Duke, and there was no way in Hell that I was gonna sit beside that asshat. But then again, there was no way that I wanted to sit beside this one, either...

I gave him my deluxe I'll-kill-you-painfully stare, the one I'd perfected staight after dumping Duke, and leaned my books on my table. I matched his smirk with my scowl. "That's not your seat."

"It is now."

"You're not even in this class, ya pussy-lickin' whoreson of Satan," I growled. Someone behind him gave me a startled look, like they'd never heard a bad word in their life - but that was their problem, not mine. I wasn't in the mood for dancing around the issue. "Go back to the pit you spawned from - HEY! Give that back!"

He quickly hid my pencilcase down the far side of his chair and gave me a wink, just as the fucking teacher walked into the classroom and ordered - Ordered, moi? - to sit down beside the asshole, adding in a loud voice that if he ever heard me use that kind of language again to a new classmate then I'd be getting a month's worth of detentions and extra lectures on ettiquette. I did as I was told, fuming, listening to the sniggers all around me as I scraped my chair as far away from the sneaking scumbag as possible - which wasn't very far, considering the circumstances.

As the teacher began to write on the board, I felt something brush over my leg and looked down with a start. The fucking turd tried to put his hand on my (Thankfully-covered) thigh again so without looking at him I grabbed his pen and stabbed it. Hard.

His slight intake of breath and the sudden tightening of his body told me that I'd won that battle. I picked up his sleeve between my finger and thumb and dropped it back into his own lap, opened my notebook and started jotting down with the lecher's pen. Already I was becoming pissed that my notes for today would be in monochrome: I'd have to redo them as soon as I got home, on top of all of the other homework and study I'd need to do...

Yes, I am OCD about my notes. I like being OCD about my notes. It means that they're organised and easy to go through and not just fucking dull all the time.

And so what if I'm using multiple italics? It's a free country, dammit.

Anyway, Bakura was holding my pencilcase in custody and I wasn't sure that the bitch was gonna give it up without a fight. Seriously? I was just worried that I wouldn't be able to do any paperworks at break or lunch to avoid having to talk to people because if there's one thing that's vital for making the perfect tear in a page, it's a ruler.

A ruler which was trapped beside a scheming, plotting, dastardly little toerag.

Oh, joy.

Bakura tried to attract my attention many more times in the space of that one class, and each time he did it I was getting more and more unnerved. I mean, it's one thing to sit beside someone who ignores you, but it's completely another to be forced into a small chair at a small desk with little to no space between you and somebody who keeps trying to cop a feel. So by the end of it I felt as jittery as if I'd just eaten a whole load of sugar and washed it down with, like, ten cups of coffee. And a frappé.