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Chapter 9

"Good morning, seniors! Do you know where you're sitting at graduation?"

"Oh my God, Mrs. Wells, no one fucking cares!" Michael groaned. I let out a small chuckle as Michael smacked his head against the desk. "I mean, everyone's graduating anyway!"

My chuckle passed and my face fell. Actually, I just so happen to be not graduating, Michael. But of course, Michael didn't need to worry about not graduating because he's been a fucking straight-A student since freshman year. Sometimes I really hated Michael for being valedictorian—it feels like he's looking down at me for not having stellar grades. Then again, Michael has never looked at my report card, and therefore he can't possibly look down at my grades. Michael's too nice to do that, anyway. At least I hope that's the truth...

"Hello, Mrs. Smith! How are you this fine morning?" Ashton walked into the room with his cheerful aura and the biggest smile on his face. Sometimes I thought Ashton was too happy for his own good. It seemed as if he forgot his contacts today—or he lost them, which, according to Michael, is usually the case—, because he was wearing glasses.

"Hi, Ashton," Mrs. Smith said with a small smile. "I'm all right this morning. What about you?"

"Oh, I'm grand; thank you for asking. Ooh, have you seen Sylvester the Dog?"

Mrs. Smith rolled her eyes. "I'll let you know if I find him, Ashton," she said monotonously. I restrained myself from laughing, partially because my teacher's eyes were glued on her computer screen, and partially because Ashton's been looking for Sylvester the Dog since sophomore year, and not once has Mrs. Smith stopped to look for it. It was most likely in Ms. Rogers's class, anyway. That's where he did the project.

Ashton came over to our desk with a smile on his face. He pulled a chair over from an empty desk as he usually did and pulled it over towards our desk. Michael got up from his seat, giving Ashton the opportunity to rest his feet on it, and Michael sat on Ashton's lap. They were like this almost every morning.

"You look hot with glasses," Michael said with a smirk on his face.

Ashton pouted. "You always made fun of me for wearing glasses."

"Ash, you should know that when I say, 'You look ridiculous in those glasses,' it really means, 'Oh my God, you're so hot, please screw me on this desk right here and now.'"

"I'd rather you didn't!" I exclaimed quickly. I covered my face with my sweater paws in embarrassment.

Michael and Ashton stared at me with amusement, and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. They're thinking of something evil. I just know it. The pair looked each other in the eyes, staring at each other for no longer than a second, and then they went back to staring at me.

Then, out of the blue, they suddenly started making out, purposely using tongue to bother me.

"My eyes!" I wailed. "I'm too young to be exposed to this maturity!"

Michael and Ashton stopped to laugh at me, and I pouted at them. Jerks. Sometimes I question myself for enjoying their company so much.

✘✘✘

"Okay," Miss Malone said loudly, "can anyone please tell me what happened when Jem and Scout walked home from school?"

I knew very well what happened in that chapter of To Kill a Mockingbird, but I wasn't one to participate in class. Luckily for me, I had an 'A' in Miss Malone's class—my only 'A' besides my elective and language. The only thing keeping me from having a high 'A' was my lack of participation. Malone keeps giving me an 'S' each grading period. She even called out the people who didn't participate, and Lucas Hemmings just so happened to be on the list.