f i f t y ~ Godless Religion

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I finish the worksheet and slouch back into my chair. My fingers toy with the pencil as I look up to stare blankly at the board. As soon as the bell rings I'm done and it's a miracle I've lasted another day in this dump. I don't make any move to stand up and turn my work in. I'll leave it on my desk again, the loser voluntarily stuck in here with these freaks can deal with it. In front of me a chair scrapes against the floor and I glance towards the noise. Some blond-haired, wanna-be stud sits facing me with an expectant look on his face. I keep my face still as I glare.

"So how is she?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I answer lowly.

"That girl. The blonde one with a great rack that follows you and your gang around like a lost puppy." I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth to keep from socking him here and now. "I mean she's been hanging around long enough for you to look at her the same way, so I'm betting she's pretty good. But how good?"

"Keep your trap shut," I growl.

"No, no. I'm curious how good of bang is she. I mean the whole school has been blowing up for months about it, but the slut won't come near the rest of us. So is she good enough that you guys have got yourselves a little deal worked out?" I flex my fingers forcing them out of a fist, glaring the guy down. But he doesn't back down, he barely even blinks. "So what is it? You get her a fix and she goes downtown? Or do you get her little friend in the action too? Me? I'd kill to get her beneath me, the things I do to her-" My chair slams back, crashing to the ground, and I bring his face into the desk. Several people scream around us, but I just yank his head back up as he gags on his own blood. I lean closer to his face.

"Touch her and I'll kill you." I shove his head back into the desk and storm out. The pencil snaps in my hand and I toss it to the ground in the middle of the hall. I don't realize where I'm going until I'm standing in front of Kayla's last class. I reach out my fingers curling around the door handle, second away from tearing it open and taking her out of this place for good. But I can't pull the stupid door open. I'm the reason people are talking. I push my hair back and turn away, walking to her locker instead.

I lean against the lockers in the empty hallway and tug my phone out of my pocket, flipping through apps to make myself look busy. My eyes flick to the top of the screen checking the time. Sixteen minutes. Sixteen minutes until the bell. Sixteen minutes. I open up another app, scrolling though messages, even though there's nothing new to look at.

"You're supposed to be in class," comes a voice. I don't bother looking up. I just close out the app and open another. "Excuse me, sir?" He tries again.

I glance up to glare at the hall monitor. "I'm sure there's something else you can do with your time," I tell him. I look back to my phone, tapping on another app.

"What's your name?" he asks. I roll my eyes. "I asked you a question," he says.

"So did I," I answer.

"Do you need a detention?" His voice goes up a whole octave as he speaks.

I click my phone off. "Do I look like the kind of person who would actually show up to that?" I bite.

"I can take you straight to the VP's office if you'd prefer that."

"I'd like to see you try." The hall monitor steps forward as my fists clench. "Touch me and I'll ram your face into these lockers." He hesitates, finally looking me over.

"Are you threatening me?" I shrug.

"Don't know, do you feel threatened?"

"I can file criminal charges."

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