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Chapter Eighteen | Pretty Boy

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Chapter Eighteen | Pretty Boy

If it were up to me, school would only be five months long because ten months is too much time being wasted. I mean, how much thinking can someone do? I was so sick of my teachers always telling me to imagine this, and solve that, and write something about someone I didn't even care about. Why would I write an autobiography about Marie Antoinette when I didn't even know her? She told people that they should eat cake and then she died. If you ask me, she had a pretty boring life — more boring than mine.

If school was shorter, teachers would actually teach us things that we needed to know. I didn't care about finding the hypotenuse of a triangle, they should tell me how to avoid paying our taxes and how to take care of our mental health.

But the world conspired against me, and I find myself sitting in boring old Mr Perch class again. He's standing at the front of the room, the top of his head only inches away from the ceiling as he rambled on about something, I'm sure no one in this class cared about.

"Your first major assignment of the semester will be on writing and delivering a speech on a certain topic," He told, his words drawled and slow just like his pacing around the room. "It'll take a few days to complete so that's why I decided to split you all up in pairs for the assignment."

There was a loud groan from the class, and one boy even slammed his head on the desk in response. Everyone wined and voiced different reactions before Mr Perch shushed them all.

I hate group work, and I'm sure most people my age will agree with me when I say that's it's completely ridiculous when teachers assign it. Some students prefer working by themselves not because they don't like anyone in the class, but some people just truly work better by themselves. Some people prefer working by themselves because their social anxiety kicks in when they're forced to start conversations with people they don't even know or like for a stupid participation grade.

I don't have any friends in this class mostly because everyone in here is an underclassman and let's face it, they're all lame. Also, I keep to myself in this class, rarely only talking unless it's completely necessary. I hate group assignments, especially now that I'm in senior, it's like why am I working in a group? Is the group getting the diploma with me?

"I already have the pairs and their topics picked so please listen up for your name and assigned topic." Mr Perch began, clearing his throat aloud and I couldn't help but watch in disgust as his large Adam's apple wiggled up and down in his throat.

"Alissa and Tyler, your topic is free health care."

"Lester and Adam, the topic for you two is gun control."

"Liam and Braxton, do you feel today's music is influencing today's youth."

I scrunched my face up at his words. First off, why did everyone else get those serious and interesting topics and I'm stuck with musical influence on the youth? Second, who the hell is Braxton? I looked around the room with furrowed brows, and soon my question is answered when I spot a boy behind me already staring at me. He sat in the desk lazily, his foot propped up on the edge with his feet swaying off, he threw up the peace sign with his hands.

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