"Shhh! Do not make a sound.. or I won't refrain myself to tie you up!" His grip on my wrist tightens.
I need to get my book from him, in which I wrote all of my erotic fantasies.
Fantasies that he is slowly turning real in his evil ways.
It's like...
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Emara Stone
Fuck!
I am late again.
I jog like a Kangaroo to the classroom, it's probably the third time in the row I'll be late in Professor Elvis Precisely's class. That old fart has the most annoying face in the world, thinking about him I get into depression, I wonder how his wife have sex with him.
I knock on the door as I slowly get in, "May I come in sir?" Suddenly everybody turns their heads towards me as if I asked them. Ethan gives me a disappointed look, Rose and her side bitches Shelly and Rita stare with their judgy eyes at my clothes and sneakers, whereas others are just excited for the show. Motherfuckers!
Professor Precisely lowers his glasses as he gives me a good look, "Of course! It is your class, your college, your world and you can fly in through the window I still won't mind. But may I ask why are you late again, Miss Stone?" His voice is coated and drenched with sarcasm that is currently creating holes in the back of my head.
God! Please save the professor before I do something.
I ignore the chuckles and silent laughs coming from the corner of the class and reply, "The stationary was crowded." Professor Precisely again lowers his glasses, "It always is, Miss Stone. Was today a special rush there?" He mocks and everybody starts to laugh.
Suddenly the door slides open and Drake walks in. He is wearing a white tee with a brown leather jacket on it, his jeans have a few hanging chains that jiggle as he walks. "Can I come in?" He asks, his voice stern as a stone.
"You are already in, Drake." Professor Precisely's voice is grim like a reaper's. It was clear with his despised tone that he didn't like Drake. In fact, no teacher liked him or other members of his gang. They all were spoiled brats and trouble makers.
"Were you at the stationery too during the rush hours?" Precisely asks Drake lowering his glasses leisurely, "How you knew, were you there too?" Drake laughs along with the rest of the class. I take a breath as Precisely and class's focus shifts to Drake. Thank you God for sending him later than me.
Precisely looks highly pissed, he nods as he walks to the table and shuffles through some papers, "Is it funny? I'll tell you a funnier joke." He continues, "Your marks in the last test." Drake curses under his breath as Precisely tells his marks in front of the whole class. "You got 3 out of 20. I am surprised how you even scored three."
Drake and I stand awkwardly under the limelight of Professor Precisely as the class chuckles silently in the background. "I already knew my marks before even starting the test." Drake spats uninterestingly. "It was not for you, but for the class to know your marks." Precisely scolds him to which he doesn't give a flying fuck.
"Can I sit now? Or you want to show my 4th grade's marks too." Drake spats in annoyance. This time Precisely didn't say anything so we both get seated in our seats. I sit behind Rose with my bench mate Hardik. He mostly stays quiet, reserves a place for me and always lends me his notes to copy. Isn't he the sweetest!
