SerialXLain has a disclaimer…this story was Venustas Iaceo’s idea, so you should worship her naked. v

Chapter One

“Everto, what do you think?” comes the sudden shout of Mrs. Mathews as she taps down upon my desk with the three cent blue pen I usually only see in her mouth. I glance at the numerous bite marks and the small pool of spittle on my desk before I look up at her through what part of my normally spiked hair has fallen in my eyes from me sleeping through her annoyingly long lecture over the reproductive organs of a flower.

Apparently, we’ve moved on to some crazy demonstration. I’m not sure exactly how one goes about giving a demonstration of plant reproduction, so I have no clue how to answer her other than shrugging my shoulders. Her bobbing black hair rises slightly and I see her fat, round cheeks shake as she sighs. “Eve, how do you ever expect to pass this or any subject I teach you? You don’t even read for your assignments! You failed your last test, you can’t afford to fail another or else you’ll be retaking this class again! I’m trying to help you learn. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s my job.”

I blink and shrug, wondering why she has to remind me that she teaches me. It’s not like I can’t see it right before my eyes that she’s “working.” We’ll call it working. I’d prefer to call it “being a bitch to those younger than her” but “working” will have to do. It’s torturous enough that I’m currently center-stage of the class getting lectured. I hide my face in the long white sleeves of my shirt, biting down on the cloth as I hear her sigh again. “Do you think, at least, Everto, that you could pay attention while I’m speaking to you before you choose to go back to sleep?”

“I am paying attention,” I mumble into my shirt, feeling my lips graze the cloth. That means I’ve pulled my head back and away from my sleeves. Somehow, I don’t like that. I glance up at her to see her bouncing up and down again, and I turn my eyes back down to the spit pool that’s still growing as she smacks down with the pen a few more times, growling and spitting like a dog.

“Don’t talk back to me, young man! You know what I think ought to set you straight?”

“Not yelling at me for not doing something I am?” I say just slightly too low for her to hear.

I glower into my sleeve a bit more and don’t listen to whatever her actual answer is. If paying attention now isn’t going to get me anywhere, then I have absolutely no desire or reason to start attempting. Besides, little does the old bat know I read the chapter for this idiotic section last week by accident and that’s why I failed her test in the first place. There’s obviously a pattern here. I study and I fail. I try and I fail. Honestly, if trying is getting me just as far as not doing anything, I’m sticking with not doing anything at this point.

It’s seventh period, and things haven’t changed much since first period. Not that I expect change. That would be too optimistic for me to do.

“I was questioning my existence today,” drones Mr. Timbre in a distant, monotonous voice that barely finds it way over my mental block. I don’t even have to look at him to imagine the roaster-like neck flab of his wobbling back and forth across his liver spotted neck.

I’m pretty sure he’s got everyone’s actual attention, despite his tone, except mine and Christopher Daniels. Christopher always sleeps in English. It’s pretty much expected. He still has the best grade in class, though, so obviously I hate him with a passion. Nobody should be besting me at anything, especially my own native tongue.

“Eve,” calls Mr. Timbre in my direction, attempting to shatter my mental image of Christ kissing Timbre’s neck flab and f ucking him for the weeks A. “Everto, are you paying attention?”

Liver spot kisses all over the place. “Obviously not,” I say before I realize just who asked the question. I look up to notice him with his hand on Chris’s shoulder and just snicker as the mental image returns to me. It’s so gross, and yet somehow satisfying.

The whole class seems to be snickering as well. How curious.

Mr. Timbre, however, is not laughing. I very quickly find myself coming to the assumption that that is a very bad thing. “Eve, do not backtalk me,” he snarls, punctuating each word like a robot does. Kinky teacher student robot sex? Awesome.

I give a sigh and glance over in the direction of the “attentive little angel” Noah, who happens to seem absorbed in the scene. He also happens to be the only kid in English class besting Christopher, and my brain automatically begins envisioning him in my Timbre/Chris daydream. “Eve, can’t you even pay attention when I’m disciplining you?”

“No?” I say as I’m finally fazing out of my thoughts. “Wait, what the f uck!? Chris is asleep but I don’t see you ‘disciplining’ him!” Maybe because his sleepy droll coast your dick after school, you child-humping robot rooster whore!

I hate school.

“Mr. Daniels may be asleep, but he at least can get an A in my class! You have the lowest grade out of all my classes thanks to your faulty report on Satanism you tried to pass off as informative!” Grr. Faulty my sexy left ass cheek! He’s just a bible loving, child-humping robot rooster teaching whore who can’t face the truth about any religion that believes in satisfaction of the self! (Not that you would think that with his kinky classroom sex and gay innuendos literally up his ass so far he can barely walk, as well as having formed a bag of flesh under his chin.)

When I finish with my mental ranting, I glance around to notice that--well-- Mr. Timbre isn’t even near me anymore. That’s good, but where is he? I glance about the room to see him whispering to blonde boy Noah. (What the hell kind of name is Noah anyways?)

“Oh Noah with your pretty face and pink blushing nose, won’t you drive your big boat up my ass?” I imagine the teacher saying since I can’t actually hear what he’s saying. Noah takes a glance in my direction as if he can read my thoughts, especially since he’s looking at me slightly critically, before looking back at Mr. Timbre.

Oh, and now angel-boy is talking. “No. Mr. Timbre! I’m a good little Christian boy, and my boat is a clean and pure vessel of the Almighty Dickhole thing I call God! Giggle, giggle. But you’re so cute, I guess a few rounds would be nice.”

Holy shit, I’m almost getting sick envisioning this scenario. Somebody pinch me!

“Ow! I said pinch not punch,” I say when a pain-inducing fist comes into contact with my arm from the girl, Ellie, sitting next to me. She stares at me blankly and then giggles as she runs her black painted fingernails through her freshly black-dyed hair. The only part of her that’s true to the style she wears is her mischievous smile and her punch.

“I was gonna tell you what their saying. I can read lips, but now I’m not unless you do something for me.” She tugs at her black hair as that covered her eyes and gets the aforementioned mischievous smile to cross her face.

I give a snort and rub my arm, glancing at the two before I turn back to her. “No more orgies for me today, thanks,” I mumble with a half-hearted glare as she yawns. “Just tell me, Slut. Her nose scrunches up and she gives an annoyed snort. “Ellie, we both know you want-“

“You’re getting a tutor,” she suddenly says with a vicious grin. “A certain blonde know-it-all, but not on Wednesdays as he has church.”

If my look could kill, I’ve of just slit Timbre’s, Ellie’s, and Noah’s throats. I don’t want that prissy boy anywhere near me.

--

Just when I assume the child-abuse called school is over, Mr. Timbre grabs my shoulder. He’s not alone either. There’s Noah as well, and I instantly remember why he’s there. Damn. He’s got blonde hair, and he looks like he needs a halo over his head. Not to mention, he practically seems to hump Mr. Timbre’s leg with answers in class.

Ding ding, hump Mr. Timbre’s other areas too, maybe. Yeah. That instantly starts the daydream again.

And, of course, the flab bag teacher of mind feels the need to verify the obvious.

“Eve, I’d like you to meet Noah. He’s in English with you. I’m sure you two know each other.”

I glare at him, he smiles at me, and we both then look to Mr. Timbre. “Noah’s volunteered to tutor you. I’ve already alerted your parents and his, and your first session together gets to be this very night!”

“I have to go home,” I say, trying to think of some lame excuse that’ll get me out of this little rendezvous. “My sister and I promised to clean the garage.” I don’t even have a garage. “It’s a surprise for our parents. They’ve been whining. So, I can’t. Sorry.”

“Noble deed as that may be, Eve, I think the best gift you could give your sweet parents would be a passing grade in English. They’d agree. I know, as I said, I spoke with them. Now, you’re going to take Noah to your house.” He swishes his hand in the complete wrong direction as if to emphasize this.

Thankfully, my sister, Chalice, walks up spinning the keys to her beat up red jeep on her finger. Mr. Timbre seems to inspect her with a cruel eye, and I actually want to hit him for it.

Grant it, my sister gets this look from everyone, and so I do. We kind of match to some degree, only I never shaved half of my head and tattooed an upside-down cross over my right earlobe. I just stick with spiking my hair and wearing her leather pants (after I wrap them up with chains and locks, of course).

She looks at Mr. Timbre, then looks at me with a sigh. “Damnit, boy! Is it your goal in life to—“

“Chalice,” he spits out my sister’s name like it’s a disease. “I’ll have to remind you that swearing is not allowed on school grounds.”

Chalice scrunches up her nose and then turns back to me. “You just want to get in trouble, don’t you? Honest. You’re so lucky that all the bad crap you do makes me the sweetest child our parents have. You make me look good kid, a perfect accessory!”

I just kind of laugh. Noah seems too fixated on the tattoo she has, and the part of her long purple hair that she shaved off. I look at him, and he’s grimacing in much the same manner Mr. Timbre is. I immediately get the feeling that this kid is going to die if he takes a step into my house, and I’d feel horribly guilty. I don’t like feeling guilty, so I make the decision that he just plain won’t be walking into my house.

“We’re supposed to take Blondie over there home with us, Chalice,” I tell her. She looks at him and shrugs, putting out her hand. He takes it with what looks like a forced smile, and glances at Mr. Timbre as if he’s going to suddenly save him from the “wrath” of harmless Chalice.

“I get motion sickness,” he suddenly says, and I assume it’s his attempt at not coming over.

“I’ll sit you in front then,” shrugs Chalice with a smile. “You should know that if you stare directly at the lines on the road, you’ll feel better. So then, are we free to go my Nazi--Er, my dearest teacher?”

Mr. Timbre glares but then nods. Chalice and I turn and head for the parking lot, and it only takes a moment before I see the bobbing blonde head next to me. “Why are you following us?” I ask him, not really know his answer, but more as a cold-hearted statement.

“I figured you knew that answer,” he says with a half-smile. “I am supposed to tutor you, remember?”

I give a sigh and stare down at the sidewalk. “Well, can you stop? I really just want to go home and sleep. At the very least, don’t tutor me at my own house.”

“I thought you had to clean the garage,” he says, arching an eyebrow. Chalice and I immediately break into laughter.

“Trailers have garages, Eve?” She manages out through snickers as she opens the jeep door and plops in. I go and sit in the back, immediately fishing out my iPod and putting in the headphones.

I can see Noah’s head barely bobbing over the torn, almost rotten, cloth of the seat in front of me. I don’t really mean to, but I stare at him through the mirror. He looks up, and our gazes meet through the mirror before I turn to stare out the window, finding myself both blushing and irritated despite lacking any knowledge as to why.

When we reach my house, I knock on the backseat and practically make Noah fall out of the vehicle just so I can get out. He begins scolding me for it, or so it seems by the glare on his face, but I can’t hear him and just smile as I walk up towards the door, following Chalice. After I enter, I lock the door and take a seat in front of it with my iPod still blasting music into my ears.

I hum under my breath as I open my book bag, pulling out my English book and read. I mean, hell, if the boy is going to be here I might as well actually make it seem to my teacher like I’ve done something. I can feel the door rattling behind me, and after a good half-hour has ticked away, I look up at Chalice.

She’s been eying the door like it’s going to eat me, and I take out my headphones to question her. “Can you still see him through the window?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding. “He doesn’t look too happy. I wouldn’t be either if I was locked outside for an hour in winter in a place where it’s started to snow.” I sigh, feeling slightly bad for locking the kid outside while it’s snowing.

Chalice gets up, and nudges me with her foot so I have to move over. I immediately get up and plop down into the chair Chalice had been sitting in. She unlocks the door, and Noah comes in shivering and glowering evilly. “Why did you lock me out in the cold? That wasn’t fair of you in the slightest! If you didn’t want me coming over right now, you should have just asked me to leave.”

I blink and stare at him, turning up the value on my iPod and filling in what he’s say with dirty talk about Mr. Timbre as I get up out of the chair. My hands curl around his wrists, and my eyes meet his shining, somewhat furious blue ones, just before I spin him around and shove him out the door, closing it and locking it again.

If he wanted to come in, then he shouldn’t have been a dumbass in my reasoning.

Chalice sends me a slight glare of a look and yanks out my headphones. “What was that all about?” she demands, and I give a sigh feeling slightly bad if only because I upset her.

“He broke one of the Eleven Satanic Rules of the Earth, so I had every right.” I take a deep breath, and recite. “‘When in another’s lair, show him respect or else do not go there.’ So, to show him proper behavior, I exhibited for him the rule that follows it. ‘If a guest in your lair annoys you, treat him cruelly and without mercy.’ Also, I had rights under the rule ‘When walking in open territory, bother no one. If someone bothers you, ask him to stop. If he does not stop, destroy him’ rule. And he was technically sinning. Stupidity is the first and foremost sin. So, I was merely practicing my religious rights.”

I grin, feeling accomplished somehow even though I’ve had to recite the rules and sins every day of my life before bedtime until they’re engraved in my skull. Chalice just beings cackling, and she throws her arms about my neck in a hug as she kisses my head. “Boy, Eve, you sure know how to charm a girl! Mom and Dad have poisoned your mind with that stuff. However, love, I’m going to go give that poor boy a ride home regardless. We don’t know how far away he lives. So gimme a kiss on the cheek and tell me you love me, squirt.”

I let my nose scrunch up in a cringe as if to feign that I refuse to show her any form of attention, if only because it’s expected of me as a teenage male, but I obey her because she’s my sister and Mom always said that you should always kiss and hug someone before they leave and make sure to tell them that you love them. You never know when they’ll be put in the ground, and in our religion, when you’re put in the ground that’s it. There’s no hell. There’s no God. There’s no Satan. There’s nothing. Just death.

“Love ya, Chal.”

“Love you, too, Everto. I’ll see you later.”

End Chapter One