Boisterous Beings

Oh god this under wire is so uncomfortable. Why did I have to wear this bra? Oh yes, the other bras would make me look flat chested. I reached inside my polo and lowered the bra down.

“Hey Angela, what are you doing?” Christopher, my seatmate in Religion yelled loudly. “Were you just reaching in your shirt?” Thank God, the teacher was outside right now, but it still didn’t help my situation. By now, a couple of people from my row had turned back to gaze at the source of Christopher’s obvious boisterousness.

“Shut up Christopher, you liar!” I said defensively.

“If I’m lying why is your hand in your shirt?” He smirked.

“It’s not!” I said quickly yanking my hand out.

The idiot John sitting in front of me stared at me strangely and started laughing. “Eww we’re in Religion class, oh my god Angela, couldn’t you wait?” He said mockingly. The girl next to him, Patricia, whipped her head around and gazed at me suspiciously. “Why what was she doing?” she asked in that annoying deep voice of hers.

“She was stroking her boobs.” Christopher yelled aloud.

“I was NOT stroking my boobs!” My counter argument was very weak because my head had gone on bright fire red alert and my thought process of coming up with a brilliant comeback had gone commando on me.

“Who’s stroking their boobs?” Joe, from the other side of the room yelled glancing at our direction.

“Angela,” John shouted back pointing at me.

“You’re a fucking liar John. Why would I stroke my boobs, you idiot?”

“I don’t know Angela, you tell me.”

Now, I was trapped. What could I say back? I couldn’t certainly say that I was adjusting my under wire bra because it was digging into my skin.

“Angela,” Ivy whispered behind me. “What?” I said turning around. She giggled, “you were stroking your boobs?”

“No,” I hissed back, “I was fixing my friking bra!”

“WHY WOULD YOU PET YOUR TITTIES IN CLASS? Joe yelled across the class in his annoying whiny voice. He was the only one in grade nine with a high little kid voice and he was short completely smooth and probably tiny.

“Grow a fucking penis until you decide to scream about my titties!” I said simply back at him.

“You want to see my penis Angela,” he replied.

“Hey there will be no talking of the male anatomy in this class, Joe.” Mr. Hughson had returned, thank God, those stupid bastards will drop this boob thing.

“Well it’s not my fault Angela was touching her you know,” He made a motion as his chest.

“Mr. Hughson, who are you gonna believe, me or him?” I made a disgusted face as I said him.

Mr. Hughson rolled his eyes and sighed, “There’s a time and place for everything, kids, and this debate is surely not taking place in my class.”