I like to consider myself as a good student. I get good grades, and I don't get into trouble too often. But when you're in the principal's office and you have no idea why, your brain tends to come up with of the worst possible outcomes.
I stare at our principal, Mrs. White, who clears her throat uncomfortably.
"Um, Ms. Johnson, do you know why you were called in here today?" she asks me, as if I would actually have an answer.
I shake my head, and she clears her throat again. "Well, there is a... er, rumor that you and.. er, you are having an, um, sexual relationship with Mr. Punt," Mrs. White stammers, obviously about as uncomfortable as I am, shifting in her seat. She avoids meeting my eyes by clearing her throat again and chooses to focus her gaze on the desk separating us.
Mr. Punt is, like, the hottest teacher in school. All the girls in school fantasize about him- and how could they not? He has dark brown hair and bright green eyes that make you feel all tingly inside when they meet yours. He teaches chemistry, which just so happens to be the class that I have next. He is also happily married to a loving wife who happens to be just as good-looking, so he's pretty oblivious to any flirting from his female students.
"Me, having a relationship with Mr. Punt?" I scoff, bewildered. "Why are you asking me instead of Ashley Haven?"
Ashley Haven is the prettiest girl in school, and undeniable queen bee. Her father is a multi-millionaire and her mom is a model or something else just as glamorous. I've never seen her wear anything twice and she drives to school in a different car every week. On top of that, she totes around a new boyfriend everytime I change my underwear. Which is every day.
Mrs. White's cheeks flush with color. "So you don't have any connection with Mr. Punt besides a teacher-student relationship?" she asks, clearing her throat for the probably the bazillionth time that day.
Dammit lady, do you need a cough drop or something?
I shake my head again. "Can I leave now?" I ask a bit testily. "I need to get to class".
She nods quickly and I pick up my bag before hurrying out of the small room.
After I close the small door behind me, I find myself surrounded by a huge mass of people. With the practiced skill of an experienced high school student I successfully weave my way through the crowd and to my locker, where I grab my books for chemistry.
School is like childbirth.
At first, it sucks like hell, but in the end, you realize it was all worth it.
Unfortunately, I have to wait one more year until that baby finally decides to pop out.
Or maybe school is more like a jungle.
In the wild, predators such as lions, tigers, and bears (oh my!) seek out the weak and vulnerable, tricking them to getting in closer by inviting them to an oh so innocent drink by the watering hole, then pounce when they least expect it and eat them alive... If you're smart, you'd run as fast as you can, get away from it all, and keep your head screwed on.
But enough about silly little things like jungles and having babies. There are far more interesting topics in life.
Like how the Egyptians invented the first vibrator. It is thought that Cleopatra took a hive of angry bees and dumped them into a small, metal container before sticking it up her you-know what. I'm sure it was very enjoyable for her.
Anyway, back to the story.
I head to class and sit in my seat. The bell quickly rings and Mr. Punt walks into class. He gives us a big, warm smile, followed by a few sighs from my female classmates. "Good morning students," he says pleasantly. "Today we're going to be looking at our blood cells, so please get together with your partners and we'll start as soon as possible."
My usual partner, Darla Brown, moved to Jefferson High. And I don't blame her. Anywhere's gotta be better than this shithole.
I raise my hand, quickly grabing Mr. Punt's attention. "Um, Mr. Punt, I don't have a partner". He raises his eyebrows and looks at the empty seat next to me. He seems to realize what the situation is and nods.
"Very well. Er, let's see... Here, Mr. Jackson, you can be Ms. Johnson's partner," he says. I try to conceal my disappointment. I wanted to get someone smart, like Sue Ling, as my partner. Biology isn't exactly my strongest subject. But heedless to my inner turmoil, Josh Jackson walks over to the seat next to me and plops his books down on the table.
"Hey," he says with a huge grin. "I guess you're my new partner, huh?"
I nod and flash him a weak smile. In case you don't remember, Josh Jackson is the most popular boy in school. I avoid his big blue eyes and stare down at the linoleum floor, which happens to look quite interesting at the moment.
Mr. Punt explains to us that we'll be doing blood typing, and that it isn't for the faint of heart. Then he chuckles and flashes a pearly white grin at us. Cue another sigh from the girls.
"I hate blood," Josh says, and glances at me. I nod. I hate blood too. It's so... yuck.
"Me too," I say softly, almost inaudible. Josh furrows his eyebrows. He looks so cute when he does that.
"What was that?" he asks. I repeat it, a bit louder, and he nods. "Well that makes the two of us."
I look around at my classmates, who are all pricking their fingers. I feel a bit nauseated and it seems as if someone sprayed the room with rust spelling perfume. I start to feel the bile rising at the back of my throat, so I make a mad dash for the door. Luckily, the girls' bathroom is nearby, and I make it to a toilet just in time. It seemed as if I was vomiting for hours, though it was probably only for a few seconds. I stay kneeling over the toilet for a few moments, trying to catch my breath.
I wipe my mouth with a piece of toilet paper and flush it down the toilet along with my puke before quickly washing my hands to head back to class. Before actually opening the door I spare a look through the window. A few seats are empty, which means I'm not the only one who was feeling a bit queasy.
I decide to skip class, because I was not going back in there again. Besides, it's close to the end of the day, and study hall won't miss me. I walk out of the building and to my car, which is not too far from the entrance.
It's pretty beat up, there's a couple of scratches here and there, but it works, and that's fine with me. It's actually my mother's, but she stays inside her bedroom most of the time, so I use it to get around town.
As I pull out of the parking lot, I feel as if someone is watching me. I shake off the feeling and head to the gas station, because I'm running a bit low on fuel. I get about 15 gallons pumped in and walk into the gas station. I hand the guy working there about 60 bucks, and wince. That had been 2 weeks' worth of tips, and now it was gone.
I walk back to my car and turn it on again before driving home. The feeling that someone is watching me arises again, so I look around nervously. Deciding not to risk it, I quickly drive home and rush inside, shutting the door behind me rather loudly. I sigh a breath of relief and head to the kitchen to fix myself a quick snack.
Unfortunately, there is not much to eat, and I make a mental note to make a trip to the grocery store soon. I find a small bag of expired fruit snacks and a pouch of Capri-Sun. I decide that the fruit snacks look safe enough to eat and stuff them in my mouth, when I hear a loud crash. I freeze, my body tensing like a spring.
Nobody should be in the house right now, except my mother. But she's sleeping. My eyes widen in fear, and I grab a knife from one of the drawers before creeping slowly towards the living room.
Fear pulses through my body as I scan the room. There doesn't seem to be a sign of any living organism here, except for a broken vase on the floor. Something touches my leg and I let out a scream. I jump, and hold the knife with both of my hands and whip around.
The only person there is our cat, Louis, and he's actually not a person. I let out a huge sigh, and realize that I had been holding my breath the whole time.
"Silly cat," I say quietly. "You scared me half-to-death." Louis ignores this and purrs against my leg, which actually feels quite nice. He then slinks away, to who-knows-where. I go back to the kitchen and put the knife back where it belongs.
There's nothing to do, so I decide to go get the mail. Most of them are bills, and three of them are junk mail. There is one letter addressed to me, though. There's no return address.
I carefully open it, and in the process, get a paper cut. I swear softly and get a band-aid for it. After it's all bandaged up, I pick up the letter again.
My eyes widen slowly. It's one of those letters like in the movies where the letters are cut out from a magazine and glued onto a piece of paper.
But it's what it says, that really gets me.
Sorry that it has been FOREVER since I last posted, but I've been setting up beta-reading stuff with my beta-reader so that's been the main reason why it took so long. I'll try to get stuff up sooner and quicker. :) Stick in there, though. I'm not abandoning this story just yet. I encourage you to review and follow.